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Old 09-04-2003, 02:58 PM   #1
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JenJoyful
After Death... - Chapter 1

Thanks to everyone for your help in my other thread "First Few Paragraphs". I've pieced the chapter all together with a new bit added.
Gave it a 'for now' title: After Death.... I'm not sure I'll like that for a title in the end...

I'm still not satisfied with the very beginning, but I guess everyone rewrites their first paragraph a million times

I've found everyone's comments and suggestions very helpful (especially you Willy! *smooch*)

Please keep the comments coming!
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The day that I died is still a blur to me. I only know the details of the event itself from newspaper articles that I made the mistake of digging up years later. Nor do I recall anything special or significant happening that day that could explain the course of events that followed. My life had originally been exceptionally unexceptional. I can't say that I hadn't enjoyed my life, but it had been so predictable. It wasn’t the exciting kind that I lived in my childish fantasies, full of love and adventure. I had been dreaming of something more, unsatisfied with what I had attained. When my time came I accepted my death easily. I didn't struggle to hang on to life as so many do instead I just let go. All my years of imagining a different life hadn’t prepared me for the one I was about to be given.

The confusion, the rush of pain, and the fear that came when the car struck me and my body went sailing through the air, accompanied me to the dark and wet alley in which I awoke. I am still not sure exactly how much time passed between my death and that moment when I stood on shaky feet and brushed the dirt from my newly acquired legs. The details of my previous life swirled with those of my new identify, and the disorientation that sprung from that muddle of experience caused me to pay little attention to the actual transition. I died as Marie and I awoke as Emma.

I stumbled a few meters before my jelly legs wore out and I fell at the feet of a woman in sleek high-heeled shoes. My eyes traveled up her shapely leg, to the short black skirt of her business suit, and finally landed upon an unwelcomingly cold expression. I took it that she wasn't accustomed to shabby street urchins invading her heavily perfumed personal space. The sound of the rushing city traffic hurt my head and I winced in the bright sunlight that cut the mouth of the alley in a diagonal slice. I moved out of her way, more to seek the solace of the shadows than to convenience her, but she seemed satisfied enough with my actions to turn her hateful glare off me and back at the man who she was verbally bashing with unrelenting anger. At first he was unaware of my presence, so distraught at this woman's public display, so I was afforded the chance to hide in the shadows and unknowingly observe him. He was beautiful, a man whose eyes held a depth that seemed impossible considering his youth. His hair was short, with large curls that he failed at trying to tame. The strong line of his jaw was cleaned shaven, and he carried a book bag that didn't fit with the tidy suit he wore. It gave him the appearance of a boy trying to play the part of a man and being only moderately successful. The disorientation of my transition was forgotten as I took in the sight of him. I like to say that I knew in that moment that I loved him, but honestly it wasn't until his sad eyes fell upon mine that I truly felt it; the connection.

The woman was shouting at him about some engagement that they were late for, stating that he was always holding them up. She had continued walking after I had removed myself from her path, but he remain glued to the ground as he took in my dirty clothes and disheveled red hair. She stomped back over to him huffing in annoyance and grabbed his arm to bring his focus back upon her.

"Charlie, for God’s sake would you get your head out of the clouds. If you make us late for this, I swear..." Her threat was lost in the blast of a car horn as she moved out from the curb, waving a well-manicured hand in attempt to hail a cab. Ignoring her ranting, he bent down to sit on his heels and face me.

"Are you alright?" The softness of his voice held me momentarily hypnotized. I found my voice eventually, but it sounded strangely unfamiliar to me as I used it.

"I think I’m okay. Just a bit dizzy, thanks." I ran an unsteady hand over my head, a nervous habit, and felt the thickness of my hair. I knew that something was not right, I had expected thin strands of long silky hair to slide between my fingers, but instead found it course and knotted.

The woman called out to him as a yellow car pulled up beside her. She opened the door and her eyes flashed with irritation when she turned to see that he wasn't following. She threw an order in at the driver and stomped through the crowded sidewalk towards us. The driver must have taken offense at her tone and the cab shot back out into the bustling traffic.

