"And maybe this is why when Pandora opened the box that carried such calamities which inflicted all of mankind, gentle hope emerged too."
- an excerpt of Nikita Gill's poem "Where Hope Comes From"
or in which
the timechild is saved and finds the...
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Cardiff, Wales 1865
His wife seemed to be cross after everything, a frown permanently on her face as she cared for the little blonde girl in the strange red dress. "What would you have had me do, Abigail?" He asked. His wife sighed, stopping the fussing she was doing with the girl's bedsheets.
"Nothing differently my love, I'm upset because of the girl's circumstances, not with you." She turned toward her husband smiling her small sad smile. "Come, Gabriel. We need to let her rest." The man followed after his wife and out of their spare room, shutting the door behind him.
The weight pulled heavily on Pandora's eyelids as she tried to open them. She blinked repeatedly as she tried to clear the fuzziness from her eyesight. She looked from left to right examining her environment, no idea where she was, with off-white walls and wooden furniture scattered sparsely around the room. She leaned up, grabbing for anything loose nearby, finding only a metal hairbrush on the side table.
Pandora rose from the bed, her dark red dress falling to her shins, she held the brush in front of herself as if it were a weapon as she exited the room, walking toward the sound of at least two people having a conversation. She turned toward the people, keeping her hairbrush weapon up. "Hello? Who are you? Where am I?" Pandora questioned, her brain was still fuzzy.
"Oh goodness, girl!" The woman of the two exclaimed, placing her teacup back on its saucer on the table. "That's not a weapon, my dear. It's a brush for your hair." The woman gave her a small smile. "My name is Abigail Fletcher, you are in my home, my husband," she gestured to the man who was seemingly very amused with the young girl. "Gabriel, found you unconscious in the park this morning in the wee hours." Pandora nodded, lowering the hairbrush. "What's your name?" Abigail asked, approaching the girl.
"Pandora, my name is Pandora." Abigail smiled at the teen's words. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Pandora. Where are you from?" Pandora's face scrunched as she tried to think, her eyes lifted back to Abigails. "I cant remember. I can't remember anything."
Gabriel rose to his feet, a look of concern stuck in his deep brown eyes under furrowed eyebrows. "I'll go send for the doctor."
***
"Physically, Pandora is fine, steady heartbeat, excellent breathing, and no sign of any injury to the head. She is physically normal for a 14 year old girl." The doctor stated. "Mentally she seems to have amnesia, loss of any personal memory other than her name." Gabriel was rubbing his chin. "So." The doctor started. "I don't think she should go anywhere, staying here could help her memory return." The doctor finished beginning to collect his instruments. "Dr.Baker, you're saying she should stay here? with us?" Gabriel asked. The doctor looked up at him as he clasped his bag shut. "Will that be an issue, Mr. Fletcher?" He questioned.
"No," Abigail spoke froom the doorway of the sitting room. "It will not, Dr.Baker, we have some extra money and we would have no issue caring for the girl." Gabriel looked to his wife with a small smile.
***
Pandora sat in the bathtub, knees drawn in toward her chest, long blonde hair sticking to her back as Abigail poured another cup of warm water over it. "Such beautiful hair." Abigail spoke as she rubbed some soap into it, it reached midway down her back. "Thank you." Pandora whispered, her hand clasped tightly around her necklace the warm metal easing some worries.
"Do you think your mother had the same color?" She asked softly as she rinsed the soap off the girl. "I don't know, maybe." Pandora spoke softly.
Once Pandora was washed, the water in the tub was tinted red from the dirt coming off her skin and out of her hair. Pandora was wrapped in a towel shivering by the fireplace in her room.
"Alright my dear, I've found a couple dresses from when I was younger and a corset and other underthings for you darling." Abigail appeared at the door, a bundle of fabrics in her arms. Pandora turned curiously looking at the clothes the woman brought. "They're nothing like the frock you came in but we thought you might want something that isn't torn." Abigail explained. She used an extra towel to dry Pandora's length of golden hair.
"This is a chemise." Abigail explained gesturing for the girl to take it. "That is one of your base layers. And these are your drawers." She handed her another piece of fabric. Pandora slipped the chemise over her head letting it fall around her thighs before she dropped her towel and slipped the drawers on. "Okay, look at you already looking better. Alright arms up." Abigail spoke. Pandora did as told, the older woman slid a corset over her head, tightening up the lacing.
The dress that was slipped over Pandora's head was a soft eau de nil green that buttoned from the waist to the throat. Her blond hair was tied into two braids looped on themselves.
Abigail held Pandora's hand pulling her into the sitting room a large smile painted on her face. Gabriel looked up from the newspaper he had been reading, a smile gracing his face. "Look at you, you look like a proper lady, Pandora." Pandora smiled.
"It's not mine," she spoke softly. Abigail squeezed her hand gently. "It is now, my dear Pandora." Abigail had a smile on her face, large and proud.
"You are welcome here as long as you need, our home is open for you, as long as it takes."
