View Full Version : The Girl Named Anarchy

May 22nd, 2015, 04:19 PM
Lightning bolts cut across the sky and thunder following right after. Howling winds guilds the coming storm towards a city in the northeastern states. The clouds’ looming shadows reach over the skyscrapers as if the fingers of Death itself were trying to grasp the city.

Neila walks down the empty road with an umbrella in hand. The wind plays with her long brunette hair and tugs on the bottom of her dress. With each step taken, she begins to find it harder and harder to keep going forward against the unseen force pushing her. A sudden strong burst of wind slams against. The impact nearly knocks her off of her feet. Neila stumbles back a few paces before regaining her footing. She spots an alleyway just ahead of her current location.

She focuses her sight onto the alley and match against the wind towards it. What felt like forever, Neila finally mange to make it to her destination. Pulling herself off of the street’s sidewalk, finding the power of the wind has greatly decreased. No longer threaten by the strong winds; she takes the moment to catch her breath and rest her tired legs.

A bright flash lights up the alley as clear as day and thunder rattles the air in. The lightning lights up the alley and chases away the shadows. Soon all that can be heard was the howling wind. The shadows return, reclaiming the passageway they were chased from. She stood still looking up at the storm clouds and feels a drop of water land between her eyes.

“Good thing I brought my umbrella.” Neila says out loud with a smile.

She opens her umbrella and starts walking down the alleyway amongst the rain. As she walks, she notices a piece of paper on the ground. Neila looks at it and reads: Have you seen me? My name is Muchitsujo. And picture of a girl about her age with Asian features between the question and name. She picks up the flier from the wet ground, studying it as she resumes walks.


Muchitsujo looks up at the storm clouds as she stands in the pouring rain with a spray can in hand. The cold drops splatter on her face and runs down her face. The steams of rain water pass her midnight blue lips and drench her multi-color hair. Her black leather jacket repels the rain. The hems of her cargo pants and military boots are wet from the puddle forming at her feet. The wind pushes against her as it blows down the empty street.

Turning her attention to the wall in front of her, her dark brown eyes look upon a bright yellow A. A clockwise circle starting at the bottom right of the A and cutting sharply through the A before it could complete the circle. Muchitsujo stares at her master piece. The smell of the fresh paint is carried off into the night by the wind. Lines of yellow bleed down the wall. Proud of her art, she grabs her bag from where it sits.

She walks down the side walk as she fumbles getting the spray can into the bag. The wind batters against her, making it hard on Muchitsujo to walk straight. With no choice, she hurries for the first alley she spots. She turns into the alley while her attention is still on her bag. She feels her arm bump against something and her spray can slips from her hand. The sound of metal on pavement rings out. Looking over, she realizes that she has bumped into a girl in a white dress.

“Sorry.” Muchitsujo says kneeling over to pick up the can.

Grabbing hold of the can, Muchitsujo begins to feel uneasy. She looks over her shoulder to see the hem of the white dress of the girl. Her eyes move up the girl. She notes the little white purse striped across the girl’s chest. When her eyes reached the girl’s face a lightning bolt lights up the surrounding. Upon the girls face is a gentle smile and the light shines around her head. The light fads as quickly as it came and Muchitsujo pushes herself off the ground. She looks at the girl for a brief moment. She turns and hurries off through the pouring rain.


Neila stands in the alley watching Muchitsujo walk out on the other side. She looks down at the flier in her hand, her smile still on her face. She studies it for a few seconds and looks after Muchitsujo. Neila starts laughing as she walks after her in the pouring rain.


The rain continues to fall around Neila as she watches Muchitsujo, from around a corner of a nearby building, as she enters abandon warehouse.
There is a click from Neila’s cell phone closing. She places it inside of her purse next to the fold flier. When the door is pulled shut behind Muchitsujo, Neila steps out from where she was. She walks toward her destination. Water splashes under her feet. Crossing the open area left her with little protection from the wind. The wind pushes against her umbrella. She looks upon the old building. The walls’ paint is beginning to chip and blow away in the wind. The windows are either broken or cracked.

Upon reaching the door she takes hold of the handle. The cold metal sends a chill to her bones. Slowly applying strength, she begins to pull the door open to find it unwilling to move. Keeping the umbrella in her other hand as she takes hold of the handle with both hands and tugs at it. Her muscles begin to tire. Desperate, she leads back. With all of her weight pulling on it, the door finally opens a crack. A dim light shines out from the opening.
Neila lets go of the door, feeling how sore her muscles are. Letting them rest, she peaks through the crack. She sees cardboard and trash are scattered on top of the floor. Steel pillars that touch the ceiling have patches of rust on them. Wiring sit in coiled up piles on the floor and go off into the unknown. The interior of the warehouse matches the exterior; the whole of the inside is in chaos. From her vantage point, she can barely make out what appears to be a circle of lights.

“Where did she go?” Neila asks out loud.