"Do you need anything?" He asked me, unaware of the whirlwind of blonde fury that was fast approaching.

I shook my head but he looked at me with an eyebrow raised in doubt. I tried to sort out the jumble of my brain but found I was unable to decide what my name was or where I lived. It's difficult to describe what having two separate identities mingling in your mind at once can do to your sanity. Every instinct I had was contradicted by my intellect. Marie knew that speaking to the man was the right thing to do; he could help her figure out where she was exactly and what had happened to bring her to this alley. Emma however, was wary of strangers and felt contempt at such an obviously wealthy man showing her sympathy.

"She's probably drunk, can we please go before you loose your wallet to her? Now, come on let's go!" The woman tapped her toe impatiently, wrinkling her nose in distaste at his concern for a vagabond.

He blushed, embarrassed at the way she spoke. I was burning with rage; she might have been safer waving a red flag at a bull. With Emma's instincts taking over I pushed myself up on to my feet to confront the hateful woman.

"Where do you get off talking to people like that? Who the hell do you think you are lady?!" In retrospect I think Emma actually may have been drinking before I came to inhabit her body. The adrenaline alcohol cocktail pumping through her - my - veins, was leaving me on edge. From the way the woman stepped back from me, I must have looked as crazed as I felt.

“Don’t you dare speak to me that way you piece of trash.”

Her words echoed in my brain. Trash. Someone else had called Emma that and she didn’t like hearing it one bit. I unconsciously took another step forward, my hands clenching into tight fists.

“Miranda. Why don’t I just meet you there?” Charlie stood, coming to stand between us. He placed a gentle hand on my arm, silently pleading with me to calm down.

The contact of his hand on my skin sent waves of panic through my body. I jerked away from him as if he’d bitten me. Miranda squeaked, mistaking the movement as an aggressive one towards her. She nodded to Charlie, and haughtily jutting out her chin, she strode away. Miranda, as it turned out, was all bark and no bite. Her heels clicked sharply against the pavement. She managed to look arrogant even in retreat.

As she made her exit, Charlie turned to face me. I drew away, afraid that he would try to touch me once again. I didn’t want contact.
Up until that point I had felt only half way inside my skin, as if I was only a tingle up someone’s spine as a cool breeze passed. His hand had pulled me all the way into Emma’s body and there was now no escape. I felt as if I’d been shoved, crumpled and jammed into a space that wasn’t large enough to contain me. It made it obvious that this body wasn’t mine and that I didn’t fit in my new form. I looked out from eyes that didn’t belong to me and the hands that I held out in front of my face weren’t familiar. The longer I inhabited Emma’s body, the less comfortable I felt.

Charlie continued to examine me, obviously not sure what to make of my reaction. His eyes made me feel vulnerable, like an animal frozen in place by approaching headlights. I clawed at my arms, my face and my body. I wanted out of this prison of flesh. I turned and ran down the alley, away from the man who made me feel so exposed. I didn’t want him to look at me; I wanted to disappear. I threw myself around a corner and hid behind a dumpster. I was crying freely and the tears prickled at my skin. My senses were heightened from fear, making the goose bumps that arose on my flesh feel like ants tracking up and down my arms.

When my tears were finally spent, I curled into a ball and lay on my side. I paid no attention to the filthy ground that I rested my head upon. I bit my lip in frustration, as I tried to deny what was happening, and tasted coppery blood. The pain was light but it gave me something to focus on, something that made the noise in my head fade to a light murmur. I bit down harder and dug my nails into my skin, making little half moons on my palms. I felt myself relax, the tension in my chest released and I fell into a deep sleep.



Groggily, I awoke in total blackness and lay still, trying to get my bearings. My back was sore from the hard surface on which I had fallen asleep and there was a dull ache in my head from a mild hangover. I felt momentarily embarrassed as I determined I must have been drinking that night and had not made it to my bed. The sound of tiny, scurrying feet snapped me to attention and the alley rushed back. My fingertips grazed the gritty asphalt and I became aware of the faint smell of rotting food. The fear I had felt earlier came rushing back and I rose to escape the creatures that were lurking in the dumpster beside me.

