Chapter Text
Charlie Howling, a pretty average kid. Goes to a middle school, he's got a caring mom, he's a pretty normal kid. He's a yellow and red gradient tomato. Half ripe. He's quiet and reserved, he doesn't talk much. He doesn't want to talk much. It's been a long time since that. . . "Dream", it's so foggy and he's unable to remember much.
He was just a baby when he had that dream, but even now, he remembers it. He remembers something. Wide open grass, a clear dead sky, and a lifeless voice. That's all, that's it. It's been so long. Why does he still remember this? Was it important? Was it something he needed to know?
Charlie isn't sure as he gets ready for school, his mom will get mad at him if he's late. Every day, he has a habit of constantly checking the mirror. He's a food product and mold can latch on, but he's too young to get mold. Why does he check for mold? Sure, it's every food object's worst nightmare, but he's too young.
He's not even exposed to anything that can cause mold. He doesn't want mold. He hears his mom's voice call out for him downstairs.
"Charlie, come down!"
"Coming, Mom! Just hold on!"
He calls back down, leaving the bathroom and turning the lights off to run downstairs. He heads for the living room but stops himself in the middle of the hallway. He turns to look at the small table he set up propped up against the wall.
In the middle of the small table was a candle. Blue in color and its scent was ocean breeze, he likes ocean breeze. Blinking a few times before he goes back to getting to the living room.
"Hey, mom! Sorry, I took so long."
"You don't have to worry actually, the school called, apparently a microwave blew up or something and they closed the school for the day till they can clean it up."
"About time they replaced that old thing. Pretty sure someone got food poisoning from using that microwave."
Charlie chuckled a bit alongside his mom.
"Do you want to watch TV with me or are you just gonna go back to your room?"
"Eh, I don't got anything better to do."
He says as he sits on the couch with his mom, he doesn't actually watch the TV though. He just blankly stares at the barely visible reflection of himself. He doesn't talk to his mom about this dream, she'd just say "A dream is a dream, they don't make sense and that's okay" or something along those lines.
Charlie let his mind wander a bit, it always goes back to that wide-open area. Just endless grass and a blue sky, how would he describe it? Like a prairie. Or a meadow. Or a plain- Wait, what was that again? A plain, plain, plain, plane. The Plane. Huh, interesting. He doesn't think much about this, what would "The Plane" even mean?
He finds it silly right now, he’s probably just overreacting right now.
Though he couldn't help but feel a string of paranoia lingering, he pushed it away. He turned his attention to the TV finally, his mom likes her soap opera and rom-coms. He watches them sometimes, but they get boring after a while, he likes murder mysteries better.
His mom tries to discourage him from listening to True Crime podcasts, he finds them interesting though. He glanced out the window behind the couch, there was a lot of white. It was December after all so there was a lot of snow outside by now. His mom took notice of this.
"It's snowing, maybe you should go for a walk. It's not too cold outside."
"But I don't wanna."
"Charlie, you're growing, you need to exercise."
"Mmmm, noo."
He doesn't like going outside all that much, he prefers being in his room or just at home generally.
"Yes."
"Noooo."
"Yes."
"But mom"
"No buts"
". . . Fineeee."
There was no arguing with mom, if she said he was going outside, he was going outside. Charlie got off the couch and went to get ready for the cold-ish weather, he went to his room quickly, might as well go to the store and stuffed 20 dollars in his backpack. Charlie found boots and a scarf in his closet, which seemed good and quickly put them on. He said goodbye as he walked out the door, shivering a bit from the cold air.
Charlie walked, small little white particles slowly falling to the ground. The snow crunched below him as he walked. He knew where the supermarket was, he always went there from time to time to buy some snacks like chips or something. It was rather close, he didn't have to walk that far.
Soon enough, he was out of the neighbourhood side of where he lived, he could see more fast-food restaurants and stores. They all looked the same, he'd seen it all before.
Except. . . That one, a new one spotted his eye. In between a random clothing store and the dollar store was something new. Music notes and vibrant colors were what was on the sign above the building. Though what was most important was the name, "Narrow Note", hm.
He knew someone had bought the old retail space so it was interesting to see what it had turned into. Looked like a music store. He liked music. He was here anyway so might as well check it out. He walked closer, the outside was slashy and looked a bit out of place. He pulled on the door and entered.
He could tell this was fairly new, he swears he could smell the paint on the walls. A small ding rang above him. A bell. Charlie looked around, shelves of music albums and instruments were on display.
"Oh, hello! Welcome to Narrow Note."
A feminine voice behind the counter caught the tomato's attention. The person behind the counter was a magazine, rosy pinkish. They looked a bit tired and some paint stained their pages a bit.
"Oh, hi. . ."
He waves a bit, pulling his scarf down and rubbing the snow off his boots on the black carpet below him.
The inside was warmer than the outside. He glanced around, it still looked half-finished. He saw some paint cans in the corner and a few of the ceiling tiles were still missing. He was silent as he looked at everything. He found a guitar, some drums, all the things you'd find in a music store.
