Prologue
1926
Ria could hear them, the fear in their voice that mirrored in Tony’s eyes. He glanced at her every few seconds from where he sat playing in the grass, his toy train in hand and his imaginary friend, he always told Nana Ria about, by his side. He knew Nana wasn’t well, at least that’s what his mommy said, but he trusted his mother to fix it. Mom’s fixed everything.
Five. A carefree and pure age that Nana Ria could now only vaguely remember. Over a hundred years on the earth had been more than she had hoped for and filled with lots of lovely memories; a fulfilling life with a husband whom she bore three beautiful girls for. He had gone a few years earlier. “maggot food now” she would joke when the girls had gotten emotional. It had been a joke in poor taste but she refused to spend a second of her life crying, she still had three wonderful daughters to be thankful for.
They had grown into beautiful women themselves, married with children, and they took care of their old Nana. Wonderful memories indeed. But as she sat on her rocking chair on the patio, the only images she saw were ones she couldn’t quite explain. She saw herself, in her much younger days and in most certainly a different time, a different planet maybe. The clothing she wore was on heard of for a young lady unless she had been a Flapper; a mini skirt that left nothing to the imagination and bright colours with shoes that stood high on a base that could be used as a dagger. What would her late husband have done if he saw her without her multiple petticoats and in such derogatory manner?
It wasn’t her attire in these images that flashed before her eyes or the fact it was on some form of an unrealistic planet where buildings touched the sky and everything looked picturesque that bothered Ria; It was the events that took place.
It felt so real and every time she saw herself flash before her eyes she felt as if they had transported her to that image and she was living in a world she knew did not exist. And when she saw herself murdered she had felt as if she had in fact been the one crudely pierced with the vengeful dagger.
Seeing herself die was more than she could bear, she felt as if the blood had seeped from her own heart. That was the most dreadful feeling she thought. But that was until it happened again, but this time it wasn’t her. It was random people she didn’t know. She would see flashes of their lives’ and then feel the pain of their deaths.
Now she listened to her Children as they carried on about what they should do with their beloved mother who had gone mad. Though she couldn’t see them, she could hear the sobbing of her youngest from where they stood inside the house. She wanted to but couldn’t speak loud enough to call them so she continued to scribble on one of the many sheets of parchment paper she held in her hand. The ink and extra feathers sat on a small wooden table next to her. The table had a small drawer beneath it and as she finished writing on a sheet, she would fold it and seal it in an envelope before stuffing it in the drawer. Ria knew these letters were never to be read, but it was the only way to rid her mind of the images. So she wrote.
