Historical Memory
Prompt: You don’t know why, but you’ve always been able to “see” (but never interact with) the past when visiting historical places. Then one day while visiting and “watching” the daily life of an English Castle, a woman turns to you from the past and asks for help.
Entry: I always knew I was different. My parents used to explain away my stories as “childhood imagination” and laugh with their friends at the fortune I’d make as a world renowned author. I learned to stop sharing what I saw. And I did not become a writer.
I make my living conducting research for a local museum, travelling to historical sites and collecting artifacts, sponsored by our wealthier patrons. Our museum has grown in popularity over the years and historians praise the authenticity of our collections and tours. It’s certainly a comfortable life and I’m able to use my oddities to my advantage without drawing attention like I used to.
I have a strange sight. I see the past when I visit places of historical significance. Sometimes it’s easy to access, other times I have to concentrate to pick up the merest trace of activity. But I find more often than not that I can step into a foyer or onto a battleground and ender a world entirely separate from our own. I became a silent observer to the acts of these past dramas.
It used to scare me - in particularly strong episodes I step completely out of the present into a vivid memory. I cannot hear or see the world as it exists now. To my parents it appeared that I was stunned into wide eyed silence by reverence for history. When I became myself again in the present they would applaud my passion for stories. They never grasped quite what I experienced on our family trips.
I learned over the years that these incidents were harmless. I could not touch or talk to the ghostly figures in my visions. They could not see or hear me, and never posed a threat. I came to enjoy this gift and started travelling to well known historical sites alone to fully immerse myself in the story of the people who once lived there. It appears to me that I see the most emotionally charged times in a location’s past - events that left such an impact they reverberate throughout history on a loop.
I’ve seen true Greek tragedies in the Lyceum, witnessed the baptisms of future kinds in the Hagia Sophia, watched the march of thousands of downtrodden souls under an arch marked with “Arbeit Macht Frei”. Some sights are hard to observe, but they’ve taught me more about humanity than any class I’ve ever taken.
I decided to go into museum curation to share my understanding of the world through this unique lens. The museum also funds my travelling, a definite perk to the job.
On this particular sunny Saturday I am standing outside the doors of the McCloed castle in Scotland. Once the seat of a powerful scottish clan, now a popular destination for tourists hoping to glimpse 18th century life. As a researcher travelling on behalf of the ______ Museum, I have been granted early access to the grounds before the hordes of schoolchildren and amateur historians swarm the castle.
I take a deep breath, prepare for the moment to call to me, and give myself over to the story of this place.
A scream pierces the air. When I open my eyes I see a dark night sky and a rush of activity on the castle green. It appears to be the preparation for a battle: fortifications being made against an impending threat. Children race by me and a woman chases, turning back indignantly to call, “Will ye help, then? Or simply wait for his majesty’s men?”
I turn quickly to see who she’s calling to. Everyone else is busy with their tasks. I turn back to her to see her following the children, throwing a disgusted glance over her shoulder at me.
What in the world?
