\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/464877-Escape-from-Reality
Item Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #464877
What happens when a young girl from Camelot wakes up in the 21st century?
Escape from Reality

Not a day goes by that I, Madyline Holt, do not see my father’s portrait hanging above my family’s stone mantelpiece, never wonder who he is, that proud man who stands wearing a face filled with untold secrets and hidden pasts. Oftentimes I find myself staring into that face, into those piercing blue eyes… the same blue eyes that I myself possess. The only detail that makes me certain that he is indeed my father. But, I suppose I will never know for sure, because there was never a time I knew him. His existence to me is only through a picture.
It is the age of Arthur, 542 A.D. I have been awake for quite some time, having been contemplating a dream I’ve experienced for the third night consecutively. Sitting under a large birch tree, I close my eyes to obtain the images I’d quickly forgotten as soon as I set my feet on the cold wooden floor of my room. However, the dream soon reappears to me. I find that I am, upon opening my eyes, looking into a place that is strange and unfamiliar. I am in a room, not my own, containing peculiar objects that I cannot begin to describe; a large black box on the wall in front of me made of a strange material. A faintly familiar woman is leaning over me with a gleam of hope in her tear-filled eyes. I want to ask her where I am, why she seems so sad, but I cannot move my lips, and the room slowly fades and I am left in blackness.
I quickly open my eyes to reassure myself that I am still here, in my world. A quiet neigh sounding in my ears tells me that, indeed, I am back. I smile and walk over to stroke the neck of my precious chestnut-colored colt, King. He blows air out of his nostrils and I laugh. “‘Tis too early for you, is it? Well then, you just march yourself right back into the stable, your Majesty.” King snorts again and shakes his mane. “’Tis your choice,” I add, but I’m smiling anyway. “Now, what doest thou say to a nice morning trot? I think ‘twill wake us both.”
I lead King into the stable and saddle him up. Then I open the gate and swing myself onto his back, clicking my tongue and lightly pressing my heels into his sides. After this, I relax and admire the beauty of my home, a vast land of color and life. I lead King down a small path in the woods and decide to head into town. It’s not a long ride, and when I arrive in the bustling marketplace just inside, I slide off King’s back and walk alongside him.
“Maddy! Madyline Holt!” someone cries, and I look around hastily. I find Ana Rochester, my auburn-haired, green-eyed, freckled best friend standing on the other side of the street. She is waving a piece of paper in the air, and is saying something but I cannot hear her. She begins to race forward but I lose her within seconds in the large crowd.
“You will not believe what I have in my possession, Maddy!”
“Anastasia Rochester!” I cry, turning to Ana, who is now standing directly to my left. She is inches away from me. “Don’t ever do that to me again!”
Ana scrunches up her face into a hideous grimace. “Really, Maddy, must you say that in public?” She shudders and whispers, “It’s rather embarrassing.”
“Dreadfully sorry,” I reply, rolling my eyes. I curiously peer down at her hands. “Now, what do you have in your possession that I wouldn’t believe?” Ana hands me the paper and I immediately notice the King’s crest on the front of what looks to be an invitation. As I read, Ana looks at me with interest. I gape at her with excitement and envy. “How in the world did you get an invitation to King Arthur’s annual ball!”
“Ssh! Calm down, Madyline! Really.” She looks at me as a mother would look at an untamed child.
“Well, I want to know!”
“Come on, Maddy, you can’t tell me that you don’t think I could go!”
“You’ve never gone before!” I reply.
“I’ve never been sixteen before, Maddy.”
“That and your father has never been at the round table before.”
She glares at me. “I’ll have you know, the reason I’m going has nothing to do with my father being first in command—“
“You mean fourth in command,” I mutter.
“Well, whichever it is—it is completely irrelevant to this. I’m going because I am charming, sophisticated, well known around Camelot—“
“And rich,” I add, hiding a smirk that threatens to appear on my face.
“Humph!” Ana folds her arms across her chest. “You needn’t be so snippy. I was going to let you help me dress… I thought it would be fun!”
“But, Ana, I don’t know the first thing about—“
Ana cuts me off, eyes gleaming. “Not another word! You will help me dress in the fortnight. And that is that.” With that she waves and walks out of site.
I sigh. “Come on, King, let’s go home.” I mount him and turn towards the woods to the east of the town, and signal for King to begin a quick trot. It takes only minutes to enter the large field of the Holt estate, and I smile, momentarily forgetting about the day’s previous affairs.
