Princess Claudette

Claudette tried to steady her breathing as she shuffled down the mansion’s dimly lit hallways. The air felt like icy treacle as it made its way into her lungs. The atmosphere had changed so suddenly it almost made her jump. Yet Claudette had a vague memory, buried deep in her subconscious, of this happening before.

All the doors looked the same: closed and unwelcoming. All, that was, apart from one that stood ajar, enticing her in. Perhaps it was from here that the echo came: the sound that woke Claudette from sleep.

Palm on the door, ready to push, Claudette looked back down the hallway, longing to be in bed once more. Shaking her head, telling herself it was nothing, she eased the door open. The room was half-lit by light flowing through large windows.

A library of old, dusty books lay before her with shadows descending from the walls. Merely a falling book, thought Claudette as she turned to leave. But she froze as movement caught her eye. The rocking chair in the corner was rocking gently.

As she edged closer, a young woman popped her head up from behind the chair’s back.

“Looky, Claudette has come back to play!”

“W-w-wh-“ Claudette tried to speak while backing away. The woman was pale, as if she’d been there for decades.

“Oh, I hoped! I’ve waited for you!”

“Why? Who are you?”

“Don’t you recognise me? We used to be the best of friends…”

“Err… when?” the nausea Claudette now felt threatened to take hold.

“For over a hundred years! We even died together! But you left me; you promised you’d never leave! Welcome home Princess Claudette! Welcome home!”

"I'm not dead! How can I..." her voice trailed off as her eyes fell upon a very old picture.




Word Count: 297
Written for: "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Write a story that includes the line: "Don't you recognize me?"