"On the wind,
Cross the sea.
Hear this song and remember.
Soon you'll be,
Home with me.
Once upon a December. "
( Anastasia's Lullaby; Anastasia (1997) )
Brooklyn, NY.
1:27 AM
Friday
April 6th
1934
A clap of thunder rumbled over the city of Brooklyn, NY.
Temporarily illuminating the city in a shade of violet. An aftershock of the light show flickered in the sky. Revealing threatening clouds above.
Murky waves furiously licked the jagged rocks along the shoreline. Reeling back once more only to crash themselves once more into the rocks. The wind let out an ear-splitting howl. Shredding the air. Raindrops pricked the Earth like little daggers. Sending ripples across the waves.
The city was as dead as a doornail. Signs to shops flapped in the wind. On the verge of breaking off their hinges. Light bulbs to streetlights struggled to stay on against the harsh weather. Buzzing in a series of flickers. Water cascaded down city street drains. Rain puddles formed in small holes on the street. Overflowing into miniature pools. Any drying laundry left on clothing lines between buildings danced in the wind. The weight of the rainwater dipped the thin clothing line.
As the storm relentlessly drenched the city, along the shoreline, the waves once more peeled back from the rocks.
This time.. they were not empty-handed.
The waves peeled back once more, revealing the sea's offering.
A small, rather petite in stature figure lay on her stomach. One arm outstretched in an attempt to grasp onto anything to give her enough leverage. The other is at her side. Lighting cracked the sky once more. Illuminating her soaked body. Her long, cotton t-shirt nightgown clung to her body. Outlining every small curve of her. Sporting a decent collection of scrapes and bruises. A mixture of algae, sand, and mud on her limbs in streaks. Some of it caked in her deep, cherry wine hair. The figure was out cold. A gash bled out from her forehead. Peeking out from her hairline. Caking against her skin.
It wasn't until another wave heaved her up-words. Forcing a rock to push itself against her stomach. Causing her eyes to shoot open. The young woman began to furiously cough up water. Her throat felt like it was on fire. Her nostrils leaked a mixture of mucus and seawater. The salt from the seawater burned her pupils. Her wet eyelashes blurred her vision. An unpleasant greeting of pain ignited throughout her body in a wildfire. A sharp stinging on her forehead as the air licked her. Crawling against the jagged rocks on all fours she felt her knees scrape against the rough surface. The redhead continued her heaving. Her body rose and fell as she struggled to empty her lungs. After a moment her heaving subsided into pants. Cool air entered her lungs. Easing the burning sensation in her throat. Her heart thumped in her chest.
Carefully she climbed to her feet, using her hands to push herself upwards. Her bare feet scraping against the slick rocks. Stumbling for a moment to even her balance. The area was too dark to precisely tell where she was. She could only make out rocks. Distant looming figures towering over her. Her eyebrows knitted together. Shock and confusion left her in a stunned stand-still.
The world went silent for what felt like an eternity.
The only thing her ears picked up on was her thumping heart against her chest.
Turning slowly, she stared in horror at the endless sea of waves behind her. Lighting grazed the horizon with a loud clap of thunder.
Lighting up the sharp waves.
The dark shadows of each wave inhaling and exhaling made everything look more ominous. Shadowing the waves was a familiar sight she had only seen in pictures and on screens.
Its wired arches grazed the clouds. Swooping down in a bow to meet the other arch. Its grandiose appearance made the trembling young woman let out an exhale of surprise.
The Brooklyn Bridge.
She was staring at a much older version of the infamous bridge of New York.
She had done it again.
She went backwards.