After putting King back into the stable, I slowly head toward my welcoming home. However, instead of going inside, I curl up on the small wooden chair sitting in the corner of the house’s porch and stare off into space.
My mother peers out from the doorway and sees me sitting there. “Madyline, is that you?” she asks.
“Yes, Mama.” I continue to stare at the fading sun. I hope she doesn’t note the quiet melancholy in my voice.
“Well, don’t stay out here too long. It’s beginning to grow cold.” She then turns to go inside. “Oh, and dinner will be on soon.”
I nod. Then, after hearing the click of the door being positioned back into place, I sigh. I am still thinking about Ana. I know it won’t happen, I say to myself, but oh how I’d love to go to that ball…
Suddenly a light breeze wafts through the air and I notice a small flash of white appear from the door. I walk over and carefully pull it from the place on the ground where it had fallen, and look at it curiously, then with much interest. “Why… it’s an invitation! There must be some mistake!” But there was no mistake. I notice my name clearly printed in fancy writing directly under the king’s crest.
“Mama, Mama!” I cry, thrusting the door open and stepping inside. “You won’t believe what I’ve received!” I pick up my skirt and race into the house just as the sun disappears over the horizon.

~*~*~*~

The time that must pass before the day of the ball comes and goes quickly. Now it is the night of the event and I am nervously playing with the lace on my new silky, royal blue gown. I sit down in front of my mother’s vanity as she fixes my hair and puts rouge on my cheeks and lips. When I look into the mirror, I can’t recognize the young lady staring back at me. My golden blonde hair is pulled back away from my face in a bundle of curls, held by a blue ribbon to match my gown. I turn this way and that, and finally smile with satisfaction.
“You look beautiful,” Mama says, wiping her eyes and hugging me.
“Thank you,” I reply.
The stagecoach then arrives. I grab my invitation and hold it close to me, afraid of dropping it and losing it. I walk outside and see Ana poke her head out of the window and cry, “Come now, Maddy! You don’t want us to be late, do you?”
Clumsily, I step up into the coach and say timidly, “I think it is going to take me a while to get used to this.” Ana laughs and I join her. We chatter like little girls all the way to the gates of Camelot, but once we enter, we are struck with fascination and can say no more. As we enter the castle, Ana’s eyes are fixated on the rich adornment inside, while I find myself gazing at all the people that are in view.
“I wonder when we’ll get to see King Arthur,” Ana whispers, and I can only shrug my shoulders.
Gathering all the courage I can muster, I hold onto Ana and head into the crowd of individuals and toward the side when suddenly there is a tap on my shoulder. I turn and see a young, attractive man smiling at me. He is massive next to my 5’6” physique, with serious gray eyes and reddish-blonde hair. The man bows slightly. “Collin Vencor, m’lady” he states, looking briefly at Ana before resting his gaze on me.
Blushing fiercely, I say, “This is Ana Rochester,” she smiles as I add, “and I am Madyline Holt.”
Collin smiles at me. “A name that is almost as beautiful as the lady who owns it. Would you care to dance?”
I am stunned and look to Ana for guidance. She smiles coyly and nods, whispering, “Go on,” and motioning me away. Collin takes my hand and leads me into a crowd of dancing couples. When the song finishes we stop and I let my hands drop to my sides.
I look at Collin for a moment, then slowly say, “You remind me of someone… I don’t know who, but I know that you seem very familiar to me.” I look down, feeling rather ridiculous, but Collin tilts my chin back up, so I’m looking into his eyes.
“Would it make it any better to say that I feel the same?” His eyes twinkle, and I smile, feeling better. We dance to another song, and then sit down over in the corner to rest. We make friendly conversation until we run out of things to say. Suddenly he brushes his lips against mine, and then pulls away again, blushing. I am too, I’m sure, but I smile at him. He smiles back and lowers his head toward mine. Unfortunately, but also fortunately, since I am slightly nervous, the music stops as a trumpet sounds.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a short man holding the trumpet cries out, “King Arthur!” The room erupts into applause as a man with a beard and a majestic look to his expression walks into the room and sits at his throne. He seems kindly, despite the crown on his head and his serious disposition as he speaks, but I can’t look at him for long, for as I stand there, I notice a man wearing armor to the left of King Arthur’s throne, and my gaze falls on him. Something about him is familiar, but the shadow falling in his face from his helmet blocks my view and I find myself inching closer. My heart begins to pound as I see his face, and Arthur is interrupted as I cry out, “Daddy! Daddy, is that you?!”
