Chapter 1: The First Edit
The worst day of Ellie Smith's life began, as most bad days
do, with a pop quiz and a text box.
She stared at the calculus equation, her mind a perfect,
panicked blank. Mr. Davies's droning voice faded into a distant buzz. I'm going
to fail. He's looking right at me. Why is Chloe chewing her pen so loudly?
And then, it happened.
Just below her line of sight, translucent blue text
shimmered into existence, stark and impossible against the scuffed classroom
floor.
[NARRATION]: Ellie Smith was, quite certain, about to fail.
The equations on the board swam before her eyes, a language she could not
parse.
Ellie froze. She blinked, hard. The text remained. Her heart
hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silent, judging text.
She looked at Mr. Davies as he collected the papers.
[MR. DAVIES]: "Pencils down. Time's up. Pass your
papers forward."
She looked at her best friend, Chloe.
[CHLOE]: (Whispering) "I totally blanked on question
five. You too?"
This wasn't just in her head. This was… a script. A
narration of her own, pathetic life. A hot wave of shame washed over her. It
was one thing to feel like a failure; it was another to have it written out in
glowing blue text for only her to see.
The proof came back ten minutes later, a big, red F circled
at the top of her quiz. The narration delivered the final blow.
[NARRATION]: She had failed. The proof was in her hands, a
scarlet brand of her own stupidity.
---
The rest of the day was a blur of blue-text humiliation.
In the hallway, she tripped over nothing, her books
scattering.
[NARRATION]: Her clumsiness struck at the worst possible
moment.
[UNKNOWN JOCK]: (Chuckling) "Watch it, Smith."
And then came the moment that broke her. Liam Carter, the
boy she'd liked since freshman year, was walking towards her with his friends.
He smiled. Her breath hitched. This was it. He'd finally noticed her.
[LIAM CARTER]: "Hey, watch it, Smith."
He said the exact same words as the jock. He hadn't been
smiling at her. He'd been laughing at her. The narration confirmed it, a cold,
factual record of her social death.
[NARRATION]: Liam Carter did not notice her. He walked past,
his attention already on his friends' conversation about the upcoming game.
Ellie fled to the girls' bathroom, locking herself in a
stall. She pressed her forehead against the cool metal, tears of frustration
pricking her eyes. She stared at the script, which now read:
[NARRATION]: It was just another day Ellie Smith wished she
could rewrite.
Rewrite.
The word echoed in her mind, a desperate, crazy thought. She
focused on the last line of text, pouring all her frustration, all her longing
into it. Her head throbbed with a sudden, sharp pain behind her eyes, but she
didn't stop. She mentally grabbed the sentence, willing it to change.
The blue text flickered, distorted like a bad signal, and
then reformed.
[NARRATION]: It was a day that would change everything.
A jolt, like a static shock, went through her. The headache
blossomed from sharp to pounding. But the text… had changed.
A wild, terrifying hope surged in her chest. She scrambled
for a pen and the failed quiz in her bag. She focused on the red F. The script
above it read:
[NARRATION]: A failing grade.
No, she thought, the pain in her head intensifying. Not an
F. A C. Just… just a C-minus. That's all I need. She pictured the letter,
imagined the red ink shifting form. The blue text glitched violently, the
letters scrambling before snapping back into place, new and undeniable.
[NARRATION]: A passing grade.
She looked down. The red F was gone. In its place, a C- was
circled, the red ink looking as if it had been there all along.
Ellie stared, her blood running cold and electric at the
same time. The world tilted on its axis. This was power. Real, terrifying,
impossible power.
She wasn't just reading the script anymore.
She was the editor.
A slow smile spread across her face, a mix of wonder and
grim determination. She looked at her reflection in the back of the stall door,
a girl who had just rewritten reality.
"Okay," she whispered to herself, her voice steady
despite the shaking in her hands. "Let's try that again."
Her gaze drifted to the script, to the line about Liam
Carter not noticing her. A new, dangerous idea began to form.
The headache pulsed behind her eyes, a warning she chose to
ignore.