She continues to spy through the opening. Not seeing the multi-hair girl anywhere, Neila returns to pulling the door open. The metal door scraps along the ground. With a few tugs, she manages to open the door wide enough for her to slip through. She looks inside once more before entering. Seeing the coast is clear, Neila steps through sideways leaving the hand with the umbrella sticking out. Closing it and bringing into the warehouse.
She starts to turn to see the rest of the interior. She sees Muchitsujo standing before her. Her sudden appearance startles Neila and on impose she swings her umbrella. Her swing stops suddenly. She looks down it to see Muchitsujo holding it. Muchitsujo yanks on it, making Neila stumble pass her. Along the way, she feels the other girl jabbing her wrist. The action made her lose her grab on the umbrella. She soon regains her balance and turns to face Muchitsujo. Her skin turns cold with fear when she found the end of her umbrella pointing at her neck. Neila looks into Muchitsujo’s cold dark eyes.

“Who the heck are you and why are you in my home?” Muchitsujo demands.


Muchitsujo tightens her grab on the umbrella. She quickly looks over the intruder from head to toe. She notes on Neila’s face a line of freckles going across her nose. She notices the girl in white starting to shake.

“I said, ‘who are you and why are you here’?”

“I’m…I’m Neila and I’m here because of this.” She says reaching for her purse.
Muchitsujo eyes narrow as she watches Neila. Her eyes follow Neila’s hand entering the purse and as it searches for something. When she sees that a fold piece of paper being pulled out. Neila unfolds the paper and turns it around so Muchitsujo can see. Her arm wavers and she steps back upon seeing the contents of the flier.

“How did you get that? I got rid of all of them.”

“Well you missed one.” Neila says with a smile.

Muchitsujo lowers the umbrella to her side and walk towards Neila. With one hand she slaps the umbrella on her chest, making Neila take hold of it. With the other, Muchitsujo rips the paper out of Neila’s hand.

Ripping it up, she says. “Leave.”

“Umm, no. I think I’ll stay.”

Muchitsujo stops in mid step. Looking back at Neila, her dark eyes show hints of anger. “What did you say?”

Neila swallows before she replies. “I said I’m not leaving and you’re going to let me stay.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because, if you don’t I’ll call the cops and tell them I was kidnapped and assaulted by the girl from the missing person fliers.”

“Go ahead. They’ll find out you were lying in no time flat.”

“You think so?” Neila asks smiling.

Muchitsujo turns to face Neila to find her eyes watering up. Tears start to run down her face. Muchitsujo watches confused about what is happening. Neila didn’t wait long to start sobbing.

“Officer, it was horrible…she abducted me and took some old warehouse.” Her voice cracking as she speaks. “She hit me and… and she threatened to do horrible things to me with my umbrella.”

Neila stops talking as she forces her crocodile tears to stop. Wiping her checks and nose, she smiles at Muchitsujo.

“Now imagine that act with a few bruise and a torn dress. I’ll have the cops eating out of my hand.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing, now can I stay or do I have to make the phone call?”

Muchitsujo bites her lower lip till she tasted blood. Her knees begin to shake when she sees Neila produce her cell phone. Neila holds the phone beside her head and smiles again. Seeing no way out of the predicament that was force upon her, Muchitsujo lowers her head in submission.

“You win.”

“Thank you. Is there a place I can sit down?”


“Lead the way then.”

Muchitsujo turns and walks toward the light source. Her hands tighten into fist as Neila walks happily behind her. She leads Neila deeper into the warehouse. Taking her pass the old PIT (powered industrial trucks) charge stations and to a cleared mock stage area. The area is surrounded by lights and in the area is covered with Muchitsujo’s A’s of various colors. On the other side is her make shift living space. A leather couch, a wooden crate, and a table chair make up her living space. Without stopping, Muchitsujo walks across the mock stage.


Neila follows her host over the A’s. Just behind the living area are shelves still holding their goods. She sees on the far end of the warehouse shelves that reach twenty to thirty feet high. Upon reaching the chair, Muchitsujo holds her hand out to the chair.

“You can sit here.” Muchitsujo says continuing walking to the couch.

“Thank you, umm. How do you say your name?” Neila asks taking her sit.

“My name is pronounced Mu-chi-tsu-jo.”

“Mu-chit-sujo. That’s an odd name.”

“It isn’t Mu-chit-sujo, it’s Mu-chi-tsu-jo.” She says sitting down. “And it is not an odd name. It is a Japanese one.”

“Oh.” Neila says trying to avoid eye contact. “What does it mean?”

“It means chaos, disorder, confusion. In other words, my name means anarchy.”

“Why would someone name their child Much-itsu…”

“Stop, you may have force yourself into staying but I’m not going to sit here and listen to you butcher my name. So just call me Anarchy.”
Muchitsujo interrupts her. “And I don’t know why mine gave it to me.”

“Okay Anarchy.”

Neila sits in her chair with a smile as she stares at Anarchy. She looks over her want-to-be rocker outfit. She notices that she is upset. Neila props her umbrella against the crate and leans back.

“Bet you are still trying to figure out why I’m doing this. So I’ll tell you, on one condition.”

Anarchy looks up at her with a suspicious look. “What would that be?”

“Unzip you jacket.” She watches Anarchy face turn red. Her hands grab the zipper and squeeze. “I don’t feel all that safe with your jacket zipped up.