I made it around the corner before I tripped over my new feet and tumbled to the ground. I landed hard, my hands submerged in a shallow puddle of foul smelling water. I screamed out my frustrations to the night sky and I rose to pound at the walls, bruising my toes and bloodying my hands on the brick. People on the streets peered down the alleyway curiously as they passed but nobody stopped to intervene. I once again wore out my strength and flopped to the ground, leaning my back against the wall I had just finished pummeling. I rested my head on my knees, linking my hands behind my head so that my arms covered my ears. I hid in the silence for a while, concentrating on my breathing. Each intake made me feel steadier and more connected to my new body. I stood and decided it was time to face the truth. I made my way cautiously to the street. I turned to the first window I encountered and, bracing myself, looked at my reflection. The girl that stared back at me with sad eyes was pretty, but the years of living on the street had aged her face leaving her looking worn and tired. Her hair, a bright mane of red, was standing out in all directions. Her cheeks were smeared with dirt that contrasted the paleness of her skin. She was a skinny thing, and the rumble in my stomach awakened me to the fact that Emma hadn’t eaten in days.

The truth was undeniable now, and I feared that I had lost my mind. Was I always Emma? Did Marie ever exist? It was an appropriate time to get hysterical again, but I didn’t, I closed myself off from the rush of emotions.

“Are you going to tell me what happened to you?” Charlie asked as his reflection joined mine in the glass.

I gnawed at my sore lip, avoiding his eyes in the glass. A quick shake of my head was his only answer and it sent strands of damp hair falling to mask my face.

“What’s your name?” He reached out to place a comforting hand on my back but hesitated, no doubt remembering my previous reaction. He withdrew, and waited patiently for my response.

My name. He wanted to know my name. He must have taken my hesitation as a sign of distrust, so he didn’t push for me to reply. I realized that it was not him that I didn’t trust it was myself. I could at least reasonably assume that he was lucid; I had no such luxury when examining my own sanity. Since I was no longer sure if Marie was real or only a dream I chose the safer answer.

“Emma. Emma Williams.”

“Emma?” He smiled at me as the name flowed over his tongue. He shoved one hand in his pocket and the other smoothed his hair in a nervous gesture that, from the state of his floppy curls, I guessed he made a dozen times that day. “I’m feeling kind of hungry, you want to join me for a bite?”

I turned to my back to the glass and looked him over. His suit was rumpled and dirty and I wondered if he had been waiting for me on the street all day. I wasn’t sure if I should be touched by the gesture or creeped out. This was, after all, a gorgeous and wealthy man. What could he possible want with a crazy street waif?

My stomach eventually betrayed me, letting out an embarrassing rumble. He slapped a hand over his mouth, but his eyes gave him away as they danced with laughter.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckled. “Come on.”

“But I’m not…” The words trailed off as I rubbed at my dirtied cheeks and tried to straighten my disheveled clothes. I didn’t want people staring. They certainly would if they saw my damp jeans, with the knees ripped out, and my once white shirt that was now way beyond the help of Clorox. I didn’t want to even think about how I must have smelled.

“It’s alright, we can grab some take-out and go to my place. You can get cleaned up there.” This made me hesitate. Go to a man’s house by myself? More of Emma’s memories swam to the surface but one glimpse had me cramming them back down again. With my heart pounding, I stepped back from him. Charlie was charmingly sweet and good-looking, but it didn’t change the fact that he was a stranger. I was confused and scared that I would make a bad judgment.

Charlie saw the color drain from my face and the smile dropped from his. “It’s okay Emma. You’ll be safe with me. Besides, it’s better than the alternative isn’t it?” He waved a hand in the direction of the alley.

He had me there. I swallowed the hard lump in my throat and followed him down the street.

---------------------------------------------
Well, what does everyone think so far? It's small for a first chapter, but I'm sure, on revisiting it down the road, I'll be able to beef it up.
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Old 09-04-2003, 03:02 PM   #2
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Btw, I don't know if I'll be on the forums for the next week, Hurricane Fabian is looking to hit Bermuda dead on. eek. As I hear, the last big hurricane we had was Emily almost 10 years ago, and people went without electricity for upwards of three weeks.

