2019

Boston, Massachusetts

The Coffee Shop  

   Another century, another guy who can't keep his tongue in his mouth. 

I hold back a laugh as Adam's drool forms a tiny puddle on the floor. He has that glazed, enchanted look in his eyes, one that many men have had centuries before. Arthur, Henri, Pierre, Louis, Christian, Mario, and now Adam.

 It's like I'm cursed. Or worse, bewitched. 

 Death has still failed to claim me, and relishes in my torture throughout these centuries. First it was 1803. Then 3500 BCE. A new life, a new new name, a new me. Anya, Mai, Louise, Kara, and now Liana.

My separate identities blurred until I became nobody at all. I was no longer Anne Hutcherson, faithful wife and dutiful lady. The truth is, I don't even know who I am anymore. Not a wife, not a victim, but someone else entirely.

A free woman.

I say goodbye to Adam and exit the coffee shop, trying in vain to stop my racing heart. The frigid Boston air penetrates my thin red coat and I press it closer to my short frame.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

I get turned around somewhere on Pitcher Street, trying in vain to find my old red-brick apartment. Jia really needs to be better with directions.

"Li! Hey, Li!" My roommate, Jia, comes running towards me, blue beanie pulled down over her black head, arms full with junk food in plastic bags. "You're home early."

"Yeah, my interview fell through." I plaster on a fake smile and dig the keys out of my pocket. Unlocking the door, I push it open and grab a few of Jia's bags. "But at least we can watch Legally Blonde all night and stuff our faces with ramen."

"My kind of night," Jia laughs and moves her bags to our kitchen. Setting them down on our brown barstools, she opens a bag and starts unpacking. "So, where were you?"

"The coffee shop." I sit on our lumpy red couch and turn on the TV, wincing as a sharp squeal emits from the six year old cable box.

I first met Jia after I died for what seemed like the millionth time. One minute, Mario was holding me in his arms, my wig was askew and my lungs were burning and the next minute, I wake up in the middle of a busy Boston street, right outside of this apartment.

Jia had run outside, noticing how the landlord nearly hit me with her car and shouted Mandarin at the lady until she got evicted. Ever since then, it's been me and Jia, bouncing from apartment to apartment in the Boston area. We stumbled across this red brick about three weeks ago, right within walking distance of Faneuil Hall and we've stayed ever since.

Jia is beautiful. That's what I thought when I first saw her anyway. Her eyes are a soft brown, her silky black hair falls in waves down her back whenever she takes it out of her traditional braid, and when she smiles, her eyes seem to glow, letting you know that she's a friend.

Which is probably why she has a new bedmate every night.

Our apartment has three bedrooms and thin walls so every night I can hear her and some other guy or girl. I just cover my ears with a pillow and sleep through it. 

After all, it is Jia's apartment. She's offered to convince one of her past hookups to come and show me "a good time" as she likes to put it, but I refuse. 

In my mind, I'm still married to William. Even after all the black eyes and bruises, the infidelity and betrayal, he was still the man I met in 1687, when I was just twenty-two and he was just forty-one.

"Anne Hutcherson, this is William Scott." My mother stands in front of me, proud as ever, a handsome middle aged man standing next to her. "William, this is my daughter, Anne."

"A pleasure." William bows, holding himself with grace. He looks at me and I redden. "My, Mrs. Hutcherson, you have certainly produced a beauty."

"Anne is a fine girl, and will make a good wife."  My insides curl at this statement but I say nothing. Say nothing, see nothing, do nothing. The Hutcherson motto. I needed a good husband, and this dinner at the Hutcherson cabin was a prime place for them.

So my mom invited all of the eligible bachelors in Salem, bathed and dressed me in my nicest dress. She was desperate to sell me off to the highest bidder and I was desperate to get out of her clutches. So I agreed to this dinner.

I never actually thought that I'd find my future husband there.

"Liana. Hey, you in there?" Jia stands in front of me, snapping her fingers in my face. 

"Oh...um...yeah. Yeah, I'm here." I shake my head, adjusting the sleeve of my brown sweater. "What were you saying?" The TV decided to turn on, blasting a show about zombies and I reach blindly for the remote, slamming my finger on the mute button.

"I was going to go to the bar tonight. Pick up some cocktails, maybe a couple of guys. You wanna join me?" She pleads, sticking her lower lip out in a pout. 

"I think I'm gonna stay here tonight. Maybe finally finish up the Harry Potter series." I smile weakly, hitting the power button on the TV. The screen goes black and I get up, stretching, feet sinking in to the fluffy black rug. 

"You haven't even started on the Harry Potter series. Seriously, it's like you have a vendetta against witches or something. Literally every American has seen all of the movies and read all of the books." 

I bristle inwardly at the thought. She couldn't be closer to the truth.

Ever since I've started waking up in the 21st century, the century of television and cell phones, the topic of witches have been my Achilles heel. I've never seen or read Harry Potter, I have had no interest in watching The Wizard of Oz-even after Jia introduced me to Judy Garland- and have never once listened to the Wicked soundtrack.

I just could never bring myself to overcome it.

Jia gets up, wrapping her arms around my stomach. "Promise me you'll stay out of trouble?"

"Always." I pat her hand and she slides away from me, going to throw on rouge and another dress that shows her buttcheeks if she slides her hands up high enough. 

I walk towards my room, grabbing a frayed copy of Pride and Prejudice off my desk. Flopping onto my paisley colored bed, I open the book and begin to dive into the world of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.

I suddenly think back to the man from the coffee shop. 

I wonder what he's doing.

𝒮𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓂 𝐹𝒶𝒸𝓉 #𝟦: 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝒹𝑜𝑔𝓈 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝓊𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓁𝓁𝓈