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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1231456-Time-Change
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by justme Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Experience · #1231456
Haunted by her brothers & a child's rhyme, a girl sets her clocks and gains the upper hand
"OH NO," Melissa cried, barely peeking from under the covers.  "This can't be happening!" 

Uncertain of what had even awakened her, she glanced towards the clock.  Ŗ:35!" her mind screamed!  "You've really done it this time," she scolded herself.  Frantically she threw back the blankets and grabbed the clock. 

She clicked the button until the face read 3:35 am.  Everything appeared to be the same as always but something felt different.  "I've got to change the rest of the clocks," she fretted. 

As her feet encountered the cold floor her mind sang the little rhyme that always helped her to remember which way to turn her clocks:  "Spring forward, fall back, otherwise the world will crack."  Her brothers had taught her when she was very young that for the time change to work, the clocks had to be reset at 2am or you risked creating a fissure in the fabric of space and the world could come to an end.  Logically, she knew it was just her brothers playing mind games with her, yet somehow she felt a psychological need to follow through.  Now, her first time living away from home during the time change and she had overslept, letting time run out.

Her worries were interrupted by the piercing ring of the telephone.  "Hello," she cried, breathlessly.

"Spring forward, fall back, otherwise the world will crack," a high-pitched voice sang.  The unearthly voice was followed by a shriek, the shattering of glass, and an abrupt click as the receiver on the other end was dropped back into place.

Clutching her robe about her, Melissa ran out into the hallway and peered into the face of the grandfather clock.  The pendulum was still swinging steadily back and forth, but the time on the face read 4:30!  "This can't be right," she told herself, trying to think logically.  "Spring forward...." The sing-song voice in her head tormented.

She shook her head, as if trying to shake the voice into silence.  The hallway from the bedroom to the kitchen seemed unusually long.  "You've got to change the clocks," her fear urged.  "The clocks!" she continued, pushing an unruly strand of misplaced hair out of her eyes. 

Melissa courageously headed for the kitchen.  Even while she lived at home, she had always been careful to keep the kitchen clocks precisely synchronized, so when she looked at the clock on the microwave and then the clock on the stove, she was appalled to see that they were an hour and 17 minutes different!  "This can't be happening!" she reminded herself. 

The phone jingled to life once again.  She placed the cold receiver by her ear but said nothing.  "What have you done?" a gruff voice demanded before she slammed the receiver home.  Melissa fell limply against the counter and clung to it for support, her panic rising as her mind struggled for a reasonable explanation.

Her wobbly legs swayed slightly as she fought to remain standing.  Through the film of the sheer kitchen curtains strange lights were visible moving back and forth between the trees, casting eerie and frightening shadows through the apartment.  Too afraid to move, Melissa blew on the curtains, which gracefully fluttered open for a split second and then fell closed again.  In that brief time, terror gripped Melissa's heart and a scream escaped her lips.  Involuntarily her hand went to the curtain and pulled it out of the way.  Streams of undulating lights were circling the yard and in the middle, stood the glowing figure of a man. 

"Pete!" Melissa whispered, horrified.  Pete, a three-year old golden retriever, had always enjoyed sleeping outside in his dog house when the weather got warm enough.  "Oh, Pete," she sobbed.  "What has happened to you?"

Steadying herself against the counter, Melissa took a deep breath and headed back to her bedroom.  Looking at the clock she knew was correct, she made it her mission to go through the rest of the apartment and change all of the clocks to that time before allowing anything else to distract her again.  Every clock she touched had a different time on it, but she set them all and continued on.  When she had finished changing all of the clocks, she returned to the kitchen window.  As if on cue, the phone rang once again.

"Spring forward..." the voice began.

"Who is this?" Melissa shouted into the phone.  "And what have you done with Pete?"

"Fall back..." the voice continued, undaunted.

"What do you want from me?" she screamed, exasperated.

"Otherwise..."

"No it won't!" she interrupted.  "It can't!  That just doesn't make any sense!  I don't believe you anymore."

"...the world will crack!" Melissa heard the strange voice finish as she dropped the phone and ran towards her bedroom.

"Pete!" she gasped as she entered her room.  There, sprawled out in the middle of her bed was Pete, alive and well!  "How in the world did you get in here?"  Pete looked at her with large unknowing innocent eyes and then dropped his sleepy head back down on the bed as Melissa smoothed the soft fur between his ears.  Puzzled, she looked around for a clue.  As the panic began to wear off, Melissa found the courage to look out the window.  The glowing man was lounging in one of her patio chairs and the lights that had been flying around the yard were strewn nearby in unceremonious heaps.

"I know that figure," she said, her head now cleared of the panicky fog.  Stealthily she dressed in dark clothes and crept out the front door.  Nearing the gate, she grabbed the hose and turned on the water.  "I GOT YOU!" she cried, spraying the figure with cold water.

Confusion broke out on the patio as the glowing figure and two nearly invisible figures leapt from the patio furniture to escape the onslaught of water.  "You three are pure evil!" Melissa shouted, recognizing the voices of her brothers amid the mayhem!  "Just wait.  One day I will get you back!"  She turned the hose on them again before joining in their laughter.

1,012 words
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