Not sure I'll be able to survive without internet for that long A friend told me that the last time he lost power they unplugged the refridgerator from their generator to power the TV and playstation! Talk about interesting priorities!!
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Old 09-05-2003, 11:24 PM   #3
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I think that was very good. You were able to get my interest and keep it throughout the chapter. I look forward to reading more. I'd give you some constructive critcism but I really don't have any. I think you said "cleaned shaven" at one point and in my opinion "clean shaven" sounds better. But that's just a tiny detail.
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Old 09-06-2003, 12:03 AM   #4
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wow, very interesting. i liked it a lot, only a few minor things to work on. i actually liked your beginning and topic. lol, i just read the short story "a Man Called Dead" today in Lit so its pretty ironic im reading this, even though they do differ in someways... anyway, the topic is great, a fresh subject that keeps the reader hooked. can't wait to read more.
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Old 09-10-2003, 04:42 PM   #5
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More...

Still plugging away at it:
---------------------------------------------------------------------

The smell of burgers and fries filled the elevator was as we entered from the lobby of Charlie’s apartment building. My mouth gaped at the opulence of the interior design, not even Marie had seen such flagrant displays of wealth. It turned my stomach slightly to know that some people could throw their money around on such luxuries when others were starving on the streets below. That was New York though, people of such broad ranging social status living an arms length away from one another. At least that is what I’d always heard about New York. I was hardly in the position to judge however since Charlie was buying me dinner and offering a safe place for me to stay. I was still wary about his reasons, but was not in the position to refuse his help. I decided it was time I followed Marie’s instincts and put my faith in him that his intentions were honorable.

My cheeks pulled inwards, turning my full mouth into fish lips, as I sucked hard on the straw of my milkshake. Vanilla ice-cream is a food group all its own in my opinion, I was relieved to discover that Emma’s taste buds enjoyed it as well. The elevator doors closed and the sound of twinkling piano keys wafted from a speaker overhead. My eyes, traveling upwards to the round grate, narrowed in irritation at the cheery melody. The amused smile Charlie had donned on the street had followed him to Burger King and still remained plastered upon his face as we moved between the levels to the twelfth floor. He kept looking over at me, seeming to enjoy the rapture I took out of devouring my drink. I slurped the last drops from my cup noisily in unison with the elevator’s chime that announced our arrival. The doors opened slowly onto a warmly lit corridor. The walls were painted a cream hued white that matched perfect the spiral patterns sewn into the burgundy runner that lined the hallway. Charlie guided me the short distance to his door, which was labeled with a gold number forty-eight. I lingered in the safety of the hallway as he entered the dark apartment and began switching on a trail of lights to the large kitchen area.

“You going to stand out there all night?” He called over his shoulder as he placed the greasy paper bag on the black marble countertop.

I took a tentative step to cross the threshold. When I felt more comfortable I closed the door behind me, making sure to leave it unlocked. I took another step in, twisting my straw around my index finger as I mangled the other end with my teeth. A small droplet of ice cream oozed out the end and I quickly bent to wipe it from the beige carpet. Thankfully Charlie was too occupied with unpacking our cartons of fries to notice my blunder. As I bent over, I caught sight of the state of my shoes and pulled them off to avoid smearing dirt any further down the hall.

As I moved towards the kitchen I couldn’t help but be impressed at the size of his apartment. My previous conclusions about Charlie were confirmed, as I couldn’t even begin to calculate how much this kind of spaciousness would cost in such a crowded city. The plush carpeting covered the combined dining and living room space, tastefully complementing the deep blue walls and silver lamp fixtures. I stood at the center of the living room feeling like a backwoods hick as I drooled over his widescreen television. Marie had loved movies and Charlie must have bought every DVD ever produced. I had an urge to run my hands over the edges of their covers and flip through his magazines. The collection took up six, double lined shelves of the black entertainment center.

