Woodchoppers Secret

Chapter Three | Remember Not To Forget

1976

I dreamed of a friendly poltergeist. We were in the attic, sorting out old clothes and shoes for charity. She zoomed to a large pile and apparently was making a mess instead of doing what I'd asked her to do.

I laughed and explained to another person who was there, that this was just her being her, the ghost was actually trying to help. The ghost returned. She had been on her own mission of course. She had found a pretty dress, green with sparkles.

Though my eyes are open I can't think of why; my heart is pounding, mind empty. It is as if a hypodermic of adrenaline has been emptied into my carotid. I strain into the utter darkness, breathing rate beginning to steady. I turn my head, slightly to the side, noticing a bedside that was not mine. I shoot up from the bed, and fully aware of my surroundings.

A small room might I say, wooden walls, a comfortable bed, in front of me lay a white carpet, I continue looking but there was nothing else, two bedside tables on each side. And a long wardrobe against the wall. I look down and gasp as I see my lace brassiere out in the open. I pull the covers and cover my body as I slowly slide out of the bed, slamming the back of my head onto the wall. Forgetting how small the rooms was.

Where on earth was I?

That is a question needing to be answered. I look around, seeing no clothing. I take the chance and open the door revealing a bigger area. A living room with a kitchen beside it? Three couches, two opposite each other and another against the wooden walls, a carpet and a wooden coffee table laying on top. A fireplace was lit up, my breathing is suddenly becoming heavier.

The front door flings open, I do nothing and hide behind the one pillar as I take my head out to see what was happening. A man. A man-a beautiful man. Black beautiful curls, laying restlessly onto his forehead. Eyes, emerald. Nose, prominent. Beard, scruffy. Lips, plump. Though his body was absolutely amazingly figured. Not the fat type but built well, I could see it through his tight shirt. I could also see drawing all over his neck and chest, what were those?

He held a heavy bag as he drops it onto the kitchen counter, an Axe. My eyes widen as he looks up, scanning the area. He holds onto the Axe, slowly walking out of the kitchen counter, I rest my body against the pillar before a loud bang against my head alerts me as a small scream leaves my mouth. Immediately I feel my neck being grabbed as I was pushed against the pillar, my hands grab onto his wrist as he tightens his grip.

"Who are you?" When he speaks, his deep voice is magnetic to the core of who I am, as if he's able to resonate with all of me when others can barely achieve a fraction of it. I could not breathe; I tap gently onto his hand and he slowly loosens his grip before the axe was pushed against my neck instead.

"Anastasia, my name is Anastasia! Do not kill me." I whispered out with fear tangled along with my words. His emerald green eyes scan my face, clearly to see if I was lying or telling the truth.

"What are you doing in my home?" It was the kind of deep voice that is so very easy to fall in love with, that auditory caramel.

"I do not know how I got here! I promise, I woke up in a bedroom, I am just as confused as you." I am breathing heavily; my feet were lifting from the ground. He was tall, this man was tall. Big, towering over my small frame.

"Who knows you are here?"

"No one, I was in the woods one second and the next, I wake up here. I do not lie, I never lie! Please just remove the Axe." I whisper softly, the man sighs as he removes the Axe from my neck allowing me to breath before stepping a few steps backwards. I gasp as I notice I dropped the covers. I pick them up within a second and cover my body.

"Get out of my home." He growls out.

"No! No, I do not know where I am. I need to get back to the palace, do you know the way?" I ask softly, he raises an eyebrow.

"Are you part of the Royals?" He said in disgust, should I tell him? He clearly does not know who I am. What would be the harm of not telling him?

"No, I am a maid. Please tell me the way, is it morning? Oh dear." I whisper knowing my mother is going to kill me, the man continues analysing every aspect of me. He walks closer to me, lifting my chin with his finger. I gasp as the connection that jolted through my veins.

"You speak posh for a maid, too posh. Find your own way, and never come back into my house again, otherwise I wouldn't hesitate to kill you." He pushes my chin away and walks back to the kitchen counter, my cheeks; flaming red. I should be used to people being rude, my mother is one of them but a stranger I-do not know what to say.

I pick the covers and walk towards the front door, "leave the covers here," I look down at my half naked body, then back up at him sharpening his axe. I remove the covers from my body and suddenly feel more exposed than ever. "Get out Arabella."

"Anastasia-"

"I don't care, now leave."

"I apologise, thank you for not killing me-"

"Get out!" I nod my head as I pull the door open and make eye contact with him one more time before rushing out of the wooden home and back into the forest. Where on earth was I? I look around, scanning the trees as I begin walking to where ever I think the palace is.

I thought I had walk far enough, but I could still see his Cabin. I bite onto my bottom lip, roughly as feel tears wanting to wash out. Where am I? Where is the palace? I take one more step before pressing onto something that digs into my foots, I groan in pain as I pick my foot up only to fall backwards from my stupid balance.

My head collides with the ground, I gasp. Making friend with the floor, I lift my back and sit up as I bring my foot to my sight. Blood, leaking in all direction as a wooden slab was inside my foot. I suddenly feel the pain jolt into my veins as I bite onto my quivering lips.

"Leave my area now! Don't you understand English?"

"I apologise, I am leaving now." I say back, I tighten the covers around my body. Slowly lifting myself up as I fall back down from the pain injuring my foot. I feel two hands grasp underneath my arms and pull my up gently from the ground. I am in utter pain; it is a feeling of something biting me over and over again with sharp teeth. I feel under my knees being lifted as well, until I am carried in a bridal position by this man who wanted to get rid of me a few minutes ago. Was I not fat for him to carry? Was I not heavy? Nothing in his tanned face shows I am, but here I am getting a closer look.