Alone in a house, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, there is dead silence. You go to the window, but see only your own reflection. You move closer, pressing your face up against the glass to see out. You are surrounded by miles of darkness. Isolated.

 

You feel a soft cool breeze on your neck, but it’s gone just as fast as it came. You turn to see where it might have come from, but there’s nothing. And you have to wonder if it’s real. And you have to wonder if you’re sane... And then, you must acknowledge your worst fear, because you know, that it’s true. You know that it wasn’t a breeze at all. It was a breath.

 

You want to run, but there’s nowhere to go. You want to drive away, but your car won’t start. You want to fight, but you don’t know how. And you want to call someone, but what would you say? What would you say if this was all happening the same day your four year old son went missing? What could you say if your son had climbed into an old grandfather clock and didn’t come out? What if you uncovered the reality that there is more to this world than most of us know... than most of us want to know? That there is another dimension. A parallel time. That ghosts are real. And that they can and will hurt you. What would you do if they had your son and unleashing them was the only way to get him back?

 

This is the story of what Alice Greenwood did.

 

This is her Tale of Time.