The man looks up, startled when he sees my face. I try to call out once more, but the room begins to spin and I feel weak as my world fades into darkness.

~*~*~*~

Daddy… daddy… is that you? Daddy… My own voice echoes inside my head, and I groan, opening my eyes very slowly. I hear someone gasp and footsteps sound, heading away from me. “Rebecca, Rebecca, come quickly! She’s waking up!”
Rebecca? I wonder. What is Mama doing at the castle? I look around, trying to make the blurry images focus, but when they do I scream.
A woman with golden blonde hair and sea green eyes, who I believe to be Rebecca, comes running into the room and over to the bed. She is with a short, plump woman with black hair that is pulled back from her face. She is wearing a white uniform and a white cap. I begin to shake. Rebecca leans over and tries to hug me. I scream and push her away. Then I curl up and hug my knees to my chest. I close my eyes.
“Maddy! Maddy? Don’t you know where you are?” she asks.
How does she know who I am? “No, I don’t know where I am!! Who are you! How do you know my name!” I cry out.
“Oh no,” the other woman says quietly, turning to look at Rebecca. “I think she has amnesia.”
Rebecca looks worried but does not let it affect her. “You just need some rest. That’s all. And the doctor. You’ve been out for…” She pauses, looking down. I stare at her, frightened. But she looks up again, and smiles slightly with tears in her eyes. “I just can’t believe you’re awake.”
“I’m not awake! I’m dreaming!” I reply. Yes, that’s it. I’m dreaming. I become angry. “Go away! Just go away and leave me alone!”
Rebecca looks shocked. Then she nods and stands up, heading to leave the room without a word. Before she exits, she stops the other lady and says, “Nurse, please inform Dr. Vencor that she’s awake.” The nurse nods and disappears in front of her.
When I am sure that I’m alone, I lay there, trying to figure things out. With shaking limbs, I place my feet on the floor, startled by the cold metal feel of it. I jump back onto the bed and peer down at a shiny white floor. Curiously, I place my feet back onto it and stand up. Then I begin to walk. It feels very uncomfortable, and I find my knees begin to shake, so I grab onto a tall metal beam with a gleaming light on top of it, and pause. Slowly, holding onto anything I can get my hands on, I begin walking around the room, looking at things. I see a big black box near the bedside on the wall, the one in my previous dreams, and after pushing a few buttons, it comes alive. I am frightened and push the button again. It stops. Relieved, I head toward the dresser. I see a sculpture of a proud horse reared onto its hind legs. I recognize him immediately. “King,” I say wistfully, tracing the line of his back. Next to the horse is a doll, wearing a dress with auburn hair, green eyes, and freckles. A small piece of paper is next to it. I pick it up. “Certificate of authenticity. Anastasia Rochester…” I look at it thoughtfully and place it back to where it was found.
As I look at the walls, I see pictures of the things I know; of my home. There is a picture of Camelot, and as I turn, I see my father’s portrait hanging on the wall as well. I run over to it. “Daddy…” Tears come to my eyes as I remember last night, the ball, seeing him. Yet also not seeing him. “I know; I saw you,” I murmur. “I know you were there.” I look at the bottom of the portrait. “Sir Galahad Holt. Why didn’t you ever come home? You knew you had a family… why didn’t you come home!” I throw myself onto the bed and sob into the pillows. It takes me a few moments to regain my composure, but I do, and I wander around the room some more. I look in a tall mirror on the back of the door. I am not who I was. Curiously, I touch my hair, which is only to my shoulders. My face is pale and tired looking. I have dark circles under my eyes. I am not Madyline Holt.
I walk out into the hallway, only to be stopped by Rebecca, who is walking towards my room.
“Maddy!” Rebecca cries, grabbing me to keep me from falling. “You shouldn’t be out of bed!”
I stare at her. “I want answers. Firstly, where am I?”
Rebecca pauses, then ushers me into the room. Then she closes the door. “Maddy, you’re at the hospital.”
“The hospital?” I ask. “What is that?”
“It’s a place you go to when you’re sick.”
I look at her curiously and say, “But I’m not sick. I just fainted because I was startled, ‘tis all. I was at the castle and—”
Rebecca shakes her head and cuts me off. “What castle? You never fainted, Maddy. You… oh never mind. The doctor would do better to explain that me.”
I am hardly listening. “This is nothing like where I’m from. Did they take me somewhere out of Camelot?”
“Camelot? No, Maddy, this isn’t Camelot. You could never have been there, honey. It existed a long time ago. Long before you were even born.”