Charlie came into the room carrying a tray loaded with our take-out and some soda and beer. He bypassed the six-place dining room table and rested the tray on the coffee table, sinking down onto a soft black couch. Not wanting to ruin his leather furniture, I sank to my knees on the floor across the table from him.

“Dig in.” He said, picking up his own hamburger.

As I tore into the packaging of my Whopper I heard a mother’s words about good table manners echoing in my head. Marie’s parents had been insistent that she be polite, keeping her elbows of the table and always remembering to not talk with her mouth full. My hunger overrode all thoughts of Marie’s upbringing and I shoved a handful of fries into my overstuffed mouth in between bites of hamburger. Food had never tasted this good before, and I felt quite giddy as I swallowed deeply from a can of Coke. Charlie nibbled at his food, quietly observing the scene I was making. He still seemed amused by my behavior, which annoyed me but didn’t distract from my mission of devouring everything on the tray. I swiped at my mouth with the back of my hand, not caring about the dots of ketchup that landed on my already filthy zippered sweatshirt. When I was finished gorging myself, Charlie gathered up the paper wrappers and empty cans and carried them back to the kitchen. I crawled over to the couch, resting my heavy head back on the cushion.

“Hey now Sleepy.” He nudged me gently with his knee. “Why don’t you take a shower first? You’ll probably sleep better.” I nodded and followed him to the bathroom, passing his bedroom on the way. I caught a glimpse of his large bed with a black duvet and rubbed at my tired eyes. He was right however that I was in more desperate need of soap and water. The bathroom had a shower stall on one side and a deep Jacuzzi tub on the other. I moved towards the shower since I wasn’t particularly in the mood to fall asleep and drown in the tub. There was a pile of towels rested on the counter by a double sink. Charlie picked one up and passed it to me then opened a perfectly organized draw and extracted a fresh bar of soap. He found a new toothbrush still in it’s wrapper and rested it by the sink.

“Well, I’ll just be out there if you need me.” He ran a hand through his hair again and backed out the door. I pushed the button on the door handle listening for the comforting click.

I closed my eyes in ecstasy as the warm stream of water pounded my back, easing the tension from my shoulders. The shampoo lathered into a mountain of bubbles as I scrubbed, having used too much for my now short hair. I scrubbed my body free of street grime and fast-food grease, feeling as if I was peeling away a filmy second skin. I stepped out from the stall onto a warm bathmat and wiggled my toes on the soft material. I used a sponge I found under the sink to wipe away the ring of dirt from the bottom of the shower.

Feeling more human, I unwrapped the toothbrush and went to work on my teeth. I made weird faces at myself in the mirror as I examined my teeth. Marie had a lot of cavities as a child and my teeth had been dotted with black and gold fillings. Emma, ironically, had none and her teeth were much straighter and evenly spaced. This confused me slightly, as I did have Emma’s memories but was surprised to not see those little gold crowns. I could not separate out what was definitely Emma’s and what was definitely Marie’s. I pulled my towel off and inspected the rest of my body. My strawberry birthmark was no longer above my left hip instead I found a small round coffee stain mark on my lower back. My breasts were full but not as large as they appeared to be against my skinny ribs. My bones jutted out through thin skin, reminding me that the hard life had been lived by Emma. Marie had lived comfortably and, while not rich, had not ever gone without food, clothing or a secure home.

I finger combed my hair, smoothing it down to my chin and then tucking it behind my ears. There was a tentative knock on the door. I wrapped myself back into my towel and opened the door, peering out around it into the hall.
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Thanks for reading this far!!
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Old 09-14-2003, 07:09 PM   #6
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That was really good! A few spelling errors, but otherwise pretty much flawless to my eyes. I look forward to reading more!
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Old 09-14-2003, 11:45 PM   #7
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I really, really enjoyed reading this thus far. I look forward to popping in and reading more. I think the story idea is creative and compelling, and I like the way that you've handled it. Few things frustrate me more than reading good ideas in the hands of authors who butcher their own work... I especially enjoy that it's starting to seem like the main character is emerging as neither Marie, who she used to be, or Emma, who she sort of is now. Rather she seems to be using them each as a source of memories and personality traits which she chooses from as needed. I look forward to seeing where you take this. In addition, I appreciate the conflict of the two very different personalities inside her as they battle for control of this one body. It's got a nice schizophrenic feel to it.