Though, there was one thing that stood out. A single picture. An open field. Blue sky. A plain. It looked hand drawn and messy, almost looked rushed for whoever drew it did it frantically. He stared at it and he couldn't help, but feel like he'd seen it once before.
"Looking at the drawing I made, huh?"
"Oh. . . Uh, you made this?"
"Yup, when I was a teen."
They said, their tone lowering just a tad bit as they looked at it as well.
". . . What do you call it?"
"The Plane."
The magazine answers quickly, almost like they didn't want to say the name. The Plane. . .
"Why'd you draw it?"
"Well, let's say I had a long dream and. . . I wanted to remember some of it."
The magazine gaze snapped away from the drawing, a hint of sadness tainting their eyes.
". . . What's your name?"
"Taylor, you?"
". . . Charlie."
Taylor hums in amusement, her eyes now focused on Charlie.
"Who else works here? Or is it just you?"
He asks, he wasn't really looking to buy anything, but he wanted to keep staring at that picture.
"Eh, it's just me and my girlfriend, she works somewhere in the back. Wanna meet her?"
"Sure."
"Kay. Hey Charise!"
Taylor calls out, Charlie flinching ever so slightly at the sudden tone raise. A few moments of silence before the sound of footsteps could be heard and the door behind Taylor opened.
"What is it, Taylor?"
"Sorry sorry, just wanted you to meet Charlie, sorry to bother you."
Charlie turned from the framed drawing to look at Charise, she was a bluestocking. Charlie waved at Charise and her expression softened.
"Hey there, I'm Charise!"
She says happily, excitedly waving back at Charlie, Taylor smiled in amusement at Charise's enthusiasm.
"Why'd you guys buy this retail space?"
"Well, I moved from Ohio and wanted a new start. Charise kinda just snuck in my trunk and came along with me."
Charise made a playful offended face and smacked Taylor's arm a bit.
"Stop saying that! I didn't do that!"
"That doesn't change the fact you almost did"
Charlie snickered at the two's bickering, he found it a bit funny.
"Nice backpack, kid."
Taylor calmly says, gesturing to Charlie's green backpack. He takes a few seconds to realize what she meant.
"Oh. . . Thanks."
"Is your favorite color green?"
Charise asks by the fact Charlie has a green backpack, green isn't usually a common color for stuff like that. Well, that's her opinion though
"No. . .I just like this backpack. . . I dunno why."
He always was drawn to green, though every backpack he got didn't seem right. Like something was off. Either the colour or how it looks.
". . . Hey Taylor?"
"Yah?"
"Why do you call that drawing 'The Plane'."
Both Charise and Taylor paused. Taylor hesitated to answer.
"Just. . . The name felt right."
"Why?"
Taylor broke eye contact and Charise placed her hand on Taylor's, maybe as some form of comfort. Charlie felt like he said something wrong, but he wanted to know more.
"What was the dream about?"
He asks again, Taylor again hesitating and looking more and more panicked.
"Why do you want to know?"
"Cuz it looks like something in my dreams."
Taylor physically paused, like paused. Her eyes darted slightly from left to right. Charise on the other hand looked unamused.
"Charlie, look this is a touchy subject for Taylor, can you drop it please?"
"But I wanna know."
Charlie didn't understand how this upset Taylor. Charise didn't realize Taylor was staring at Charlie, some form of shock in her eyes.
"Kid, please, just drop it."
"But-"
"No buts."
All Charise wanted to do was protect Taylor, she meant well. Charlie frowned, looking a bit upset, but looking back at Taylor. She was still silent, finally, Charise took notice.
"Taytay? You alright?"
". . ."
Charise took her eyes off Charlie to give Taylor a condensed look, finally, Taylor spoke.
"What. . . What do you remember in your dream, Charlie?"
Charlie was a bit confused at first and needed to figure out a simple answer.
"Uh. . . Wide open grass, a clear sky, and a lifeless voice."
Taylor stopped to stare at Charlie, almost like she was afraid. Charise didn't understand why Taylor kept pausing as she talked, but she knew something was wrong with Charlie's answer.
"Charlie, does the name Airy ring any bells?"
"Um. . ."
Charlie wasn't sure if it was familiar or not, has he heard it before? He wasn't sure. Charise started to connect the dots and let Taylor talk.
"Charlie, have you died before?"
Charlie stopped, that was an odd question. No, he hasn't, he was still alive right now so he'd never died. . . Right? Wait, right? Charlie blinked a few times, something. Has he died? He remembers things dropping and yelling from someone and. . . Then nothing. He doesn't remember what he saw, he was so young. . . What happened back then?
". . . I. . ."
He didn't know how to answer, say yes? But he still wasn't sure. Say no? Well, saying that felt like a lie.
". . . Maybe?"
Charlie settled on maybe, he didn't know what else to say other than that.
"Do you remember anyone that looks like a backpack? A forest green one specifically?"
Charlie searches his mind, did he? Why was Taylor asking so many questions like this? He didn't understand and he was confused. Then, he remembered something. Green, it was all too fuzzy but it was something.
"Maybe? I-I don't know. . ."
Charlie was a bit scared right now, he was confused and a bit scared. Taylor paused before mumbling.
"Holy shit. . ."