The Way Back Home: A 1917 Fanfic

Chapter 6: Between Two Worlds

Amelia walked through the gift shop of the Imperial War Museum, her hands clutching onto a thick book of World War One history as she sifted through the pages. Each page gave her even more insight into such a horrific but vital four years into history.

The black and white quality of the photos, along with the blurred colors from the results of the pages being blotched from a printer error, only made her look closer to decipher each soldier's face.

Her eyes were glued to the book as she walked up to the checkout counter, causing her to bump into a few disgruntled and impatient fellow tourists.

She ignored their glares aimed in her direction, not able to remove her focus from the picture in the book she planned to purchase.

Something about it pulled her towards the picture's subject. She looked closer into the picture, trying to look closer to see the facial features of the men in the grainy photograph.

According to the caption below the picture, two soldiers are in the middle of an open field in Flanders, near a casualty clearing station. One of them, a tall dark-haired Lance Corporal, had his hand held out toward the other man, a lieutenant with darker hair and a slightly shorter stature. It seemed like the Corporal was handing something to the Lieutenant, something that glinted in the light similar to dog tags or possessions from a dearly departed comrade.

She read the names that labeled the two soldiers:

(Left): Lance Corporal Will Schofield. (Right): Lieutenant Joe Blake. Schofield hands over the dog tag and family rings belonging to Lt. Blake's fallen brother Thomas Blake, who had joined with him on a mission to deliver a message to the 2nd Devons preventing an attack on German units that would end the lives of over 1600 British men on April 7th, 1917.

Amelia slowly closed the book, holding it to her chest as a chilling shiver raked up her spine as if the temperature in the room suddenly decreased to near subzero.

"Next." The cashier girl at the checkout suddenly called to Aneila, pulling back her attention.

The startled American girl looked up and went to place the book on the glass-case counter.

Amelia looked up at the bespectacled girl preparing to assist with her purchase of the book, History of World War I: BRITAIN.

"Were you able to find everything you wanted?" The cashier asked her in a sincere sweet tone. Her nametag read Lauri.

"Yes." Amelia nodded, looking behind her to see that she was the only customer left in the store. The clock off to the side on the wall read 7:30, only half an hour before the museum was too close for the night.

"Is there something I can try to help you with before you buy this?" Lauri asked, a hint of a faint French accent flowing in her well-meaning question.

Amelia took a step back to look into the glass case of the counter, trying to see if any worthy souvenirs were available.

A framed picture in the glass cabinet caught her eye, black and white, and having one figure in the view from the bosom up...

A young woman, with short blond hair, stared into the camera and pierced her gaze straight at Amelia as she looked at the photograph, dated December 24th, 1918.

A wedding veil wreathed with what appeared to be cherry blossoms crowned upon her head, the lacy material flowing down past where the picture ended. The post-war bride held in her hands a bouquet of freshly bloomed Roses, the remembrance flower of The Great War...

Amelia's mouth hung open in shock her heart began to pound in her chest as she looked closer at the unnamed woman's features.

This unnamed bride looked precisely like Amelia, even in the lack of animated colors within the picture. An exact likeness of Amelia; not just a vague resemblance in her face, but the proportions in her features were exactly similar.