One thing I'm not quite convinced of however is the character Charlie... he's nicely written thus far but I don't yet buy that he would randomly take her back to his apartment, unless he knew something about her that she didn't know...perhaps he knew a little about Emma from before, or whatever. But as someone who lives in New York City (and perhaps you live in or have lived in NYC too, in which case maybe you know where I'm coming from), I'm not convinced that this man dressed in a nice suit living a respectable life in a nice apartment would take this girl back home with him. Not only is she acting a little nuts (I would assume if I saw someone behave like this and living on the streets that it probably had something to do with drugs, everyone's favorite whipping boy...), but taking a strange girl back to your house, no matter how much she seems like she needs it and how nice a guy you might be, is just asking for it. Not to say I don't think I CAN be convinced...I'm just not yet. It seems like if he has honorable intentions, he should be a bit more hesitant. I also wonder why he would hang around for her all day waiting for her to wake up in the alley, if that's what he did. Seems like maybe that should be explained...maybe he left and came back, maybe he just went into the Starbucks across the street and drank coffee and worked on his laptop and occasionally looked up to see if she was awake yet, whatever. Perhaps you plan to cover some of these things in stuff yet to come...
Anyway, ...I'd love to see more...
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Old 09-17-2003, 03:06 PM   #8
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Mmmmm.... nice and dark . I like the idea ! I'm really enjoying

reading it . Thanks
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Old 09-19-2003, 01:22 PM   #9
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Here's some more...let me know what you think!
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“Here.” Charlie passed me a pile of clothes that were warm from the dryer. The held the pleasant smell of fabric softener. “You can wear these tonight.”

When I exited the bathroom, warmly bundled in his sweatpants and a T-shirt, Charlie was on the phone. He spoke quietly, but I could tell from the way he paced the length of his bedroom that the conversation was upsetting him. Not wanting to intrude, I padded quietly to the couch and snuggled down onto one of the cushions. The heavy meal and warm shower acted like an anesthetic. My worries were temporarily forgotten as I drifted to sleep.

I was roused only brief in the night by the feeling of strong arms surrounding me. I nuzzled into the hollow of his neck as he pulled me close to him. Charlie carried me to the bedroom and placed me gently down on the bed. I felt the heavy goose down comforter being tucked down on top of me before I returned to sleep.

The scent of fresh brewing coffee wafted under the bedroom door. I squeaked as I stretched the kinks out of my back, hands reaching up to push against the headboard of the bed. I was disoriented as I realized I was not on the couch. I bolted up in bed, pulling the comforter around me for protection. When my heart rate had slowed, I made my way out to the kitchen. Charlie was crunching his way through a bowl of cereal, the morning paper spread out in front of him on the kitchen counter. He stood in sock feet, a t-shirt and sweatpants. It was a startling contrast with the sleek suit he had worn the previous day. He looked up as I entered and offered me a half-hearted smile. Something was bothering him. I shifted from foot to foot, pulling at my bed hair as he rinsed his bowl in the sink. He pulled another coffee mug from the cupboard above his head.

“Good Morning.” I spoke softly, nearly a whisper. This brightened his face a fraction more and he put the full mug on the counter in front of a stool opposite him. I sat and wrapped my hands around the steaming cup, capturing the warmth between my hands. The apartment wasn’t cold, but I was. I felt chilled right down into my middle.

“Thanks for last night.” My eyes remain firmly affixed to my hands. My nails were suddenly fascinating. Marie had not been vain but had made sure to be well groomed. Emma’s nails were chewed down impossibly short and the skin of her fingers was broken and curled around the sides.

