A World Rewritten
1762 Words
Darkness...
Not the kind that came when someone switched off a light.
This darkness stretched endlessly, swallowing every sound until Amelia could no longer hear her own breathing.
Then...tick.
A single sound echoed somewhere in the distance.
Tick...tick...
The rhythm grew louder, surrounding her from every direction.
She tried to open her eyes but she couldn't.
Her body felt impossibly heavy, as though she were sinking beneath deep water.
The ticking became faster, a brilliant light flashed behind her eyelids.
For one impossible moment, images poured into her mind.A towering palace crowned with white stone, a girl in a pale blue riding habit laughing as she urged her horse across an open field.
A ballroom shimmering beneath thousands of candles, a young man dressed in black military uniform,his face remained hidden.
Voices...too many voices.
"My lady..."
"The physician..."
"She still hasn't awakened..."
"The Duke mustn't lose hope..."
The voices blurred together until they became nothing more than distant echoes.
Amelia frowned.
Why did they sound so close? A strange scent filled the air.Lavender, fresh linen, beeswax.
Not antiseptic or disinfectant, slowly...she opened her eyes.
Sunlight poured through enormous windows draped in ivory silk, illuminating a room unlike anything she had ever seen.
A carved wooden canopy stood above the bed, its cream-colored curtains tied back with gold cords.
The ceiling rose impossibly high, painted with delicate clouds and flowering vines.
A crystal chandelier glittered overhead, scattering tiny rainbows across polished oak floors.
Her heart skipped.
"What..."
She sat upright far too quickly, pain shot through the side of her head.
She winced.
The bed beneath her wasn't a hospital bed, it wasn't even modern.The blankets were impossibly soft, embroidered with tiny silver flowers.
The furniture...every piece looked handmade and ancient.
Her breathing quickened.
"This isn't..."
A sharp knock interrupted her thoughts. The door swung open before she could answer, three young women hurried inside.
Each wore identical dark blue dresses with crisp white aprons tied neatly around their waists.Their hair was pinned beneath lace caps.
The moment they saw Amelia sitting upright.
"My Lady!"
One of them gasped so loudly that another nearly dropped the silver tray she was carrying.
"She's awake!"
"Oh, thank heavens!"
"I must inform Her Grace immediately!"
Before Amelia could utter a single word, one of the women hurried from the room, the remaining two rushed to her bedside.
"My lady," one whispered, tears filling her eyes. "You gave us such a fright."
Amelia stared.
"I'm sorry?"
The women exchanged worried glances.
"My lady...are you in pain?"
"No..."
She hesitated.
"Where am I?"
Silence.
The maid blinked.
"My lady?"
"What hospital is this?"
The question seemed to confuse them even more.
"Hospital?"
Amelia looked from one face to the other, the strange way they addressed her but nothing made sense.
Her pulse raced.
"I was at the museum."
Neither woman spoke.
"I came here on a school trip."
Still nothing.
"My friend Chloe was with me."
One maid slowly reached for the other's hand.
"My lady..."
Her voice trembled.
"perhaps you should wait for the physician."
"No."
Amelia threw back the blankets and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.
"I need my phone."
The words escaped automatically.
"My...what?"
"My phone."
Blank stares.
"My bag?"
Nothing.
"My clothes?"
Again...
Silence.
A cold knot formed in Amelia's stomach, then she looked down. Instead of jeans and her cream sweater, she wore a long white nightdress trimmed with delicate lace.
The sleeves reached her wrists, the fabric pooled around her feet.
She froze.
"No..."
One maid stepped forward.
"My lady, you should remain in bed. The physician said..."
"I said no!"
Her voice rang through the room, the maids immediately lowered their eyes.
Neither spoke or moved, Amelia hadn't expected that.
They looked...afraid of disobeying her.
"I'm..."
She swallowed.
"I'm sorry."
The younger maid offered a hesitant smile.
"It is quite alright, my lady."
A commotion echoed from the hallway, then the doors opened once more, a beautifully dressed woman hurried inside.
She couldn't have been older than forty-five.
Her dark chestnut hair was arranged beneath an elegant lace cap, and a sapphire silk gown swept across the floor as she crossed the room.
The moment she saw Amelia...tears spilled down her cheeks.
"My darling..."
Without hesitation, she wrapped Amelia in a fierce embrace.
"You are awake."
Her voice cracked.
"You are finally awake."
Amelia sat frozen.
She didn't know this woman, she had never seen her before in her life. Yet the woman held her as though she were embracing her own daughter.
Behind her stood a tall gentleman with streaks of silver in his dark hair.Though his expression remained composed, relief softened his features.
He took a slow breath.
"Thank God."
The room fell completely silent, every servant bowed their head. The woman gently cupped Amelia's face.
"Oh, Emilia..."
"Mother has been so worried."
Mother.
The word echoed in Amelia's mind. She stared at the woman before her, unable to move or speak.
This couldn't be happening, there had to be some mistake.
"I'm sorry," she said carefully, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think you've mistaken me for someone else."
The room fell silent and the woman's smile faltered.
"What...did you say?"
"I don't know who you are."
Amelia looked from the elegantly dressed woman to the gentleman standing beside her.
"And I don't know who he is either."
