Author: MysteriousAndCurious PM
If you could change the past, would you? Well, I don't really have a choice. Being born into this ability was strange. What's even stranger is that it has started to "manifest" itself in my subconscious. Not cool. Or so I thought. I have that rare ability that not a lot of people I know have. I can change the past. But as time wears on, will I want to? (Rated T for language)Rated: Fiction T - English - Sci-Fi/Adventure - Chapters: 4 - Words: 4,864 - Updated: 05-18-13 - Published: 02-21-13 - id: 3102955
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
"Hi! I'm Emmie!" the younger version of myself said. I stood in the corner of the kindergarten classroom, witnessing the repeat of the meeting of myself and my current arch-enemy, Tara.
"I'm Tara! Let's be friends!" said the other little blond girl. The two children giggled and held hands, walking over to the rug, where the teacher was introducing everyone.
Jump to second grade, on Valentine's Day. There I was, standing at Jason Wood's locker. I held a Valentine in my hands, which were sweaty and shaking. As he walked up, my best friend, Tara, caught up to him and handed him a heart shaped card and kissed his cheek. I stared at her and she only smiled and flounced away. Jason continued to his locker and noticed me.
"Hi, Emmie. How are you? Happy Valentine's Day, by the way," he said cheerfully. I walked up to the younger me for some reason and whispered in her ear.
"Give him your Valentine. Don't ask why, just do it.
"Thanks. I want to give you this. I know that Tara is already your Valentine, but I want you to be mine," I said hurriedly. Jason laughed.
"OF course I will be. Who said that you can't have two Valentines?"
The younger me ran off in search of Tara. I followed and to my surprise, we found her.
"Tara!" the younger me called.
"Yeah?" she replied. She smiled when she saw Younger Me. I stood behind them as they talked, unable to make out what they were saying. Then they hugged. Something I don't remember happening in the past.
Jump to present day, on Monday, four days ago.
"So, Em, you want to have a sleepover this weekend?" Tara whispered to me in Geometry.
"Sure! I'd loved to!" I replied. The real me remembered this conversation never happening in real life. But this was a dream, right?
Beep...Beep...Beep... I groaned and slapped the snooze on my alarm clock, shutting it up until six o'clock tomorrow morning. I slowly got out of bed, tearing myself from the threads of sleep. Not that it was a peaceful sleep. Tossing and turning all night left me sore. And thoroughly bewildered. I know people have strange dreams, but for me, they were just beyond comprehension.
Heading downstairs, I met up with my grandma in the kitchen.
"Morning sweetheart," she said, greeting me with a cup of strong black coffee. I took the up appreciatively.
"Hey, Grams," I replied, taking a sip of the piping hot drink. It seared my tongue and the back of my throat instantly.
"OW!" I shouted in slight pain. I did my best not to swear around my grandmother. She hated it when I did. I stood, coffee in hand, and walked towards the doorway to the stairs. On my way up, I tripped, sending my coffee flying. But it wasn't like any other fall. Something, a white flash, then a blackout, appeared before my eyes, impairing my vision, even though I had contacts.
"Shit!" I cursed, when I saw the coffee splattered all over the white stair carpet. Grams came running and saw what had happened.
"I tripped," I told her, as she helped me stand.
"I can see that. What really happened, Emmaline?" she asked. She had never used my ful name unless she was being serious or she scolded me.
"There was a flash of white, then a blackout, and I fell, like there was an invisible thread stretched out on the stair," I explained. Grams looked worried. She stepped back down the stairs and folded her arms.
"I see. Has this happened before? At school or at friends' houses?" she asked.
"Grams, you sound like a psycologist," I laughed.
"Emmaline, this is serious. Has this happened before?" she asked again, this time in an answer-the-damn-question-or-I-swear-Emmaline tone.
"Twice at Ethan's and once at Marcie's," I answered. She looked worried again.
"Grandma, what is going on?" I asked, scared that I was having a breakdown.
"I'll tell you later. You're not showing any drastic changes. A few dreams and blackouts are common throughout the transition," she explained, walking away from me.
"Grandma, what transition? What's happening to me? And what about my dreams?" I asked, still scared.
"You're not going to school today. Don't ask why, but you're not," she said, finally.
"I have a Midterm today, I have to go!" I argued, but in vain. She wouldn't hear it. She only raised her hand and walked away, and I was defeated. I sat on the stairs, grumbling about my missed midterm and the amount of work I'd have to go through to make it up when Grams came back holding the phone.
"I called school and said you were sick. Be thankful today is a Friday. But the principal is an old friend, and she understood," Grams said. "I want you to go upstairs and meditate please."
"But Grams, I-" I started but she cut me off.
"Please, go Emmie. I will bring you some warm milk with honey," she said and walked towards the kitchen.
I complied, heading upstairs to my room. I sat, cross-legged on the floor and tried to meditate. But it was usless. Geometry swam through my brain like a tar pit. I flopped on the floor and let out a long breath. I thought for a while. Would Grams be mad if I snuck out and went to school to get my Midterm done and out of the way. The reasonable side of my brain answered, of course you dumb-ass. She notices everything.
I sighed and crawled up onto my bed and lied down again. Images swirled in my head of my past dreams. I hadn't studied for a major test in the sixth grade and failed it, and I dreamt that I studied really hard the next night, and had passed the test. When I had gotten the test back the next day, I had gotten a one hundred.
Another time, over the summer the asshole next-door neighbor's son had thrown my favorite teddy bear into a wood chipper. I dreamt that night that I had round-house kicked him and he dropped my bear. I opened my eyes and saw Mr. Fluffykins sitting on my bed, looking back at me. I shook my head and rubbed my temples. The same kind of dream, a time-altering dream whenever something bad ahd happened to me. Or to my friends.
Ethan had lost his wallet on a trip to Washington D.C. over the summer two years ago. I had a dream that night that two daysago I had advised him to put a chain connecting his wallet to a beltloop of his jeans. Two days later, he thought he dropped his wallet, but it was just dangling by his leg.
A knock awoke me from my trance-like state and I bed Grams entrance. She walked in, carrying a tray with a cup of hot milk and honey, plus a cranberry muffin. Setting the tray down on my nightstand, she sat next to me on my bed.
"Emmie, I want to talk to you. There's something about you that I need you to know. You know those time-altering dreams you've been having?"