The Dress

Chapter 2

I woke up staring at a high ceiling and I could see a wooden bedpost.I moaned from the tapping sun-light against my face, wondered how long I'd been sleeping. I blinked, shut my eyes, blinked again. I yawned, managed to fully open both eyes. 

My mind is fuzzy, the last remnants of a dream being chased away by the realisation that I am awake again. It was a nice dream, something about sitting in a big oak tree in meadow full of flowers but the details are fading fast even as I try to recall them. With a mental sigh I allow my brain to focus and cautiously opened one eye. The bright spring sunlight cuts the room in half and I see dust-motes dancing in the wall of light.I couldn't recognize where I was.

I sat up, looking right in front of me. I found myself in the dress I fainted in— the red beautiful dress. The lustrous, pearl-beaded fabric of my dress glinted, light reflecting from the ballrooms glow. It fit flawlessly, the dress molded my torso beautifully, complimenting my feminine shape. The gown draped past my toes, slightly drifting from my legs.

 It's strapless style revealed my precious collarbones wrapped in smooth, luring, skin. My posture was perfect, my shoulders were pulled back and my hands were held together in front of me. There was a silk band at the top, lining around the top of the bust.  The weird thing was that there was no stench from it.

"Isabella, you're awake!" I heard a familiar voice exclaim.

I turned to my right and frowned. "Rose?"

She was Rosalie, but something told me she wasn't Rosalie. She had on a similar dress, but hers was a buttercup yellow. She had a matching large hat with feathers sticking out at one side. I first thought that it was a prank set up for me.

She poured some tea from the porcelain pot that was beside her on the bedside table and into the small little tea cups.

"You really shouldn't eat so much during breakfast," Rosalie started.

"I get that you did not eat dinner last night, but do not binge! Do you know how tiring it is to loosen the lace from your corset?"

Corset? Where the heck was I? I felt my back and sure enough, I could feel untied ribbons. I was wearing a corset.

Rosalie stared at me. 

"Is there something wrong?"

"Where am I?" I asked.

"You're at home, Isabella. If you really don't feel well, you should probably continue resting." She replied, worried.

"Rosalie, where am I? What city is this?" I asked, my voice threateningly low.

She blinked away her sudden fear and frowned. 

"Chicago. Is there really something wrong, Isabella?"

Chicago? How the hell did I end up in Chicago? Why were we wearing corsets? Why aren't we wearing jeans and tees? I was utterly confused. If we were in corsets and huge dresses like this, I had to be in the wrong time, except that time-traveling was impossible... was it? I didn't know.

"Rose?" I started. "What's the date today?"

"February ninth, nineteen eighteen." She replied without hesitation.

When I heard the year, my heart thudded faster. How did I get here? 1918 was less than a century ago but ninety years ago. I honestly didn't know what was happening.

I spotted a window on the wall beside the French doors and I threw the covers of the bed off me. I ran to the window and could not believe what I saw.

There were quite a number of horse carriages and a few cars, but I don't think I'd even call it a car. The cars had open windows and... Looked so slow. Boys were riding bicycles, but not like the ones in my time. From above, I could only recognize women from their huge feathered hats. Rosalie wasn't kidding. I was in a different time.