FRANCESCA
My heart was pounding loudly in my chest as I stood in the middle of nowhere. I had been walking for a long time, trying to find my way out, but I kept returning to this same junction — every time.Tall trees stood as mountains around me, such that I could not see ahead of me. But I knew I was somewhere in a thick forest and I wondered how I had gotten there.The last thing I could remember was returning my novel to the shelf and going to sleep on my bed in my room. How then had I moved from being in my room to being in a forest? What was going on?The night was silent except for the hooting of an owl from a distance and the occasional croaking of toads. The crickets were chirping annoyingly too but aside from these creatures, the night was pin-drop silent. The silence was frightening.The sky had a few stars scattered around it with an ivory-shaped moon which shone its light lazily, casting faint shadows on the ground.Rather than aid my sight, this faint moonlight only made the trees around me look darker, like tall ghosts coming after me. The sight sent shivers down my spine and I wrapped my arms around my body, tears blurring my sight as I shuddered. I was still wearing my night dress, a light fabric which could not protect me from the cold of the night.What was going on? Where was I? I kept thinking.Not knowing what else to do, I tried one more time to see if I could find my way out but just like the three other times I had tried, I returned to the same spot. It was like I was going around a circle: there did not seem to be a way of escape for me.My bare feet were dirty, bruised and sore from walking too much in the woods."What's going on?" I cried out, a tear dropping from my eyes and rolling down my cheek."What's going on?" I screamed this time and my voice echoed in the woods.But I stopped screaming when I heard a noise behind me. Fear so great gripped me and I turned sharply, my hazel eyes wide with fear as I stared at the direction the noise was coming from.A figure was walking right out of the bush, dressed in a black cloak which covered most of his face.Scared, my lips parted but no sound came out of my mouth. It felt like I had suddenly lost my voice — and my senses too because my feet remained rooted to the ground when all I wanted to do was to run.But run where? I found myself wondering. All the time I had been running, I had been unable to find my way out, it was like I was locked in a maze and every attempt of mine was futile.Tears rolled out of my eyes as I shook in fear, wondering if my end had finally come. I was finally going to die without saying a proper goodbye to my loved ones.The creature in a black cloak was walking slowly to where I was standing and I closed my eyes, too frozen with fear to move an inch.But my eyes flew open when I heard a soft voice: sweet and mellifluous.Standing before me was an old woman whose crooked body looked so feeble. She had pulled the cloak off her head and I sagged with relief. My legs became jittery and I dropped to the ground, panting hard. I was so relieved that it was only an old feeble gray-haired woman.For a moment, I had thought I was in danger but the old woman looked so weak that I stifled a laugh, finding my former fear to be hilarious. But I was brought out of my amusement when she spoke."Mila," The old woman called out, staring kindly at me with a bright smile on her face. "Mila Kunis. I found you. Finally."She was dressed in a white dress underneath the black cloak she had on and I wondered who she was and why she was referring to me as Mila Kunis.Mila Kunis was a character in the novel I had been reading that night before going to bed. Why would this old woman call me by a character's name?"Are you lost too?" I found myself asking her as I slowly rose to my feet.But the old woman did not reply, rather she resumed her walk and only stopped when she was a foot away from me."Come home, Mila." She said, her voice coming out as a whisper so that I could barely hear what she was saying. "You have been gone for too long. It's time to come home, Mila."I frowned in confusion, wondering why she was calling me Mila. Did the old woman think I was Mila? Mila was a fictitious character that did not exist. What was wrong with this old lady?Though I wanted to ask these questions, I decided against it. I would rather play along. Who knows, it might just be a coincidence that the woman knew someone who went by the same name as a character in the novel I had been reading the previous night."Is Mila your daughter, ma'am?" I asked, trying so hard to relax even when everything was freaking me out."Yes!" The old woman smiled. "And you are Mila."Immediately she said that I concluded that she had gone nuts. That was the only explanation I could give for her thinking I was her daughter. My mom was dead. She died a year ago from cancer. In fact, I was to go to the cemetery the next day for her anniversary.How then would this old lady who looked nothing like my mother think I was her daughter? She must have dementia."I'm not Mila." I began calmly. "My name is Francesca. Francesca Johnson. I was in my bedroom some moments ago. I