The museum was a wondrous, mysterious place. Her favourite place to go when she was able to. She bypassed the exhibits of Native Americans, fossils, geodes and insects. Not even a glance as the discoveries behind the glass as a means of security and prevention of human contact or even oxidization. A barrier to the outside world. She ventured to the showcase that called her name. Ancient Egypt. The display was nothing new. She had visited the one specifically because, well, she didn’t actually know why, but she did know she felt a sort of connection somehow. Not just a fascination, but a connection. There was a small portion of Egyptian heritage in her blood, but nothing you would really count as something to brag about.
She slowed to a stop and paused just before entering the gallery and took a deep breath. Something was different this time. Something was pulling her. A force that felt almost magnetic. The first step she took sounded like a thunderclap, which startled her as she was only wearing flat, brown gladiator sandals. Each continuous step she took tentatively and each one reverberated up through her feet and legs and throughout the rest of her body.
Elaborate sarcophagi, busts of rulers and deities, wigs, tools, dioramas, and remaining articles of clothing were only a few of the fascinating relics. She slowly circled the path of the exhibit, relishing in every detail, every tidbit of information, her leatherbound notebook out as she continued her notes and sketches of each item of this civilization of yore.
Not even halfway through the path, she passed a statue of a Queen she had never taken notice of before. She stopped and turned her head to look, and walked backwards to feed her curiosity and read the golden nameplate. Queen Hatshepsut. The young women knew, from general research that Hatshepsut was a revered pharaoh, who ruled jointly with her husband Thutmose II. She reigned long than any other woman of originating Egyptian dynasty. A whole two decades. She had re-established trade routes and was a creative builder in both Upper and Lower Egypt.
As she looked at the granite statue, empty eyes stared back, enveloping her in a shroud of fog. Her own eyes rolled back into her head and as if time did a fastforward , but also a rewind. She opened her eyes to see a woman. A silhouette of her, standing in an arch entrance with billowing draped fabric on either side of her. The woman looked out to the dunes of sand in the far distance. The scene before her changed rapidly to someone’s hands; a man’s, slowly unsheathing an intricately jewelled dagger, then all of a sudden, she was standing in the desert as five camels thundered past her, away from the gaining massive sandstorm, which in now time engulfed her. She had no time to run, so she squeezed her eyes shut, but before she knew it, the sound of the grainy wind was gone and there she stood at the edge of a rectangular garden pond.She opened her eyes to beautiful lotus flowers and lily pads that overtook the surface of the water, but the closer she leaned to the water, the more red the water became. She leaned too far and fell into the water, catching hold of her breath in time. But yet into wasn’t into the water she fell, but through the water. She released her breath as she stumbled onto the other side, into darkness. Then a light. The woman from before stood before her in a linen robe, artfully wrapped about her body. A headdress adorned her head in gold and blue stripes, holding a makeshift torch. The woman walked toward her until her eyes were the sole focus. Hazel. almond eyes; her own eyes, rimmed precisely in kohl pierced her own eyes.
“RUN!” Hatshepsut warned, her eyes wide with intent. The word echoed all around her.
Startled, the girl fell backwards, her mouth opened to release a sound that wouldn’t come. Hatshepsut disappeared into the blackness.
She gasped for air and opened her eyes to noticed she was on the floor at the museum. The statue of Queen Hatshepsut stood stoic in her enclosure.