A girl who has been brought up around not believing in fairytales, magic or Santa... She then starts believing, and the bad turn to be the worst... She's in for a tough time. Time needs resetting, and she's the only one that can do it. Will she succeed? Or will the world cease to exist?
Imagine being me. Just picture it for one moment; a girl just gone fifteen. Walking down the damp claustrophobic streets in search of something. Something. Something out of sight. Something that doesn’t want to be searched. For this is no glad tiding. This is something to fear. Something to run from, which is why I must search it. This is no magic, and this is no joke. This night is the end of an era. This night, this night is the end of the year. This night, is the end of the universe.
Let’s go back a few months: January 2010. I’m fifteen years old, and in search of something out of sight. Because how do you find what you’ve lost? You look in the least obvious places. Time was out of sequence. Time needed to reset itself, or the end of the world would come sixty billion years too soon.
I was the only one that could reset it. But how on earth was I supposed to do that? I hadn’t been brought up in a family that dealt with this type of thing. I wasn’t like Delia. Delia is my best friend; our Mothers knew each other from being very young, and we had been brought up together. The thing was that Delia’s Mother and my Mother were two very different beings.
I had been told from being very little that fairytales weren’t real, that someone should sue Disney for making little children believe in happy endings, I had always been told that there is no such thing as a happy ending, and that Santa and the tooth fairy weren’t real. I was always told that there was no such thing as magic. So that is why I have never believed in magic.
So imagine, having been told these things your whole life, and then out of nowhere comes this old Grandmother that you had never known about, telling you that you are the only one that can reset time. The fact that time even needed resetting was disturbing enough, so I carried on with my life, acting like nothing abnormal was happening. After all, things like this don’t happen to Amelia Brown. My theory was that the woman was old, and probably wasn’t functioning like she used to. She probably had that Alzheimer’s disease. My Grandfather had had it, and it was basically a form of dementia.
I was talking to Delia about a week later; she would know about things like this. Things like this happened in Delia’s life all the time. Maybe I could have a sneaky talk with her Mother. My Mother would think I was going insane and have me see a shrink. This happened last time I mentioned something about magic. I was eight years old, and my Mother had stripped all the joys of life from me, well, okay that may have been a little harsh; she had warned me that believing in things that aren’t real leads to expectations and these are what I must avoid at all costs, so she says. I started believing then, it was something to keep my mind off things that were happening at home. My Father had died just before I was born, which I am assuming is where my Mother’s obsession about magic and happy endings comes from.
Weird things had started happening since then, and unexplained noises and happenings started going on in the house, and wherever I went, but my Mother never batted an eyelid. Neither did anyone else, and this made me wonder whether other people were as oblivious as they seemed. Maybe these things were only happening to me because I declared that I now believed...