have no idea how I got here. But I need to return to my room right now. Can you help?""Oh, blind child." The old woman shook her head once again and when she looked at me, her gray eyes were moist with unshed tears. Pity was written all over her face.That made my frown deepen. One thing I hated was pity. I did not want anyone to feel sorry for me."Oh, Blind child." The old woman repeated, taking a step backwards and slowly fading away into space.I stretched my hand forward to catch her but she disappeared before I could touch her.Just when she disappeared, I woke up, panting loudly and sweating profusely. My heart was slamming hard at my ribcage and fear clung to my skin as I looked around.But when I discovered that I was back in my room, I sighed in relief and fell back to my bed."It was a dream," I mumbled with my eyes shut.But I soon got out of bed and walked to my little shelf where I kept all my books. I picked up the novel which I had been reading before I slept and I examined it, staring at the pages intently.Though It was a great relief that it had been a dream, I was still troubled. I have been having strange dreams since my mother died and all the dreams had one message: Come home, Mila.But Mila was just a fictitious character.As I held the novel in my hand, I wondered if there was more to my dreams or if I was having them only because I was too engrossed in the story of the novel.Though I wanted to believe that my daily reading of this book had caused my dreams, I could not help but think there was something more to the dreams than I could understand — especially with the way I had gotten the novel.It had not been gotten from a bookstore or a library but I had found it lying on my verandah a year ago.I had no idea where it had come from but as an ardent reader, I was curious to read it. The book had no title nor author but my interest had been piqued from the first page and now I cannot stop reading.Though I had completed my reading of the book, I kept re-reading — the story was too enchanting; each time I read the book, it was as if I was reading for the first time. I was addicted to the book. I did not want to read any other thing.I scanned the pages of the book again, hoping to find an author — or anything that would give a clue — but as usual, I found none.Confused, I stayed up all night, pondering on my dream, and being too scared to drift back to sleep.FRANCESCA The sun was starting to set when I finally stood up to leave. I had been at my mom's tomb all day, crying my eyes out as I paid her homage. It was her anniversary that day and my boyfriend, Jason had promised to go with me to the cemetery. But a board meeting had come up and had truncated our plans, forcing me to go alone. Now, I was here, torn and broken, staring at the inscription on her tombstone: Ella Johnson. A beloved mother. That was who she was to me. My beloved mother. I still could not believe she was gone. I still hoped that one day I would wake up to her sitting by my bed, holding a plate of pancakes and teasing me for thinking she was dead. But that was a desire that could never be actualized. She was dead. She had died a year ago from cancer. The memory still hurt badly because everyone thought she was gonna survive it. She had been responding well to treatment but had suddenly not woken up the next morning. It was strange and I was yet to figure things
FRANCESCA I was sprinting at lightning speed through a violent wind. It was as though I was being carried away by the wind and as I sprinted, a quick documentary of my life played before my eyes Images of my adulthood down to my childhood flashed before my eyes as I ran but these images vanished when it got to my babyhood. It was strange because I thought it should be from babyhood to adulthood and not the other way around, but I willed myself not to care, rather I focused on my environment, trying to make out where I was. Was I in heaven or hell? The last thing I could remember was being hit by a vehicle. So where was I and how did I move from lying on the bare ground to flying in the sky? Everywhere was bright. The light was blinding and I squinted a bit to shut the light from hurting my eyes. I sure must be in heaven, I thought to myself. I had heard stories about the heavens being filled with light so I must be in heaven. A soft voice was humming a melodious tune and I s
RIOIt was a struggle but I was finally able to open my eyes after some time. It had felt like scales had been used to seal my eyelids such that they were heavy to lift.However, after a few trials, my eyes fluttered open but I soon shut them because of the sharpness of the sun's rays. The sun was facing me directly and its lights hurt my tired eyes. Groaning loudly, I brought an arm to my forehead, trying to shield myself from the harshness of the sun, but even that was difficult because my arm felt like a weight. It was suddenly too heavy to lift.As if this was not enough, my head was aching badly, like someone was pounding it with a pestle. As I lay there, I wondered what had happened and why I was in so much pain.My entire body hurt. I could not tell where exactly was in pain but it felt like I was swollen everywhere. My body did not feel like mine anymore; it felt so heavy and this scared me.Opening my eyes again — this time, shielding my face from the sun — I looked to the s