The gentleman's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"My lady..."
one of the maids murmured nervously.
The woman took Amelia's hands into hers.
"Emilia..."
"I think my name is Amelia."
The words escaped before she could stop them and the gentleman finally spoke.
His voice was calm, deep, and carried the quiet authority of a man accustomed to being obeyed.
"You suffered a severe fall from your horse three days ago."
Amelia frowned.
"Horse?"
"You struck your head."
"I've never ridden a horse."
A look passed between the gentleman and the woman. It was brief,barely noticeable but Amelia saw it.
Concern.
The gentleman turned toward the maid nearest the door.
"Send for Dr. Whitmore."
"At once, Your Grace."
The maid curtsied before hurrying from the room.
Your Grace?
Amelia's eyes widened, she looked back at the gentleman.
His dark coat was unlike anything she'd ever seen outside a historical drama. It fit him perfectly, embroidered subtly at the cuffs, with a cream waistcoat beneath and a neatly tied cravat at his throat.
Even the polished riding boots looked handmade, nothing about him appeared like a costume.
Nothing.
The woman beside him wore layers of pale blue silk, her skirts flowing gracefully over the polished wooden floor, pearls rested at her neck.
Everything about them looked...real.
"I'm afraid," the gentleman said gently, "that you have no recollection of who you are."
"I know exactly who I am."
Amelia's voice shook.
"My name is Amelia Carter."
No response.
"I live in Manhattan."
Silence.
"I'm eighteen."
The woman's eyes brimmed with fresh tears.
"My darling..."
She stroked Amelia's hair with trembling fingers.
"You have always been eighteen."
"No!"
Amelia pulled away.
"My parents don't look like you."
"I don't live here."
"I was in a museum."
"I have school on Monday."
Every sentence sounded more desperate than the last. No one interrupted or argued, they simply watched her with heartbreaking sympathy. As though she were the one who didn't understand.
The physician arrived moments later, he was an elderly man carrying a worn leather case.
He bowed respectfully to the Duke and Duchess before approaching the bed.
"My Lady."
He offered Amelia a kind smile.
"I am Dr. Whitmore."
She didn't answer.
"May I?"
He gestured toward the chair beside her.
She nodded weakly.
The physician checked her pulse, he looked into her eyes and asked simple questions.
"Do you know today's date?"
"October."
"October...what year?"
"Two thousand twenty-six."
The physician paused, he glanced toward the Duke.
"And where do you believe you are?"
"New York."
"No."
She corrected herself.
"A museum."
The physician remained silent for a long moment before closing his notebook.
"I see."
He stood.
The Duchess immediately rose.
"Doctor?"
He lowered his voice.
"May I speak with Your Grace privately?"
They moved only a few steps away, but Amelia could still hear fragments of the conversation.
"head injury..."
"memory..."
"not uncommon..."
"recognizes nothing..."
"with time..."
The Duchess covered her mouth and the Duke folded his hands behind his back, saying nothing.
Amelia's stomach twisted, they thought she had amnesia, she almost laughed.
If only it were that simple.
. . .
The room gradually emptied until only one maid remained.She appeared to be older than the others, perhaps in her early thirties.
She stood quietly near the fireplace.
"My lady?"
Amelia looked up.
"My name is Margaret."
She spoke gently, without pity.
"If there is anything you require, you need only ask."
Amelia hesitated.
"Can you tell me where I am?"
Margaret smiled sadly.
"You are at Ashcroft Manor, my lady."
Ashcroft Manor, the name meant nothing.
"And...who am I?"
"You are Lady Emilia Ashcroft."
Margaret answered so naturally it sent a chill through Amelia.
"The only daughter of His Grace, Duke Edmund Ashcroft, and Her Grace, Duchess Eleanor Ashcroft."
Every word sounded like something from one of the history books she'd loved as a child.
"This is a dream."
Margaret tilted her head.
"I beg your pardon?"
"A dream."
Amelia forced a smile.
"I'll wake up eventually."
Margaret didn't understand.
Instead, she crossed the room and gently drew back the heavy velvet curtains.
Sunlight flooded the chamber.
Beyond the windows stretched acres of breathtaking gardens.
Rose bushes bloomed in perfect rows, a marble fountain sparkled in the center of a circular drive, farther away stood magnificent stables.
Beyond them...
Rolling green hills disappeared into the horizon.No skyscrapers, traffic or distant sirens.
Nothing.
Only the breeze rustling through ancient oak trees. Amelia felt her breath catch.
"Where is the city?"
Margaret looked puzzled.
"My lady?"
"Valebourne is nearly half a day's journey by carriage."
Amelia slowly approached the window, her reflection appeared faintly in the glass.
Without thinking, she reached out, the face staring back wasn't hers.
The same chestnut hair...but longer, thicker...her features were softer.
Her eyes, once a warm brown, were now a striking shade of blue-grey.
She lifted a trembling hand, the girl in the reflection did the same.
"No..."
Her whisper barely existed.
"No..."
Her knees threatened to give way.
"This..."
She pressed her fingertips against the cool glass.
"this isn't my face."
For the first time since waking...real fear settled into her heart, bcause dreams eventually ended.
This one...felt painfully real.
- Writer
