1600 Diary

Day 2:

The morning seemed to come sooner than expected. I was cold and so was the chilling winter air.

I woke up and looked around the room. The window in the room shed light on the objects that lay around me. There was a small wooden stool but other than that and the bed; nothing really was in the room.

I stood up and went to go and see where Catherine was. I walked down the stairs of the small house to be met with a large brick oven. It was my height and at least two metres wide. The fire roared inside; hissing against the red coals and bringing out the smell of baked bread. Catherine's father was stood beside the oven heaped over a pile of dough, kneading and pressing it against the countertop. I asked the rough man where Catherine was and he gestured to the stairs. I turned around to see Catherine holding a wicker basket with clothing in it.

She gasped as she looked at me. It may have been my hair or my appearance; either way she seemed shocked.

"You need to change out of what you're wearing or else you'll be accused of being a witch."

She led me to her room. She threw a dress to me and a pair of shoes.

"How do I put this on?" I held out the blue and grey dress to her.

She laughed. "You really aren't from around here are you?"

She took the dress and told me to take off my shirt. She looked at my bra like it was a brand new iPhone.

"What is that?" She poked at the straps and the under wiring. Glee spread across her face as she inspected the piece of annoying lingerie.

"It's a bra; it's what women wear where I come from."

"What about your corset? What do you wear to make you not appear fat?"

"Spanx, mostly."

"Where you come from is very odd."

She gave me the white corset and told me to take off that "odd breast holder" I was wearing. I did just as she said but I was seemingly lost on what to do next.

"Could you help tie me up?" I held the sides of my white corset and felt her hands tug at the think strings.

"Suck in your breath!" She pulled again. I thought my ribs might crush under the pressure but didn't which surprised me above anything. I sucked my breath to the point I was afraid I just might pass out due to lack of oxygen.

Suddenly, the pulling stopped and strings were moved together to tie a strong knot.

"How is it?" Catherine looked at me with admiration.

"You have a really small waist. Where did your lumps go?"

"They're called curves where I come from; lumps are rather rude term." I huffed in offence.

"Sorry; you have a lot of them I was simply wondering." She asked if I needed help with my dress but I simply said I was fine.

The blue and grey frock was rather pleasant; its material was heavy and scratchy but it was pretty. The corset did make me look really nice. It smoothened out all my "Lumps" and made me stand straighter. I could barely breathe but that was a small complaint in comparison to how good I looked.

When I came downstairs I was met with Catherine talking to her father. He looked to me and seemed to grin.

"You can't walk around town with that short hair; you'll be stared at and called a witch."

"Papa, you're right. I'll go and get some fabric to make a hair scarf."

"I can wrap one if you go and get the fabric."

Catherine ran off and grabbed some grey fabric. It was the same consistency as my canvas dress. I wrapped my hair up in a 1950's vintage turban wrap and let some of my dark brown bangs hang out the front.

"You look like a princess." Catherine had an enormous grin from ear to ear.

"Thank you, Lady Catherine." We both giggled.

"Papa, could we go to the market and pick up some food?"

"Fine, how much do you need?" He grumbled and pulled out a small maroon fabric pouch.

"...a shilling." Catherine was looking at her shoes as the words came out of her mouth.

"A shilling?!?!" His face was red and his eyes bugged. Anger was the only emotion I could see on his features.

"Please, papa. I wanted to but some of those specials flowers for the house. It will be the last time that I will ask for money."

"She sounds like me before I go to the mall." I muttered under my breath.

Her father gave her the schilling and we were on our way into the town.

It was a quaint town; wooden house with merchants yelling about their products and how cheap they were. It was like commercials in real life.

A boy across from us in the street stared on at Catherine. He looked richer than most with a light green silk shirt and a hat to match. He was probably of noble birth; he also seemed to hold such a certain amount of arrogance about him.

I looked to Catherine and she looked to him in quick glances. She giggled and grinned to him.

"Jeez, Casanova; enough with the flirting and go talk to him." I shoved her shoulder and she awoke from his staring war with the good looking man.

"Who's Casanova?"

"Never mind about Casanova; go speak to that boy. He's cute; you're interested in him and he is interested in you. Things are very well going to happen."

"I can't. Do you even understand who that man is?"

"Not even a clue. Why can't you?" I folded my arms as if to demand an explanation.

"That is Sir Robert Newberry. He is noble birth and 14th in line for the throne. If he's seen talking to a baker's daughter, people will speak."

"Who cares what people say? They're people and they don't know anything."

"How can you be so different than anything I've ever experienced?" She giggled and so did I.

We moved on from that and bought Chrysanthemums, Daisies, and Peonies. They came in and array of colours and shone bright among all the brown of the wooden houses and the mud of the streets. It would be a fantastic photo if cameras even existed.

We walked back to the house and were met with her father's gentle smile. She game him back the four pence that were left.

"Your mother always loved Chrysanthemums, bless her soul."

"If you do not mind, what happened to her?" I asked just to try understanding this family.

"Black Death; she passed in the summer when it passed at its worse." said Catherine's father.

"It will be going down as one of the worst diseases to ravage Europe in The Middle Ages." I mutter to myself.

"Papa, why did she have to die?" Catherine begins to shed tears.

"Come here child." He embraced her as she cried into his chest.

I knew that this, whatever this was, would not be easy to get out of. I knew that I needed to learn what I could of this time than leave as fast as time would allow me to.