“Well of course I’ve been to Camelot!” I say exasperatedly. “I was born there in the year 526.”
“Maddy!” She looks at me as if I were dillusional. “You were born here on March 18, 1984.”
1984! “What year is it now?”
She pauses. “It’s the year 2000.”
I almost fall backwards, but regain my balance. “2000! But, but… No! It’s 542!! It’s the sixth century!!” My face is red, my breathing is heavy, and I continually clench and unclench my fists. I feel faint. She jumps up quickly and leads me to the bed, sitting me down gently. I pause momentarily.
“Maddy, I—I really don’t know what you’re talking about…” Rebecca lowers her eyes. “You… you don’t remember…”
“What is there to remember?” I ask. “This is all just a very real dream. That’s all. A dream.” I am saying this more to convince myself than to convince her.
She says to me, “I’m going to get Doctor Vencor. I do think he can explain everything much better than I can.”
I ask, “Who is this Doctor Vencor person?”
“He’s the doctor who has been treating you while you were in a coma,” she replies, thinking of the right words to use.
“But…” I shake my head. “A coma? I’d only fainted.”
“I’m going to get Doctor Vencor,” she repeats, leaving me alone once again. Soon, however, another woman wearing the white outfit comes into my room, and she leads me into another room down the hallway. A man is sitting in a large chair facing away from me. Rebecca, who is waiting at the door, rests her hands on my shoulders and lets me know that she is going to be right outside if I need her. I assure her that I won’t. I walk into the room and they shut the door behind me. The man turns around, looking at papers in his lap. I gasp. The man looks exactly like King Arthur!
I blush. “Your Majesty…” I curtsy and the man looks startled.
“I, I beg your pardon, miss, but I’m not royalty, I assure you.” There’s a twinkle in his eyes, and I think he’s laughing at me.
“But—you look exactly like him!” I pause. “Then you aren’t King Arthur?”
He shakes his head. “No, King Arthur’s been dead for over a thousand years. In fact,” he adds, leaning forward, “some people believe that he never existed.”
“Oh, but he did! I mean, he does! I know he does, I’m from there… I mean, I don’t know how I got here, but I belong there, and—oh, what’s the use!” I cry out, slumping in my chair. “No one believes me, anyway.”
The doctor ignores me and continues staring at the papers in his lap. After a moment he looks up. “I’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.” I shake my head. “Okay then… Where do you live?”
“On the outer reaches of Camelot, sir.”
He raises his eyebrows and writes something down using a strange looking quill pen, without a feather. “And what year is it?”
“’Tis 542 AD, sir, naturally.”
He writes more. “And what is your name?”
“Madyline Elizabeth Ann Holt.”
“Who is your mother?”
“Rebecca Margaret Holt, sir. Her maiden name is McAllen.”
“And your father?”
“I… It’s Galahad Holt, sir… but…”
“Go on, child,” Dr. Vencor says after my momentary pause, and I nod.
“I never knew him. We have a picture hanging above our mantelpiece in the parlor. That’s all I have to know him by. That and his name.”
“I see,” he says quietly. “Anything else you can add?”
“Well, I have a horse, a thoroughbred colt with chestnut colored hair and a black mane and tail named King. My best friend is Anastasia Rochester, but everyone calls her Ana. She has auburn hair, green eyes and freckles. And there’s Collin…”
“Who is Collin?” Dr. Vencor intercedes, looking curious.
“He is… well, that is, I was at a ball at King Arthur’s castle, and he came over to talk to me, and we danced, and talked and…” I blush. Then I add, “Well, I did not know him well.”
Dr. Vencor nods. I begin to feel uncomfortable in the silence. He stands up then and walks over to the door, opens it, and motions for Rebecca to join me. After they are situated he begins. “We need to talk about the fire, Mrs. Holt.” She nods seriously.
“What fire?” I ask incredulously.
“There was a fire, Maddy,” Rebecca starts, “two years ago. You and your father were at home, while your Aunt and I were coming home from doing some errands. We came home to the house in flames.” She pauses to wipe the tears from her eyes. “There were fire trucks everywhere, we could barely get close enough to find out what was going on. Apparently the fire was caused by faulty wiring. You were lucky to have made it out alive, but you had gone into a coma when we arrived at the hospital. Your father… your father, however, didn’t.”
“What?” I ask, but can barely make the words escape my lips. “My father—my father was killed in a fire?” I shake my head. “But that can’t be… I never knew my father… He was gone since I was born… No! I won’t believe it!”
