Here's chapter 16.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Michelle yawned as she sat up. She felt even more sore and exhausted than before. The deaging thing was painful, but it had never been bordering on the kind of soreness that was excruciating. Her back ached, and her stomach was cramping; her ribs burned every time she breathed, and her hips and chest felt like they'd been hit repeatedly. Her legs were so sore, they were weak, and she wondered if they would support her weight when she stood. Basically the pain of a period times three and the pain of a growth spurt times five put together, plus the achy feeling you get when you have the flu or food poisoning. Basically, she felt really sore and really sick.

Michelle glanced at the calendar above her bed, and her heart skipped a beat.

February 5th, 2009. Her ninth birthday.

"No," she muttered. "No, no, no!" she murmured, her voice rising in volume with each exclamation.

Michelle shot to her feet and ran to the full body mirror in the corner.

Her hair was a short, pale blonde ponytail that barely touched the bottom of her neck (this had been a few years before her hair darkened almost over night). She was the color of snow and bony as a scarecrow. Her chest was flat, and her hips were nonexistent. Freckles danced across her nose (more than she'd had at age fifteen), and she wore matching blue pajamas- sky blue pants with clouds on them and a button up shirt with the same pattern. Her bare feet touched the cold floor, and she was barely four feet (she was very short before a moderate growth spurt at age twelve and a huge one at fourteen). She was, well, nine.

"No," she whispered as another horrible conclusion dawned on her, and she sprinted into the hall.

"Tommy!" she called as she dashed into what was supposed to be her brother's room, but she came face to face with an office.

Tommy was gone. She was nine years old and running out of time.

She'd gone from deaging days over night to deaging a week to deaging a year. Now, she'd deaged not one, but two years over night. The process was speeding up. Tommy was gone and soon, she would be, too, if she didn't find a solution.

Michelle returned to her room and stared around the bedroom, soaking in the childish decorations, the old toys she hadn't seen in years, the relatively clean status of the room (untouched by her little brother's messy fingers). In her mind, it had been six years since she was nine. She barely recognized herself, much less her room. They barely kept any pictures from when she was nine. In most pictures, she was really young (seven or younger) or the photograph had been taken after Tommy was born. There was a pretty big gap, and she hadn't seen a photo of her nine year old self since she found a memorabilia box when she was thirteen.

Michelle collapsed onto her bed. It was all too much at once. She didn't know how she was handling it this well. If she wasn't so determined to return to the present, she would've gone crazy by now. Thankfully, her determination was overpowering the overwhelming information her brain had had to take in in such little time.

The door suddenly burst open, making Michelle jump.

"Happy birthday, Michelle!" her parents cheered, and Michelle smiled.

"Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad."

Her mother blinked. "Did you just call us Mom and Dad?"

Michelle froze. What…

Oh, right. She'd called her parents Mommy and Daddy until age ten. Calling them Mom and Dad must've thrown them for a loop.

"I thought I'd give it a try. I like Mommy better, though," Michelle said, trying not to appear startled by her high pitched voice.

Her mom smiled. "Me, too. I don't want you to ever grow up. Ever."

Michelle smiled, but she didn't answer. Nine year old her probably would've said me neither, but she didn't want to lie to her mom. At least the unknown force of time gave her that much.

"What was your favorite present?" her friend Suzy asked through a mouthful of cake.

"The mp3 player. Definitely," Michelle said. "Thanks for getting it for me. My parents would've never done that."

Suzy smiled. "Your welcome."

Michelle glanced at the clock. 2 pm. Six hours until her parents put her to bed and she woke up to another day, another year. She wasn't any closer to finding a solution. She glanced at Suzy. It was a long shot, but she needed advice.

"Suzy, hypothetically-"

"What does hypothetically mean?" Suzy asked.

"It means something that is possible in a certain event, like a science experiment. So if time started going backwards- so you went to sleep today, woke up and it was yesterday, went to sleep, woke up again and it was January, woke up again and it was last year, and so on- and you didn't know why, what would you do?"

Suzy blinked. "Well… I would retrace my steps on the day time started going backwards. See what I did?"

"And see what factors were different than a typical day. Thanks, Suzy!"

Suzy shrugged. "Your welcome."

Michelle sat in bed that night, and she drifted off far too quickly for her liking.

When she awakened again, it was still dark. It was three AM on February 5th, 2007. She was seven now and didn't have much longer. Unless time sped up again, she had three to four tries before she ceased to exist.

"I would retrace my steps on the day time started going backwards. See what I did?"

"And see what factors were different than a typical day. Thanks, Suzy!"

What had been different about the day time went backwards? They received the cuckoo clock. That was what had been different, but how had the clock caused this?

Oh.

Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

The yellow bird popped out. She grabbed it in mid-cuckoo. It made short, strangling noises.

Michelle twisted its head around, so it faced backwards. It looked really funny that way.

It finished out its twelve cuckoos, facing the wrong way.

The bird's head was backwards. She'd almost forgotten. After learning The Truth, her brain was frazzled.

But Dad hadn't bought to Cuckoo Clock yet, so what was she going to-

"It's an antique Cuckoo clock," Dad exclaimed. "It was a bargain. You know that place across from my work, Anthony's Antiques and Stuff?"

The three other nodded.

"It's been in the shop for fifteen years," Dad said, patting the clock. "Every time I walked past the store, I'd stop and stare at it. I've always loved it. Anthony finally put it on sale."

Anthony's store. Of course.

I know Michelle figured the clock out in an earlier chapter, but with all the excitement, she forgot about it until now.

See you next time!