After an unexplainable accident Annabelle finds herself hundred years in the past. In the boom of the 1920s, the era of Jazz and bootleggers. But it's not just the 20s she now has to deal with, she also happens to find herself stumble right into the...
It seemed like luck was on my side for once in a while, since I actually found a food hall after continuing my search for another ten minutes.
With my head held low I went to get a loaf of bread, jam, vegetables, pasta and soup, same as a bag to carry all of my groceries back home.
Or at least what I will call home from now on.
On top of that I bought a big jar of coffee, knowing that I wouldn't survive two days without the black life essence.
I could definitely feel the curious glances a lot of the women in the market gave me, looking me up and down.
"I wish George would go to the market for me sometimes, a lucky wife he must have."
I heard one of the women say behind me to another one. Slightly uncomfortable with the situation I paid the lady infront of me, still keeping my face hidden from the curious eyes around me.
"I've never seen him around, he might be a bachelor."
The other one said, and I could basically hear the grin in her voice.
Oh damn, nice to know that it only takes a coat and hat for me to look like a man. I am not even that tall with my 5'6", at least where I come from.
An unamused huff left my mouth as I made my way out of the hall, trying to orientate myself to get back home.
I happened to have the orientation sense of a brick.
Remembering that I came from Watery Lane so I walked it back down with a fast paste, knowing well enough that I shouldn't be there longer than necessary.
I kept my head low and turned corners a few times until I could see the two story house on the side of the road. Just like earlier I tried to be as quiet as possible, making my way up the stairs, into my flat.
When I closed the door behind my back, I let out a relieved sigh and put the bag next to me on the ground. Putting hat and coat onto the hangers next to the door I grabbed the bag and made my way to the kitchen.
"Gosh I am starving.."
I mumbled to myself as I pulled the loaf of bread out of the bag. Setting everything else to the side with the thought of putting it away tomorrow, I just stuffed my mouth with a dry piece of bread and went to the bedroom.
Before doing anything else, I checked on my employment contract, to see what time I would have to be at the boutique tomorrow, turned out I could sleep in. I didn't have to be there until 14 o'clock.
Still having half of the slice hanging out of my mouth I stripped out of my clothes and went back to the kitchen in my underwear and bra.
An old habit I will probably never loose. After getting myself a glass of water to splash down the rest of the bread, I made my way to the bathroom, to get ready for bed.
Even though I knew that the first actual toothbrushes were invented in '38, I was somewhat hoping to find a normal toothbrush.
Obviously I didn't.
Instead I found something that kind of looked like a toothbrush, just that the head was much bigger than the one I was used to.
If I remember correctly, most of the bristles were made out of pig-hair. I couldn't stop myself from making a disgusted face while letting my thumb slide over the harsh bristles. I mean, at least I had a toothbrush. Luckily I didn't just have a toothbrush but also some Colgate toothpaste. After washing my face with some cold water I looked at myself in the mirror. Just now I noticed the circular scar in the middle of my stomach, turning around I tried to look at my back in the mirror, just to see that there was the exact same scar as on my front side.
Everything seemed so surreal.
Part of me still wanted to believe that I was just dreaming.
All of a sudden I started to feel incredibly helpless. I had no clue if I would ever be able to go back home. And that is when one very significant thought hit me.
Am I dead?
After all I do remember getting literally impaled with an at least two inch radius metal pole.
But, no, I don't feel dead. Maybe I am in a coma? People always say that when you're in a coma you enter another reality.
Maybe this is just a coma dream and soon I'll wake up in the hospital, not remembering any of this. And as conflicted as I was in this situation, I couldn't stop myself from being hopeful.
Do I even want to go back home? Isn't this what I always wanted? A life independent from my parents, pursuing the career I dreamed of since I was little, with the chance of experiencing something exciting, maybe even a little dangerous?
Even if this was just imagination, I shouldn't waste my chance of living my dream. I finally want to do something with my life, without anybody telling me what I should do.
With that thought I slapped my hands against the sink and turned away making my way to the bed I woke up in, just a few hours ago. I wouldn't let this chance go by untaken. I snuggled into the sheets and closed my eyes, hoping that whatever this is, would still be there when I wake up tomorrow morning.
