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Okay... So I cheated on NaNo, and? razz This is going to be my NaNoWriMo-project, and I hope I'll actually finish the story before my deadline of 3 years is over. xd

I decided on US spelling.


Title: Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten!
Themes: MPD (means 'Multiple Personality Disorder'), [shizophrenia?], writing (art), young adult, general life, [romance?]
Summary: The 18-year-old I-person (Sarah Katharine Landon) dreams about having a career in writing and starts doing research on MPD for a story. She slowly discovers that she's not exactly alone herself... In fact, she has 10 other personalities.


Character guide (spoilers): http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?page=1&t=1516368#36961514
Prologue: http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?page=1&t=1516368#36961907

Prologue: Imagine.

Imagine, you are eighteen years old. You just finished High School after long, long years, and college still seems far away. The most relaxed summer you will ever have is about to begin, and you are not even sure it will only stay one summer. Maybe this summer will last forever, or maybe you will take a whole year off. Maybe.

Your greatest passions are music, writing and arts; your biggest dream is to one day, one day, be a novelist. To make your passion your living and your job.

Plot bunnies run contests on the wall of your skull and the wildest ideas are running through your mind, each screaming "Pick me!" at you non-stop. Gives you quite the headache, all that noise in your head. All the whispers, all the coloury flashes of light dancing before your eyes. Scenes are seen the very moment you dare close your eyes, you are not always sure they are even all fake. But you assure yourself you just have an avid imagination, a creative mind, and that it means nothing. You stop worrying. Stop panicking. Just for a minute.

One idea jumps out of the crowd and yells hardest, scream piercing through everything in a manner that forces you to close of sound by putting your hands over your ears and screw your eyes tight shut. The moment you do that the lights start flashing again with scaring speed, first red, then green, purple, blue, yellow, white and at last, black. Nothing but black.

When you open your eyes all colors are gone, chased away, everything is left in gray-scale.

You move your hands but it feels like swimming, your legs seem glued to the floor. Or is it the ceiling? You are not sure anymore. The moment you touch anything it dissolves, melts. What is going on? Your only answer is a laugh you hear in the back of your head, an amused giggle, a quiet chuckle.

Then you blink, confused.

Next thing you see is an overwhelming sea of color, and you fall down when you try to move too fast. What happened? That question will haunt you and come back many, many times. But you do not know that yet. Right now you are trying to convince yourself that it was your hungry stomach talking, that it was a hallucination, that you are only tired, that you should get a glass of water before you faint.

And so you act on that. Never had water tasted any better, or were you more eager for that peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Never had normal felt so good.

Imagine, you are looking in a mirror. It is a big mirror, making you visible over your whole length. Makes you complete.

Your eyes are puffy, your hollow cheeks suggest you did not sleep nor eat nearly enough for at least several weeks. Your clothes, though the right size in your mind, do not fit anymore. You are tall, but you feel small and misplaced when you look at the brightly lit and colored room you are standing in. Every time you walk in the room you feel the urge to shut down the light, barricade the windows and doors and paint everything black. Or gray, gray is okay too. But no colors. Or white.

You walk around, touch everything. Nothing dissolves this time. The thought makes you feel relieved, but at the same time you scold yourself for even thinking something as abnormal as that can happen. This is the real world, you tell yourself, not some book or movie. Maybe you are wrong, maybe you are right? But either way, this is your world.

The round goes past closets, bookcases, a box of art supplies, a TV, a radio and a bed. Past a chipped second-hand guitar in the corner, a cd-rack, some old stuffed animals and a pc. How you love that pc, your device to flee from the room. Flee from the house. The only thing you have to do is stare at the black screen and dream.

You stop at the pile of stuffed animals. Their colors are faded, their purpose is completed. Yet they are still here. A bunny that has lost its softness, a wolf that misses an eye, a patched up cat and a white seal. The seal used to give you nightmares.

On top of the pile lies an Anne Geddes baby, a butterfly. You pick it up, move its wings and arms. It is green, with blue and purple. Every time you look at it, you wonder why you bought it. You can hardly even remember where and when. It seems new.

A sound shakes you out of your wonderings; you drop the doll in reflex and look around, searching for the source of the sound. It is only the radio. The wake-up function, you realize, as you listen to the news. The newsreader says it is 7am. Last time you looked at the clock it was 4pm.

Time goes quick, you say to yourself.

As you turn around, you face the mirror again. Brown eyes stare back. You bring up your hands to check you are real; fingertips brushing past frizzy shoulder length reddish-brown hair and almost sickly pale skin. You definitely need to get out more, catch some sunlight, get a tan. Stop procrastinating about going outside.

The figure opposite you seems like an empty shell. You know your friends say that you changed, that is, the little you have left. You have never been popular. You have never joined the cheerleaders. You have never got one look from a guy who was worth it, other then in disgust. Does that make you worthless?

