Prologue

Prologue of my short story. This is only the second draft. I'm open to any suggestions, just keep it reasonable. Also, it's not quite historical fiction, but I'm not sure what other genre it would be

Mel lay face-up and restless in her bed, as usual, listening to the trickle of the creek outside her window. There were several things keeping her awake; said open window, the uncomfortable mattress, the scratchy sheets. And the worst part, there was nothing she could do about these discomforts. She could close the window, but then the stuffiness of the room would be keeping her from sleep. It was almost a paradox, and something that would never be solved, until she was of age to leave the orphanage. Mel didn’t like to think of such distant future, though, the mystery and fogginess of it bewildered and almost spooked her.

She tried to assure herself that if what was keeping her awake and worrying her happened again, she could fix it, like she had done last time. Two years ago, to be exact. Two years ago was a warm spring evening like any other, and before Mel slipped into her cot on that evening, she decided to leave the window next to her bed open. She knew that if she didn’t do so, the room would become unbearably humid. Although it was warm outside, it was also breezy, so the room would be cooled. So, she pushed open the window and curled up in her bed. She fell into a peaceful slumber soon after.

Suddenly, something happened, something that made this night very different from others. Mel awoke in the middle of the night to a sound of screaming wind, a crash, and a shatter. In a spilt second, glass shards went flying. Before she could realize that winds caused one panel of the window to collide with the brick wall, which, in turn, caused the glass of the window to shatter, her bed was peppered with shards of glass. She felt small pinpricks on herself, and knew that pieces of glass must have pierced several spots on her skin. She couldn’t move, because her bed was covered with glass. So, not having any idea what else she could do, she shrieked. It didn’t help much, because everyone in her room had also been awoken by the crash and had noticed what had happened to Mel, and all ran over to her side. Mel had tried to collect her thoughts and calm down, realizing that she could fix the situation.

Mel had shut her eyes, and found the memory of the beginning of that warm spring evening, just a few hours ago. She then performed the supernatural task that she, herself, was never able to explain. She somehow became part of that memory, almost relived it. Mel, from what was then the present, had embodied Mel from the past. But now, she knew what would happen if she left the window open. So, all she had to do was leave the window in its closed state. She, being Mel from what was then the present, opened her eyes, and the task was complete. It was the same time of night, except there was no commotion, glass, anything. She had gone back into the past and altered what she had done to cause the chaotic event, so slightly that it wouldn’t seem to make any difference either way, but in this case, it made all the difference. The now closed window rattled from the furious wind, and the air of the room was heavy and hot. But, despite the thick air of the room and uneven clatter of the window, Mel had been able to drift off to sleep safely.

All of this was two years ago, the first time Mel used her power (that she now called making something “un-happen”) in a significant way. She had discovered it many years back, so long ago she could no longer remember the first time she had used it. What Mel did remember was that before this incident from two years ago (that now ceased to exist anywhere but Mel’s memory), she hadn’t used her ability for anything of great importance. Before this event, she probably only used it if she had knocked something over, stubbed her toe, said something she didn’t quite mean, etc.

Although Mel knew that if the window shattered again, she could make it “un-happen” again, it was still something she did not want to experience again. Not because of the actual danger or pain, there was very little of that. The aspect that really made the event so awful was being woken so early with such commotion, not knowing what was happening, and having everyone crowd around her. She hated having attention drawn to her, especially in such a vulnerable state.

Remembering this incident that didn’t happen to anyone else unnerved her in the same way thinking about the distant future did. So, trying to keep her mind away from the incident, she now let her mind following the flowing sound of the creek. It could always soothe her into a deep sleep, and was the only reason she got any sleep at night. Soon, her eyelids were heavy, and she entered her conscience, where she experienced blurry, uneventful dreams and her tired mind recharged.

Author's Note

Open to any suggestions. Perhaps you could help me decide what genre this really is. Also, I don't know why most of it has a grey background. I tried to fix it.