The Girl In The Ball dress

1. Centuries & markets

A/N: the picture above is how women in the 17th century dressed like, this will help you for reference.

Winter groans and spreads her legs on her bed, but they dangle on the side of the bed.
   Since when did her bed become small? she thought. Ignoring that, she snuggled on her pillow but only to find it hard instead of soft.
    Okay, this is weird! she thought. Still a bit lazy, she decided to stop complaining and sleep.

Until someone barge into her door, "Winter!"
The voice was laced with annoyance, sounded brash and had a deep British accent to it,
    "Get up and get some things in the market."

Wearily, Winter got up rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
    She trained her eyes on the woman in front of her. Surely that was not her mother,
This woman had dirty blonde hair and wore a long greyish blue dress an apron tied on her waist and she wore a cloth bonnet on her hair.

Yes she did look like her mother, but this woman looked a bit too skinny and strict. Like she suffered from World hunger. If that was a disease, Winter thought.

Again, her mother did not have a British accent. They came from Florida, Miami
"Er, do I know you?" Winter asked.

Her eyes where wide when she noticed the woman was holding a knife...
   "Who do you think I am to you? a flying cat? If you don't get up from that bed I swear to the King I'll cut off your neck and serve it for dinner!"

That alone got Winter alarmed.
   "Uh, miss." She said. "What century are we?"
She gestured to her awful dress. Maybe her mom was doing a costume party.

"How am I suppose to know that?" She sneered. "Get cleaned like a normal girl would, go to the market and buy me some things! we are already running late!

"But I don't know you!" She muttered. The woman shot her a dangerous glare and Winter remained quiet and as he passed by the woman, she was about to smack her but she missed in time. Having found the bathing room she bathed quickly, but goosebumps filled her body because of how unkept it was.

The way the woman dressed. The environment, The accent. It reminded her of the 17th century, she remembered her history teacher showed her and the class the lifestyle of the people in 17th century. Then it all clicked. She was in a different time line.

But how? Just yesterday she was eating pizza with her mom, now she was in the 17th century?
"Okay guys" she muttered nervously, "stop playing around! This is not funny! This is not funny..." Winter burst into tears

"Winter!" The woman who was supposedly her mother yelled.
She entered the room, "why haven't you changed?" She yelled. Until she noticed that she was crying.
Taking a seat by her, Winter wept in her arms,
"What's wrong dear?" Her mother asked in a softer tone.

"I—I—" Winter contemplated on telling her the truth. She couldn't risk it. The probability of her mother calling her a witch or a Mad girl was high. After all this was the 17th century. And she couldn't afford that. She had to somehow find out what happened to her and possibly go back to where she actually belonged.

"My head hurts." She lied.

Her mother sighed, "Don't worry dearly, it'll go. Hopefully, why don't you go to the market get some  cabbage, onions and tomatoes and stop by the baker's shop and get the cheapest cake you can find."

She added, "It's treat. You helped me a lot during this week you deserve it." Her mother smiled,

You don't understand! I'm not suppose to be here! This is not my era!
She bit her lip from saying that, "thanks."