Though I haven't given it as much attention as I had anticipated this summer, I do actually have a novella that I'm writing along with the novel I posted a snippet of earlier. I wanted it done by the end of August, but computer problems have made that entirely impossible. I would, however, like to post the Prologue seeing as I desperately need some content.
I'd also like to mention that I'm HORRIBLE at first person, which is the point of view I've chosen for this particular story. It seems like the only possible way for the plot to have the impact I want. Unfortunately, I know that I also have a lot of potential to screw it up.
The worst possible thing that I could do in this situation is panic. I'm a neurotic mess, and I'll admit that it's hilarious. I sure hope to God that someone finds this entertaining. I truly do need to create a character who is as "mentally hilarious" as I am.
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I’ll bet that when you look at me, all you can see is a shadow.
I thought so. I probably shouldn’t have even made contact with you. I can tell you’re scared, but don’t be. Trust me when I say that you’re lucky that it was me who approached you and not one of the others.
Truth be told, I just wanted to see if I was really gone, or if I still had a chance to run. Now I know, but I don’t want to go just yet, selfish at that may seem. In fact, I want to stall for as much time as I can.
He’ll find me, I know that’s inevitable. He’s probably closer by than I think at this very moment. I’m more frightened now than I was when I first met him…or it, rather.
He isn’t a “he”, I know that, too. I’m just much more comfortable with knowing that he’s something I’m familiar with instead of…well, instead of something that’s “alien” to me, for lack of a better word.
I’m probably the only one you’ll ever meet that’s a “she” instead of an “it”. If you’re lucky, you’ll never meet another one of us again. Because the chances of you meeting one like me…one that used to be one of you…are slim.
Of course you’ve seen us before, maybe even heard us. Those ominous shadows lurking in the corner of your peripheral vision that you’d always assumed belonged to something…a person or object…beyond what you were capable of seeing. If only you knew just how far beyond…..
I know you’re frightened enough as it is. A random shadow speaking to you out of the darkness can be quite unnerving. But it isn’t like we…I suppose I should be considering myself one of them now…haven’t tried speaking to you before. You’ve trained yourself not to hear us. I guarantee that the memories are buried there, somewhere deep within the file labelled “Fleeting Childhood Moments”.
I would also recommend that you don’t go looking for those memories. Your brain has blocked us out for a reason. You were only able to notice me because, well…because I’m not really one of them. Not entirely. Like I said before, you would see what I meant if you were to try and find some of the others. But don’t. Please. You’re living in a bubble, each and every one of you. Don’t burst it, no matter how wonderful you think it would be to peek beyond the veil.
Me, I didn’t have a choice. Someone burst my bubble for me, and, well, here I am. Forgive me for telling you my story, for bursting your bubble, too. I know you don’t want to hear it. But I don’t want to go just yet, and, well…you can give me that much, can’t you? Besides, it won’t be just my story for much longer. They’ll be coming for all of you soon enough. You deserve a warning, even if you won’t listen.
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