“You have to, Maddy, it’s the truth. He risked his life trying to save you. He loved you so very much…” Rebecca tries to stroke my hair but I pull away. She sighs. “Among the other things saved, her favorite doll, a porcelain doll with red hair, freckles, and green eyes with the name Anastasia was one. I remember Maddy always called her Ana…” I gasp, but no one hears me. “There was also a small sculptured horse she called King.” She looked at me. “See, Maddy? You never had a real horse… just a toy one.” I glare at the floor, refusing to believe what she is saying. “I tried to restore everything else, luckily I was able to replace her favorite poster, the one of King Arthur’s knight, Galahad Holt. I think one reason she always liked it was because he reminded her of her father, Garret, because they looked alike and he had our last name.” I widened my eyes considerably, and felt tears cascade down my cheeks.
Rebecca is startled as I jump from my seat. “I won’t hear it! I won’t hear another word! How dare you!” I stare at her. “How dare you say that my father was not Galahad! My father was not killed in a fire! I never knew him, I never knew him! I couldn’t have been with him when the fire started! There never was a fire!!” I fell onto the floor and sobbed. Dr. Vencor kneeled beside me as I cried.
“Madyline, you must listen to me. While you were in a coma, you had a dream. It was real, so real in fact that you began to forget about your world, and encased yourself in this dream, which you began to think a reality. Objects, dear things from your real life somehow entered into your dream, making it even more genuine. The doll, the horse… I believe that somehow I must have gone into your dream as King Arthur. You yourself called me by his name when you came into the room. I was with you often, and you might have kept my image with you at one of the points when you slightly regained consciousness.” My sobs began to calm down. “Collin, he’s my son. You went to school with him, and you were best friends. He, after a while, obtained the courage to sit down beside you and talk to you. He, for the longest time, could only stand in your doorway. Yesterday was the day that he was with you. And that must have been the day that you were at your ball. Your dream father, Galahad, was the poster on your wall, because somehow in real life you somehow must have realized that your father was dead.”
I whimper. “You mean that it wasn’t real?” He nods slowly. “But… it was so genuine, so real… how could it not be?”
Dr. Vencor looks into my eyes. “Sometimes, dear Maddy, dreams are an escape from reality. Intuitively, you didn’t want to believe what had happened, so then making a new life, one that you wanted. But you can’t escape life.”
I nod and for the first time understand at least a little.
“Take her home,” says Dr. Vencor, looking at Rebecca, my mother. “Let her rest. Don’t force anything on her just yet. She’ll come to you when she wants to remember.”
Rebecca nods. They help me to my feet and we head home. Upon entering the house, I say not a word, and instead head to my room. I close the door, curl into a ball on my bed, and close my eyes.
Suddenly there is a soft knock at the door. I sit up as someone enters, and as I look closer I see that it is Collin. “Hi, Maddy,” he says uncomfortably, shifting from one foot to another. “I’m really glad you’re awake.” I smile at him and he takes a step nearer. “I brought you this. I thought you might like it, since you have all those medieval collections.” He hands me a dainty necklace with a dragon-claw charm attached to it.
“Thank you, Collin,” I say sincerely. I look at it for a moment, then look at him. “I’m sorry that—that I don’t really remember…”
“Oh, that’s okay,” he cuts in, sitting down on the corner of my bed. “I mean, my dad explained it to me, so I understand.”
“Well, since I don’t really remember, maybe you could tell me things.” He looks confused. “Like about yourself, and what you remember about me.”
He smiles. “Okay, then, I can do that.”
For the next few hours he tells me all kinds of stories, about how we’ve been best friends since we were ten, and about the time when I tried to save a kitten trapped in a tree and fell and broke my ankle, things like that. Soon though I tell him that I am very tired, but I make him promise to come back the next day to continue our conversation.
After he leaves, I once again curl up and close my eyes. Then I have a dream. I am looking into Sir Galahad’s piercing blue eyes. His real eyes, this time, not just from the picture. But he isn’t Galahad. He’s my father, my real father. He is stroking my hair, for I am curled up on his lap, and he says, “Sometimes, dear Maddy, dreams are an escape from reality. You wanted to escape reality, and so you live in your dreams.”
“I know, Daddy,” I say, smiling up at him. “But this time, it’s different.” I pause, thinking of the right words to use. “This time I don’t have anything to escape from.”

~*~*~*~
© Copyright 2002 Faye Adams (seraphymn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/464877-Escape-from-Reality