[ WP ] You find yourself in possession of a button that `` rerolls '' your life .

Mark pushed the button on the metallic silver box. This was no small feat, the box seemed to repel his fingers, no matter how hard he gripped it, he couldn ’ t physically touch the button. Only repel it down. 
 
 Mark closed his eyes as he felt the space around him wave, and it was over. Mark held the box upright in his palm, his fingers outstretched like a claw. He looked down at his forearm and it had worked, he was black. 
 
 Well, more mulatto than anything, Mark thought. 
 
 “ I can ’ t believe it worked! Of course I can, look at this thing! ” He held up the box over the sink of his bathroom, the poor yellow lighting exposed the lines of the barriers surrounding its surface. 
 
 Mark looked around suspiciously, he couldn ’ t have his family finding out about this. 
 He got too excited, he shouldn ’ t have been so loud. 
 
 “ Now, how am I going to hide this, ” he said, looking down into his palm. He had tried putting it in his pocket earlier, it kept sliding out. No matter how many times he tried to push it to the bottom of his pocket he would hover at fixed planes, shifting regardless of how he walked. 
 
 “ Into the coat, then. ” Mark put the box inside his jacket, one arm holding it inside. 
 I look like I ’ m about to assassinate Reagan, he thought. Better get to my room before my parents get home. 
 
 “ Mark, we ’ re back! ” His mom called as she opened the front door. He heard plastic bags crackling over the squeak of the door ’ s hinges. Dad hasn ’ t oiled the hinges, that hasn ’ t changed. 
 
 Mark opened the bathroom door quickly, fast walking down the long hallway to his room. He knew he only had a few more seconds before they would get around the corner and be able to see him. He could make it in time! 
 
 Mark has his hand on his bedroom doorknob as he froze, “ Oh, there you are, Mark! 
 Where are you running off to today? ” His Mom joked. 
 
 “ Screw it, ” Mark said to himself, throwing the box into his room. He closed the door and turned around, willing to humor his parents for a while. He wondered how they would have changed. 
 
 He met halfway with his Mom in the hallway, they walked along the carpet in the hallway. Mark was thankful to get off the cold marble floors. 
 
 She doesn ’ t really look in any different, Mark thought as he hugged his mother. 
 Her hair is different, obviously. She was keeping it shorter than usual, but beside skin, that was about it. 
 
 
 Mark noticed his mother ’ s hands were empty. He looked behind her and saw his white maid, hands filled with bags like a saddled mule. 
 
 Mark and his mother parted, “ So, what have you been up to today? ” she asked him, “ Irene, can you put those up in the kitchen, please? ” She turned back to Mark. 
 
 What did I do, Mark thought to himself. I wonder what else I changed. 
 
 “ I ’ ve just been relaxing today, Mom. I slept in a bit. ” 
 
 “ It ’ s almost four, ” she said, annoyed, “ you ’ re going to sleep your summer away. ” 
 
 “ It ’ s like, June, still. ” 
 
 “ It's July Fourth! You better be ready in time for the barbecue, ” she laughed and went to the kitchen. 
 
 I seem slightly richer than I was before, he thought, as he looked around his house. The floors were thoroughly waxed, his chandelier seemed a little bigger. His 
 
 Mom had gotten a better taste in art, but her personality hadn ’ t changed. 
 
 “ Huh, ” Mark said aloud to himself, turning back to walk into his room. He needed 
 to find out if he changed history at all somehow. 
 
 Mark locked the door and went to his computer then kicked the box under his bed. 
 It slid like an air hockey puck then bounced off his wall out onto the other side. Out of eyeshot, at least. 
 
 He immediately to Ancestry.com ( unofficially sponsored by, Ancestry.com ) and looked into his genealogy. His family was definitely wealthy when he was white, but now it was more pronounced. 
 
 Mark gawked at his computer screen. His family had been one of the first free and most influential in American history. They had lived in D.C. back then too. His 
 family were close associates of George Washington. 
 
 They had jumpstarted Civil Rights, slavery was abolished and the Civil War never 
 happened. He was more surprised at that last fact than anything. He wondered if Mississippi would be good now. 
 
 He kept progressing down, lower and lower into the present day. 
 
 In the 1960s, his family had started a political revolution. Overthrowing the U.S. government and enslaving the white populace. Segregation was enforced heavily among the other races. 
 
 So my family is still rich, but for different reasons, Mark thought calmly to himself. 
 
 WHAT DID I DO? I pray to God slavery didn ’ t need to happen. I destroyed America. Yeah, racism existed, but we were beginning to move on, for the most part. We didn ’ t have literal slavery at this period of time. 
 
 Mark looked to the floor for the box. It was leaping up and down, jumping from plane to plane in space above the floor. 
 
 He grabbed it out of the air, needing both hands to keep it from sliding out of his grasp. He could just try to go back to being white! Or maybe some other race next. 
 
 “ How do I even pick what to select? I just got lucky the first time and got what I wanted, ” he almost shouted in his room. “ Do I have to cycle through races? Really? 
 How many would there be? Am I just going to die of radiation poisoning before that? 
 
 Oh, man, even if I get back to being white that means slavery had to happen, because slavery had already happened and the resentment continued to exist, obviously. I wish I could change history back even further somehow to make sure slavery just didn ’ t happen. That might fix things? ” 
 
 “ Welp, only one way to find out. I can ’ t leave history destroyed. ” 
 
 
 

