People feel many kinds of emotions. Depending on which one of those, were always accompanied by expressions you could see on their faces. Uplifted cheeks. A mouth spread into a grin. Eyes wrinkled. Lips pursed. A distorted face. You could tell if they were happy, sad, or scared.

For a person, feelings are sometimes caused by what they see and know. Or by what they do not see and know.

And a feeling by what they called Fear was inevitable for the unknown. Such as death.

Death is always a mystery to the living. A mystery and sign of no turning back as those who died can never get up and talk again. It is a time where the living mourns in grief, a time where the person is finally on his last moments and his breathing numbered.

This is what I, Athenilda Sawyer, do understand about death as the void and emptiness consumed me.

 

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Athenilda felt very comfortable, as if she just had a long good sleep.

…Is this what if feels like to be dead? I wondered.

“…up…”

Somehow I felt like someone was calling me.

“Hey…you…up”

It repeated again, this time feeling very real.

“Hey Ida! Wake up already, sleepyhead!” someone shouted near my ear.

My eyes opened and I blinked blearily.

I glanced at the side and saw my brother standing beside me, wearing an irritated expression.

I blinked several times.

“Get up already, lazybones. Mother said that today we will be very busy.” Her brother grumbled as he left her room.

What…? What’s happening?

 I should’ve died during an earthquake.

Then, is this the afterlife? Am I already to where my family are?

I pinched myself and felt it sting. This felt so real. Felt that I’m really alive.

What’s going on? I felt so very confused and lost.

“Ida!” my brother’s voice called loudly.

“Yes, I’ll be right there!” I replied as I got out of bed and saw that I’m wearing a sleeping dress. I look around and saw the wardrobe at a corner and went to open it and looked over the available clothes. I mostly saw shirts, tunics, overalls, leggings and pants that seem to be worn several times already.

I picked up a plain brown shirt and a faded blue overall to change into. Draping the night dress on the chair that was tucked away at the corner of the room, I passed by a mirror that was attached to the wall beside the wardrobe.

I froze up as I saw the person reflected on the mirror.

I studied the figure, carefully lifting up my hands and touched my face. The person reflected in the mirror also touched her face. I blinked my eyes a couple of times. The other person also did the same. I pointed at the figure on the mirror. The person also pointed towards me.

A hand covered my mouth as I gasped in surprised.

It was really her.

Her in younger and teenage years.

Is this even possible? I’ve returned back in time?

So many questions had filled up my mind. Why? How? What does this mean? No matter how I rummage the information and knowledge that I have, I cannot fathom any plausible answers or explanations for this occurrence. A sense of fear and frustration is swelling up inside me. What is happening here?

Hearing my brother shouting my name once again, I took a deep breath and decided to temporarily put my questions aside and tackle what’s presently in front of me.

This is really disconcerting. But let’s just observe for the meantime and try not to panic. I decided as I left the room.

 

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“Finally, the lazybones had come down.” My older brother, Rick, jested as I joined them at the table filled with food for breakfast.

“Now now, Rick. Don’t tease your sister too much.” Said Ronald Sawyer, our father.

“Okay, settle now you all. Let’s have breakfast. Today’s a busy day.” Urged by their mother, Theresa Sawyer.

Rick harrumphed and squinted at Athenilda before scarfing down the eggs at his plate. She watched and observed her family as they were busily eating.

It’s been so long since I had a meal with them. I belatedly realized how much I missed them all. Without thinking, I gave a quick hug to my brother, who almost choke at the sudden action and hastily grabbed his mug to drink.

I went to my parents and gave them both a quick squeeze and peck on the cheek, which greatly surprised them.

“W-what’s wrong you?” Rick sputtered as he gave me a wary look.

“My sweet child, what’s the matter?” Father asked as he pat my head tenderly.

“It’s nothing. I just feel like I haven’t really shown how much I’m thankful that I’m part of this family.” I replied, acting cute and sweet.   

“Mother, it seems that there’s something weird in your cooking today. Look at Ida, she’s being creepy.” Rick remarked at their mother, which earned him a smack on the arm.

“Ouch!” he cried.

“You little rascal. If you have a problem with my cooking then don’t eat.” Their mother glared at him.

“Who says that? Mother’s cooking is always the best.” Rick hastily appeased our mother. I just rolled my eyes at him as I went back to my seat beside him. I began eating my portion.

“After breakfast, don’t forget to feed our chickens and goats and clean their den. Your father and I will go to our fields this morning to prepare for planting.” Their mother brought up and listed today’s agenda.

“Ida, you and your brother decide which of you would tend the chickens and the goats. After that come back here and assist in the preparations. The festival is around the corner, so we’ll be busy starting today.” Their mother continued.

“Understood, mother. But…what festival?” I hesitantly ask. Ever since waking up, I haven’t figured out which time period I was. What I only guess from my reflection in the mirror is that my body looked to be in teenage years. Maybe I could try to gather some useful clues right now.

“Have you become silly? How could you forget the Vitellus Festival will be a week from now?” my brother looked at me incredulously.

“Oh, is that s-so? It just slipped my mind for a moment.” I clumsily excused, scratching my head a bit. Vitellus Festival. So it must be spring season at this time.

But… what year is it now? Or how can I figure out how old am I? I pondered, absorbing the new piece of information.

Rick peered at me for a while, then remarked, “We just had talked about the festival last night. You’re being really weird today, sister.”

 I remained silent and just pouted at him, unable to come up a convincing answer.

“Are you perhaps…” he began.

“I am perhaps…?” I repeated at him carefully, waiting what he was about to say.

“Are you perhaps… trying to escape your share of chores and letting me the only one to do it? Never! You cannot fool this older brother of yours!” He said while slapping a hand on the table, his expression as if he finally realized he was being tricked.

I just looked at my brother silently. Then I pinched his cheeks.

He’s really my jester of a brother. This is too much convincing that I have returned back in time.

Since he’s no longer with them during the time she had gotten married.