Last Christmas- DNF

~2~

20th December ??21

When morning arrives, George's eyes flutter open slowly, blinking almost immediately at the intrusion of light through his windows. Normally he would sleep in late, his blackout curtains blocking out the morning rays until at least gone ten, though this morning they hadn't seemed to work.

Rolling over and extending his arm out for his phone, he felt across the bedside table that happened to be a little more rickety than normal, most likely a loose screw. His arm moved around the whole area, not being able to feel the mobile he left by his bedside every night, instead being met by a splinter on his thumb.

A hissing pain escaped his lips as his eyes snapped open due to the pain. Bringing his thumb to his mouth, he proceeded to wrap his lips around it lightly, trying to remove some of the blood that surrounded his quite large splinter. Upon inspecting his wound once he'd sucked away the blood, he managed to pull out the large wooden splinter that had been the cause of his agony mere moments ago, throwing it down on to the floor where he would most likely tread on it later.

His eyes were slowly adjusting to the light, allowing him to see why his table had been so rough and to seek out his phone. Running a hand through his hair, eyelashes blinked and he could finally see everything around him.

Catching his attention first was the fading wallpaper on the walls, different to how it's always been. He's never been one for wallpaper, always hating the way it could peel or look relatively ugly if put up incorrectly. Though here it was in his bedroom, replacing the baby blue paint that he painted himself when he moved into his house six years ago.

Confusion rushed through him as his eyes began to trail around the rest of the room. His blackout blinds had disappeared, being replaced by ugly curtains with pink and yellow flower patterns adorning them, as well as his bedside table being incredibly rough, not sanded down at all.

Furthermore, his phone wasn't sat upon the bedside table, nor was his digital alarm clock which he hasn't moved since he bought it at a charity shop three months ago. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, he sits up, rubbing his eyes with one of his hands before swinging his legs over the side of the rickety bed that's almost definitely missing some screws.

As well as his bedside table being rough, his floorboards are almost in the same condition, splinters poking out of them across the floor. In addition to this, he's always had carpet, never floorboards.

Thankfully for him, he fell asleep with socks on last night which was making it easier for him to manoeuvre around his room once he decided to investigate the rest of his house. Making it to his bedroom door, he discovered it to be a rotten brown, the complete opposite to its usual white.

If he wasn't confused already, when he opens the door to the rest of the house and makes his way into the kitchen, avoiding splinters, he would be when he saw the kitchen.

The entirety of his kitchen layout has been changed, his fridge being non existent as well as his electric cooker being a gas one. Eyes scanning the room in more detail, he notices small, hand drawn paintings hung up around the kitchen of different utensils, almost certainly never being there before.

He can feel his heart beginning to race, pounding out of his chest as though it's about to burst and leave him in this strange house for dead. Breathing becomes harder as his eyes zone in and out, making it difficult for him to focus.

There's a scarf and long coat hanging up by the door, they're not the ones he knows himself to own but in his state of panic he couldn't care less what he was wearing. Grabbing them and throwing them on, he struggles to open the door, eventually pulling it towards him.

The second his eyes cast upwards from where the handle had been, his heart stops pounding, his breath stops racing, everything stops. Time slows around him as his eyes widen in realisation.

The cars passing by are long, bonnets extending further than they should with door handles being thick on the side of car doors. Almost every car that passes by has huge wheels, similar looking to the design of a horse and cart. Though what was the cause of George's heart beginning to pound again was the brand new Rolls Royce that came driving past at what must've been about 20mph.

He could feel his heart beating even faster than earlier, head spinning in circles as he frantically tried to gather his thoughts. Legs spun him round on the spot, taking in everything around him through panted breaths and darting eyes.

His hearing was muffled as he spun, the faint sound of Hark The Herald Angels Sing echoing through his ears, at least it was still Christmas. That's when he was able to notice the ground, snow patches were scattered across the pavement, the last time it snowed in London enough to settle was before he moved in.

Stumbling over himself with a racing mind, his feet began to lead him over to a door, the one next to his. Reaching his hand out to press where the doorbell usually is, he was met by nothing, simply banging his hand against plastered wall. There was no doorbell in sight, even on the other side, instead, there was a large door knocker in the shape of a ring hung up on the door.

His hands quickly gravitated towards it, clasping around one edge and lifting it up before slamming it back down three times. The noise was too loud, far too overwhelming for his clouded mind causing his breaths to become even more ragged.

It took a few seconds but eventually his ears could pick up sounds of unlocking, though it blended slightly into the ringing that was coursing through the rest of his head. Within a few more seconds, and a few more racing heartbeats, the door was swinging open, revealing someone who was most definitely not his neighbour.

"May I help you?", the man in front of him spoke tiredly, clearly having been woken up by George's pounding on the door.

There wasn't much George could make sense of in his state right now, but the fact that the man in front of him wasn't the old lady that usually lives next door to him was something he could place as true.

"Wheres Mrs Dolley?", George's voice came out as rushed, eyes scanning the man in front of him for any signs that he might be dangerous, yet all he could see were tartan pyjama trousers and a matching top, not at all signs of danger.

"I'm so sorry", the man brought a hand up to rub his eyes, "But I have no idea who you seem to be talking about. Though, I could help you find this Mrs Dolley?"

Georges breathing became even faster, his body beginning to shake as his brain tried to process everything going on around him. His vision was slowly blacking out, spots appearing here and there as his arms were sent forward to try and grab on to something, feeling some sort of support catch him as his legs buckled.

"Sir? Sir are you alright?", a strange voice sounded throughout his head, "Oh gosh. Sir? Can you hear me?", the voice continued to echo, asking him question after question, though there was only one question he wanted the answer to.

"What-", his breath cut him short, "What year?", he felt his knees buckle below him even more as they came into contact with the floor below, the stranger who had been holding him up kneeling down with him.

"What year is it?", the stranger repeated and George put all of his willpower into nodding his head, body still shaking from all of the overwhelming feelings he was experiencing.

"Year?", he repeated again, eyes dipping in and out of vision, occasionally disappearing completely, but he tried to hold on to any grasp of reality.

"It's 1921 sir, now would you like to come inside? You don't seem all too well", the strangers voice trailed off after those first two words.

Processing may have been slow to George right now, but those words hit him like a knife in the chest, twisting deeper and deeper inside him as they made their way deeper and deeper into his mind. His vision became blurrier than it was a few seconds ago, hearing disappearing completely to be replaced with white noise as his eyes rolled back and he felt himself lose consciousness.

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