FRANCESCA I was out of breath when I finally finished speaking and the old woman was staring at me blankly, like I was a radio she was listening to. I stared back at her. Then she smiled and stood to her feet. I watched her walk to the end of the room and go to a wardrobe where she pulled out a drawer. She picked something from it, closed the drawer, and walked back to me, slowly, her smile still on her face. Her skin was paler than in my dream and her hair was more grey than I had thought it was. I was getting to see her features much better now that she was standing right before me in reality. She sat back on her chair and handed me a necklace with a pearl locket. "Do you remember this?" She asked me and I stared at it intently with my eyes narrowed."Am I supposed to?" The necklace did look familiar but I could not tell where I had seen it or who it belonged to. "Yes," she looked hurt but she smiled again, and the hurt vanished from her eyes, "Well, I do not expect you to r
FRANCESCA "We all knew you were different when you were born. First, you were not born the regular way and second, a light shone on your forehead like a diamond shape when you came out of your mother. You also did not have the pointy ears or paleness of an elf. This had never happened before so the elders claimed that you might be dangerous and should be killed but your parents refused. They didn't want to kill their only daughter. "Zuri, your mother's friend, was not happy about this in particular and she tried to convince your mother. She even went as far as saying that you'll bring doom to Irkstone. She was a seer so she lied to your mother that she had seen into your future. "But your mother could not bear to kill her child. Angry that your mother won't listen to her, Zuri left Irkstone. She was never really part of us. She was a sorceress your mother had found almost dead in the woods. You would think she would be faithful to your mother for saving her, but no, Zuri killed you
RIOI had been running since with no definite destination on my mind. All through, the path had been lonely and as I moved further away, I could sense from within that I was wandering farther away from home. This was scary because I had never had any reason to leave my packland: it was where I had been born and where I had grown up, but I guess things were changing now. I was embarking on a journey of the unknown, a journey in which I did not know what to expect: if I would survive or not.It was a known fact that an alpha should not be out alone, wandering about in the woods with no company but I did not think I had the right to be accompanied by warriors anymore. For all I knew, I had lost that right. I had flouted all the rules my father had taught me: An alpha's duty was to protect his pack. An alpha was never one to run in the face of danger. An alpha was not one to be left vulnerable in the hands of others. But I was not that alpha anymore.Currently thinking about my father
FRANCESCA It has been three days since I found myself stuck in this new world with no way out. Three days yet I was just as confused and heartbroken as the first day. Nothing seemed to make sense: not the ragged dressing, not the buildings, not even the food. That morning, Madam Creese — the old lady had told me to call her that — had made me some pancakes which looked different from what I was used to. They were more like crepes or tortillas, unlike what was made in the future. According to Madam Creese, I was over five hundred years behind time. Living here would require a lot of getting used to and the truth was that I was tired even before I could explore this new world. I wanted to return to my old life. I wanted to live in my house, sit on my bed, read my novels, and go for a walk. I wanted to be able to visit my mother's gravestone anytime I wanted to. I wanted to see my friends again. As I stood by the river, I found myself wondering what my friends were thinking about
FRANCESCA I was right. There was someone behind the tree. It was a man and he was walking slowly towards me, his green eyes fixed on me. I stared right back at him, surprised to see a human being in the woods. Since I found myself here, I had not come in contact with any human except Madam Creese so it was quite shocking yet pleasing to see someone else. I watched him, my eyes taking in his appearance as he approached me slowly. He was dressed in rags just as I was — I guess he was dressed worst. His tunic was ripped by the side and the brown breeches he wore were torn. From his dirty and bruised feet, I could tell he had been walking a lot. Was he a wanderer? Did he even have a roof over his head? I pulled my eyes from his feet back to his face and my heart skipped a bit at the beauty that was now standing a few feet away from me. He had full brows and long lashes. His nose was long and pointed and his full lips were a sensuous sight: they were a light shade of pink; the cup