Althea
I woke up feeling severe pain all over my body. Of course I would be in pain. I remember running into the middle of the busy road to stop two little kids from being pancaked by an incoming truck.
Somehow I managed to get them out of the way before the truck hit me and sent me flying into the air and I landed a few distance, breaking a very large amount of bones.
The only thing I remember is the crowd surrounding me and trying to call for an ambulance. But it did not seem like I am in an hospital. The roof of this room made of straws and sticks looked ready to collapse and kill me one more time, the bed was extremely hard, sleeping on the bare floor might even be better.
I stirred and shifted trying to move but.. Pain, it rushed through my body like some sort of electric shock. I could not even scream out, just groans and grunts of discomfort came out of my mouth. I could not breathe properly, probably all my ribs are broken pressing on my lungs.
I shifted my gaze to stare up at the ceiling again. One thing was for certain, that ready-to-collapse ceiling did not belong to a hospital, let alone a twenty-first-century building. The way it was positioned and joined was too haphazard. It wouldn't even pass the inspection phase during its building period, even for a barn or a hut.
I turned my head and scanned the room, my eyes wide. Slowly, something I felt could only be surprise, shock, and dread began to descend.
What the heck?
Wattle and daub constructed walls. Open fireplace. Wooden furniture. Dirt floor.
Surely, I was dreaming, right? Because this looked nothing like a patient's room in a hospital. In fact, it looked more like the interior of a peasant's house in the medieval period.
The door opened, and I watched a woman, dressed in what appeared to be peasant's medieval-style clothing, walking in.
The moment she saw me gazing at her, she looked stunned. Then she rushed over, calling out, "Althea, Oh, Althea!" She came to sit on the side of the bed and cupped my face with hard, calloused hands, tears brewing in her eyes.
Who was this woman? Why did she look so worried about me? Why is she calling me Althea?
That intense headache came again, and I gritted my teeth. Suddenly, memories came flashing into my mind. I relaxed to process it all and my eyes widened in realisation.
I am Althea Vale, who clocked 18 few days ago, not Sienna Carter who lives in America in the 21st century and just got on a job at a five star restaurant and 26 yeses old. Living in a Kingdom called Bristol in a world known as Aritole.
What the fuck?
"Althea?" The woman's soft voice called out filled with worry. "How are you feeling, daughter, how is the pain?"
I looked at her. She looks so beautiful with her pale green eyes that resembles emeralds and her strawberry blonde hair. She had wrinkles, probably from overworking and stress but still beautiful and she is my mother.
"I thought it would have taken longer for you to wake up sweat heart. I'm sorry that happened to you." She said leaning to kiss me gently on my forehead.
That's right, what exactly happened to me, or rather the original Althea.
The woman, my mother, Jane moved back and said, "You must be thirsty and hungry, my dear. I'll prepare something for you."
I watched her fluffing about, looking relieved as tears continued to pour out of her eyes and flowed down her cheeks. While she was preparing what I could only ascertain was tea, I racked my brain once again as to how it was possible that I came to be here.
I flicked my gaze to Jane and involuntarily said, "Mother."
Damn! It was the Althea part of this body that was calling out to her, the part I couldn't seem to control.
Jane turned and smiled at me. She was still brewing tears, apparently.
"Did you want something?" She came over as she wiped tears from her face and, somehow and with a lot of pain on my part, she managed to sit me up and rest me back against the head of the bed. Then she brought around a cup of tea and began to aid me in drinking it.
It was a little bitter, though the temperature was a perfect warm. I began to half sip, half lick like a kitten as if my life depended on it. I was more dehydrated than I realized. I managed to finish the contents, and once I was done, Jane praised me for doing such a good job, like I was a toddler, and then returned to preparing what looks like bread and soup.
The bread was extremely hard, and the soup was bland but I had to eat it. My body needed it. I finished the food and Jane left me to sleep again,i did not argue, just laid on the hard bed and was out like a candle.