Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my immortal beloved. Be calm – love me today, yesterday, what tearful longings for you. You, you my life, my all farewell. Oh, continue to love me, never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved. Ever thine. Ever mine. Ever ours." – Immortal Beloved by Ludwig van Beethoven.

Poetry and music, money and charity, intelligence and common sense, dance and society, beauty and bravery. That was what everyone would describe her.

To what extent can a man write such powerful words and feel something as such?

On a cold night, in a calm and quaint coffee shop that she always came for the delicious Viennese coffee, Arabella had closed the book that she was reading about an autobiography of Beethoven. Music had been a side passion of hers while reading was the first, often the victim of light teasing between her family and friends.

But whenever did she deem what they say as important?

Music, reading, and business were her only joys in life. Her beloved composers would question where could her passion be for many emotions, especially love. Whether fortunate or unfortunate, however, one may interpret it, she had remained single for the last twenty or, so years and Arabella wanted it to remain so until she was ready to find someone in the world.

The night was always the time Arabella left the coffee shop, but the season had changed her mind due to the cold weather. She had meant to leave earlier that day, but the book in her hand had taken her far away from reality, something quite common in her daily life. Walking home, headphones in her ears and pressed play to hear some of Schubert's many symphonies.

The loud volume was able to drown all of the sounds of the busy city, but the young woman was always careful.

Well, she usually was.

As quick as it could come, her vision became blurry with the last thing she saw was the sky crying frozen tears.

'What a way to die.'

The next time she woke up, she was in a room as she was seated in a chair of great comfort and in front of her were papers, bottles of ink and even pens. To her sides, she had books surrounding her and the scent of it all made her smile despite it being so unfamiliar. If this was her kind of heaven, then she had come to terms with her death faster than anyone else could have.

"Arabella!" A voice sounded from down the halls and was startled by the door opening, revealing a very beautiful woman around her possible height. She was blonde and fair skinned, quite a lovely girl with an even lovely dress that seemed quite plain, but nonetheless suited the girl. Following the girl were… four more?

"Arabella, you promised us that you'd help us buy ribbons!" The liveliest of the five exclaimed behind her sister with a book in her hand. Arabella stood up and looked down to realize that she was dressed in male attire, much different than those that she was used to. It felt like being bound to something. She looked towards the girls, adjusting her waistcoat and walked over to the coat hanger near the door and proceeded to put it on.

"If that is what you wish. And what else would the ladies wish?" She said, careful with her words.

"Oh sister, nothing more than just a walk. You're past due needed sunlight."

For three years, so it seemed, she had adjusted towards this new life, all seeming like a blur – a traumatic experience that had to be forgotten. Arabella never even shared her experience with none of her newfound sisters. In this new life, she was the eldest daughter of the Bennett family, but there were circumstances that surrounded Arabella. She had five sisters in total with a father and mother. Being twenty-five this year, she had responsibilities as the older sister with Jane following along, next came witty Elizabeth or Lizzie, then Mary and finally, Lydia and Kitty.

Arabella was a student of Cambridge apparently, with the money Mr. Bennett had generously sent her off to school. Normally, men were the ones to go to school, but Arabella was special in this century.

She was raised as a boy.

She had no memory of anything prior to her awakening in the study room and her new family didn't seem to think about it much for they were very eager to spend time with each other. Mr. Bennett was a man that much preferred books and hid away in his study and out of the way of the six women of the household. Mrs. Bennett was outspoken and thinking the best for her daughters if marrying well to rich husbands is what's best. Jane was the household beauty, a humble girl who could say no wrong about anyone. Elizabeth was witty and intelligent, and one of the two people Arabella could hold a conversation with. Mary was her beloved music lover, a gifted pianist and the wallflower of the family. Lydia was lively and didn't shy away from flirting with a man in uniform and Kitty followed her footsteps.

Arabella is Arthur Bennett to the social circles in Longbourn; her name mentioned in the dearest of ways. Arthur Bennett is the handsomest bachelor in all of Longbourn, intelligent, kind, and the epitome of what women want in a husband. But the problem was that she was born a woman and only those in the household know. This was done, at first, without a say for her, but she learned to accept it straight out of duty to have a roof over her family's heads if Mr. Bennett were to perish from the world.

Her green eyes watched over the gardens of her little home, in taking the clean fresh air of the English countryside. There were pros and cons to this new lifestyle and much preferred the easiness of it all to relax and leave the troubles of the modern world that she knew to the grave.

"I thought I'd find you here," Elizabeth said, walking into the garden and smiling at Arabella.

"Where else would I be? The air is fresh, and the breeze is cool today. I'd say it'd be good for a lovely picnic outside." Elizabeth smiled and sat down next to her elder sister, wrapping her arms around her and looked at the same place Arabella was.

"A picnic? What has gotten into you, dearest brother? Are you spoiling your sisters again?"

"Is it wrong for a loving brother to spoil his younger sisters? I think not." It was about the gifts from earlier when she returned from her trip to London.

I seemed to have died in the year 2017 when I was only 22 years old. Now twenty-five, I live as the oldest sister to the Bennett family, but with an alias under the name Arthur Bennett. There's nothing to worry for me if I live prosperously as a gentleman of this era, to which I embrace the duty wholeheartedly as the one who will support my new-found sisters if my father were to perish, god forbid.

The year is 1811. Sadly, I wasn't thrown into the era of my choosing since I could gossip about Schubert, Strauss and the Waltz. Rules are different here and much more pleasant. This journal, I keep secret from my current family and share my deepest thoughts to which I think of as my one true friend in the entire universe. This journal helps me become Arabella Dornez once more, even if she does not exist yet, I am Arabella Dornez.

To this era, I am Arabella Bennett. I am Arthur Bennett.

This is my story.

After that was done, she retreated to her quaint garden, where Lizzie and Arabella are at now, watching the wind blow.

As they were going inside, they heard their mother call out.

"Have you heard? Netherfield is let at last!"

Oh boy.