The large, heavy oak door massively covered the entrance to the building...Erica reached up to grasp the cold, metal handle....

It was shockingly frigid. As if it had not been touched by human hands in years. This old chapel of a building had always haunted her. In the summers, when the leaves were green with summer, Erica would often play down by the river bed, just yards from it's little fenced in garden and enticing entrance. Often she would imagine herself a young bride, ready to meet the love of her life as the oak door would swing wide inviting her to step into her dreams and truly live.