~~~~ Prologue~~~~
Now
When I woke that particular morning, I saw the same turquoise wall that had been there every single time I opened my eyes after a night of sleep for the past four days. So, if the wall managed to stay exactly the same, why would that particular day be so different? Maybe a better question is: How does something that can pass in the blink of an eye alter so much? I guess you could say my revolution/revelation started there, and with that exact query. In books and movies (horror films exempt), people always seem to have some sort of preemptive notion when their life is about to change drastically, or when something climactic is about to happen.
From experience and for the record, I know that's complete bull. That day swept me off my feet with the force of a hurricane on steroids, without a weather forecast to let me know it was coming. It was severely bipolar too, a gentle nudge one moment, and a whole-hearted, malicious shove the next. It slapped me straight across the face, inflicting bruises and scrapes galore, and then tenderly healed me again. And, most importantly, it made me swear that I Melle Evans, was a changed person. Well, the day didn't exactly, but I'm sure my personification gets the point across well enough.
I think it was more them that managed to do that, although they were (technically) part of the day. This is getting a little confusing, not to me, but perhaps to a reader. Who are they, you might ask? How exactly, did this all happen?
To answer your theoretical questions, I'll get there eventually. Maybe right about now, or maybe in a few days, or a year. I'm not completely certain about a time frame, but one thing is as for sure as it can ever be in a universe riddled with the laws of probability. You will know more. If you'd only just turn the page.
A/N: Please do turn the page. Please? Virtual, invisible, rainbow unicorns if you do. No additional charges. Also (though no one cares), Neuwerk is a real place in Germany, and I've been there, hence the inspiration. Picture on the side. And I actually had fun there, unlike Melle. PS Hi Eashu.
YOU ARE READING
Blink
Teen FictionThis particular day in the life of Melle is what literate people might refer to as a cold torture chamber of ironies. She hates silence, but on an island populated by thirty-eight people, conversation isn't easy to come across. Companions are spars...
