One-Upping Myself #1

Taking an old story that I've wrote and trying to improve it using the same plot.

Original Story: Approx. Two Years Ago:

I opened my eyes and looked around the dark room. Everyone was asleep. I quietly put on my clothes and slipped out the window, on to the roof.
 I looked up at the sky. It was a new moon tonight so the stars were shining brighter then ever. After a long time, I decided to go back inside.
 On the way to the window, I lost my footing. I stuggled [sic] to keep my balance, but in the end, I lost. I fell off the edge of the roof and went plunging to the ground. I closed my eyes, waiting for death.
 It came.

  Improved Version: Written Today
   The dreams were foggy and came at a rapid motion. My mother. My father. The screams. I always hear the scream.
  My eyes slowly blink, adjusting to the soft darkness of my shared bedroom. My foster siblings were still snoring soundly, having peaceful slumbers. I, on the other hand, am shaking to the core, whispering the same old 'it's in the past' mantra to myself to calm the rapid beating. I crawled silently out of my covers, pulling a shirt on over my nighttime tank top. The window was still eerily open, curtains fluttering in the winter winds. Like I've done countless times before, I heave myself on to the bottom ledge of the window, crawl up to the top, and pull myself to the roof. Barefoot. It used to make me feel free, but now, I don't know.
  I tilt my head up, watching the stars. New moon tonight. The stars seem to volumize their shine with the moon's dark absence. Time seemed to tick by. I thought about my parents. I thought about the new city I'm in. I try not to remember the dreams.
  After a moment or a million, the chill of the night pushes me to go back inside. All I have to do is do a small jump down to the ledge of my window, and slip inside.
  I begin to leap, when my foot slides across the smooth surface of the ice that has begun to gather around the edge. It causes me to lose the meager footing I have, and flings my body off the roof. A scream chokes up inside my throat, and I desperately try to grab something; anything. I was plunging to the ground. The eight story apartment building's height was evident enough that I was surely going to die.
 I squeeze my eyes shut, and wait.

Author's Note

The hard part about doing this is that you can't change the plot at all. I find it stupid that she just loses her footing, but apparently my younger self didn't, so here we are. So, what do you think? Any improvement?

Reviews

[Song]

mucho grande improvement... lol

the story written two years ago... I thought "...This couldn't be Stryks' writing..." but it was ... .__.