The girl in the mirror blinks, raises a hand and changes, sculpted fingers running through now longer straight blonde hair. Flirtingly twisting the locks around her finger. She smiles at the same time you do. And changes back.

You sigh, defeated. But it was worth a try, no?

No, you are not completely worthless. But you will never be of much value either.

Imagine you just sank to the ground and the room is spinning around you. You close your eyes once more, desperately trying to shut out all the flashes of color. This is not new to you, not at all. And you know how it will end. And you know that you are afraid.

Don't be.

It will all be over in a few seconds. Long, I admit, but still.

I know.

How?

Because I am you. Sarah Landon, pleasure to meet you. Or, better said... Me.

I'm curious about the personalities. You say that they were "one with" another, so do they physically split, or just begin existing separately from one another, as with MPD? (Which is not schizophrenia, by the way.)

Also, with Zanthe and Fear: are they one in the same? If so: how do the ages differ by a year? Does Fear perceive himself/herself as abused, or is Fear the original personality, while Zanthe forgets the abuse when the Zanthe personality resurfaces?

For the story:

Grammar:

"Your greatest passions are music, writing and arts; your biggest dream is to one day, one day, be a novelist. To make your passion your living and your job." Is the second sentence intended to be a fragment? There are several more in there, so I'm going to assume it is.

"Scenes are seen" feels awkward.

One idea jumps out of the crowd and yells hardest, screams piercing.

Plot, Characters, Etc:

The second-person feels a bit unusual in this context. It could definitely have been written in the first, like the last sentence, and had the same impact.

Furthermore, in the case of Sarah's MPD apparent: is there a reason for it? The proposed view is that it's caused after childhood abuse leads to a split in personalities --- a dissociation, which is a defense mechanism that separates certain thoughts from the psyche --- in order to cope. Was Sarah abused, or is this just a sort of ruse to keep the writing going?

Furthermore, how does she realize she has one other personality, let alone ten? When dissociation occurs, the events are usually forgotten, leading to a sort of personality-based amnesia.

A couple good links for further research:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dissociation
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dissociative_Identity_Disorder

Frst off, can I just say "Wow." That is a damned good piece of writing you have there. I love the second person pov that then reverts to first person; it makes for an awesoem introductory hook. The fragmented sentences are brilliant. They give the entire piece a sort of frenzied, frantic, almost kinetic energy. The premise is fascinating and already you ahve me hooked. If this was in book form, I'd already be running off to my room to hide from the rest of the world for the rest of the evening.

That being said, I did find a few glitches here and there. Congratulations though, I found no spelling or capitalization errors.

Let the editing begin!


"Stay one summer" is awkward. I understand what you mean, but it doesn't sit right. Maybe "only be one summer" would fit a little better?


I believe the better term is "the arts," and shouldn't there be a comma right before the and?



"skull !comma! and the wildest ideas"



I don't think "coloury" is a word. Even if it is, I believe colorful would be a better word choice.


A couple of issues here. I agree with whoever said earlier that "scenes are seen" is awkward. Also, the even in "you are not always sure they are even all fake" is awkward. It might read better if you crossd out the even or put something like, "you are not even sure they are always fake." I also believe that "you are not alway.." should become its own sentence and form a compound sentence with "But you assure yourself." Lastly, I think you meant "vivid" instead of "avid"?



"Putting" is out of tense, it should be "put."


Is scaring even a word? wouldn't frightning or startling or somthing along those lines be beter?


"everything is left in gray-scale" should be it's own sentence. It makes things more dramatic.



"Has" instead of "had."



I know what you mean, but this is awkward. I think you should find a better way of conveying it.


"you have not slept nor eaten" should replace "you did not sleep nor eat."


A comma should be between "doors" and "and paint"



"as that can" seems kind of awkward.


There should be a comma between "a radio" and "and a bed."


Comma between "cat" and "and a white seal." (I do realize I'm a bit comma crazy, and that the way you're doing lists with excluding a comma when you ahve an end there is perfectly acceptable. I just feel more comfortable with seeing the comma and the and.)


"Reflexively" instead of "in reflex" maybe?


7 A.M. and 4 P.M. wink


I thin this would be less awkward if you switched some things around. Maybe, "You know your friends, the little you have left that is, say you have changed." ?


Whoo, that's it. biggrin Thanks for allowing me the pleasure of reading it, and remember,most of these are just suggestions.

smile No problem, and don't mind the commas so much, I'm a bit comma crazy. (Partly because I read out loud a lot and commas let you breathe. wink ) I think most of the commas I did want you to add in aren't necessary, just how I learned to write.

English isn't your native language? Wow, I'm really impressed; I never would have figured that out. You write so well.

As for the AM/PM thjing, you used them correctly, I just wanted them capitalized.

Hope to see an update soon.