“Well, I’d prefer an explanation to a thank you. But I guess it’ll do.” I squirmed on my stool. I wanted to talk to him but I couldn’t decide what to say. I didn’t want to lie but I was positive that telling the truth would land me in an institution. I needed to find out what was going on. Was Marie a delusion of mine? Was I having a psychotic episode? Or was something more terrifying happening; was I sane? I needed answers and maybe he could help me get them. Emma didn’t have any family or friends in New York and certainly didn’t have any money.

“I got some bad news, that’s all.” I said, looking up to meet his eyes. I brought the mug to my lips and took a long sip to fill the silence. I could tell he was skeptical about my statement.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He probed, his forehead furrowed.

“Someone died.” The words made my heart skip. I had died. The panic gripped me. Saying it out loud made it more real.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” He backed down. He looked a bit ashamed at having pushed for my revelation. His fingers fiddled with the edges of the newspaper, tearing the thin sheets slightly. “Was it someone close to you?”

“Sort of.” Wow. What an understatement that was. I swallowed hard. “Actually. I’m not totally sure that she’s dead.” His eyebrow rose at that. “It’s just something I heard secondhand you see, so I’m not completely convinced.” I started rambling, not quite sure how to convince him. I had never been a good liar.

I drained the last of my coffee and he moved to refill it, empting the last drops from the pot. There was a sharp knock at the door. Charlie’s shoulders dipped as he sighed.

“Um, Emma?” He came around the counter to direct me off my stool. He lead me across the room with a gentle hand on my back. “Can you just stay out of sight for a minute.” The sharp knocking turned into pounding, and a woman’s voice rattled in between the fist falls. Her voice was muffled but obviously irritated.

Charlie closed the bedroom door behind him. I sat on the floor by the door and pulled it open a crack, just enough to be able to see what was going on. I felt guilty spying on him but couldn’t resist the temptation.

Miranda stormed into the apartment past Charlie as the door swung door open. Her blond hair was swept off her neck into an elegant twist. Today she wore a bright turquoise silk shirt and a black A-line skirt. Her black heels added an additional three inches to her height, lengthening her already perfectly shaped legs. Her fingers were decorated with heavy gold rings, one inlaid with diamonds that flashed as she waived an irritated hand at Charlie.

“Where the hell were you yesterday?” Her voice was shrill, making Charlie and I wince in unison. “God, you’ve got no sense of responsibility Charlie. Do you have any idea what you put me through? This is the third meeting you’ve missed in the last month. You’ve got to stop acting like such a child.”

Charlie sunk down onto the arm of the couch, allowing Miranda to berate him, not offering a single word in his own defense.

Miranda scowled at his silence. She huffed, dropping her leather handbag onto the coffee table. Her eyes drifted first to my shoes resting by the front door, to the kitchen counter where my coffee cup sat opposite his. She strode over to the counter, picking up my cup and turning to Charlie. She glared at him in accusation. He stood nervously, moving forward with his arms raised as if in submission.

“Uh, there’s a reasonable…”

She never let him finish. Instead she hurled the cup at him, drenching the carpet in the process.

“Where is she? My God. There I was yesterday making excuses to our father about why you were letting him down once again.” She jabbed a finger in his chest. “And the whole time you were here with some floozy. Where the hell is she?” Miranda swiveled on one foot and came storming towards the bedroom door. I scrambled to my feet and flung myself into the corner, bracing myself against the wall as the door was thrown open. Miranda’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of my thin frame swimming in Charlie’s clothes.

----------------------------------------
hehe. I love setting up a character to look like they are one thing and then turn out to be another...bet ya never guessed that Miranda was Charlie's sister!
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Old 11-14-2003, 06:02 PM   #10
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Really a great story. I hope you continue it.
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Old 11-16-2003, 04:12 PM   #11
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This is truly fantastic so far. The situation is so abstract, yet so realistic at the same time. Surrealistic stories are all the more engaging, really drawing the reader into the characters’ circumstance.

Speaking of which, I can't think of a better way to develop your characters than to have the reader learn their intricacies along side them. It adds a greater sense of involvement as if you’re inside the character’s head—although Emmarie’s is already looking a little full.

Great work. Keep it up, even if it does have to be written by candlelight.
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