You might have a concealed weapon or something.”

“I don’t care if you feel safe or not. I’m keeping my jacket zipped.”

“Okay then. Excuse me; I have to make a phone call.”

Neila flips open her phone. She presses two numbers before looking at Anarchy. Hearing her grunt, Neila watch is her unwillingly unzip her jacket. The sound of the zipper fills the air. Anarchy stops just above the end of the zipper. She still holds both sides of her black jacket together.

“There, happy?”

“No, you’re still holding your jacket together.” Neila replies.

Anarchy bares her teeth at her unwelcome house guess. Only to see her taunt her phone at in response to Anarchy’s baring her teeth. She hinds her teeth and closes her eyes. She feels her blood rushes to her face as she opens her jacket. She hears Neila chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” Anarchy demands.

“Your shirt.” Neila says pointing at her. “I figure you would be wearing a skull tee-shirt or something. Not a My Little Pony one.”

“So what? I can wear whatever I want to. And I didn’t figure you for a manipulating person.” Anarchy’s face red with embarrassment.

“I know. I try my best.”

“I’ve done what you wanted. Now tell me why you are here.”

“Sure. But what’s all with those A’s?” Neila says pointing at all the painted A’s behind her.

“What does my A have to do with why you are here?”

“I’m just curious. Does it stand for anything? I want to say it stands for abduction.”

“No.” Anarchy says with irritation. “It stands for anarchy.”

“Anarchy? Seems kind of a weird and violent thing for it to stand for. Why do you want to have it stand for your name?”

“It is for the word anarchy not my name.”

“So you are an anarchist then.”

“Yeah guess I am.” Anarchy states in agreement.

“Why do you want to spread anarchy, Anarchy?”

“If I explain this to you will you tell me way you are here?”

“Yes, I’ll tell you.” Neila answers.

“Find. I don’t like our current system. The rich get richer. Those with power decide what justice is and denying equal rights to every group and allowing others have special rights.”

“I know all that isn’t very fair. But I fail to see why you want to bring about anarchy.”

“It’s because of all that and more our economy is in the shape it is.” Anarchy gestures to the warehouse. “This place use to be a thriving company. It gave many people jobs to support their families. Now look at what it has become. The owners made some risky business calls and nearly went bankrupt. That’s when a third party came along and bought the company. The new owners slapped a closed sign on the front door and fired all of the employees. They were in such a hurry they just what was still here on the shelves. The worst part is that the workers didn’t get anything for their trouble.”

“That explains where you got you couch. Why are you here anyways?”

“What does any of this have to do with you being in my home?”

“Nothing, I’m just curious about why you have your own missing person fliers.”

“Because I’m ‘missing’ that’s why I have them.” Anarchy replies sarcastically.

Neila narrows her eyes. “I know that. Why are you missing or did you just runaway?”

“I ran away. And before you ask why, it is because of my parents.”

“So you had an abusive house hold then.”

“You could say that. They are the strict type of parents. Trying to control every part of my life, from how I dress to what my future career would be. When they weren’t focus on me they were at each other’s throats. I could take it so I left in the middle of the night and never looked back.”

“Huh, that’s nothing like my family. My parents just want me to be happy.”

“Well good for you.” Anarchy says looking away from Neila. “Speaking of your family, shouldn’t you be getting back to them? They might be getting worried about you.”

“Nope. I don’t have to hurry back any time soon. I called home when I watch you enter this warehouse.” Neila explains with an innocent smile.

“Though speaking of them, they are kind of the reason why I’m here.”

“What do you mean?”

Anarchy turns her full attention to the girl in the white dress. Setting with her arms resting on her knees, she waits impatiently for her explanation.


“I need you to be my friend.” Neila states plainly.

She watches almost fall forward. Letting out a little chuckle in her amusement of what Anarchy did.

“You need me to be your what?”

“My friend. My parents often worry about me not having any friends at the academy I go to. So I told them I have one so they’ll stop bring it up.”

“Sounds like a problem that you already solve.”

“Not quite. They believe I have real friend, that they want me to bring her over for dinner. And I’m running out of excuses. That’s where you come in.”

“Why would I be your friend?” Anarchy asks.

Neila points her phone at Anarchy and snapped a picture. “Because if you don’t I’m going to tell the cops and your family where you are.”

“Why would you do that? What have I done to you?” Anarchy demands standing up, her fists tighten.

“Nothing.” Neila replies calmly. “I’m doing this because I can.”

“You’re just a selfish person.”

“Yep. And you don’t have a choice if you don’t want to go to jail or back to your family.”

“I’ll just leave. I’ve been on the street long enough to know where to hide.”

“So, I have a picture of you. I’ll just give it to your family and the news stations will air your face.” She shows the picture of Anarchy on her phone as proof.

Neila smiles at Anarchy as she watches her lower her fists. Silence fills the warehouse as the rain outside starts to die down. Seeing her host falls back onto the couch and staring blankly, Neila recognizes her victory. She pulls her purse up beside her. Looking it to it, she pulls out a second phone. She sets it down on the crate as she stands up.

“This is for you. It’s a burner phone I got to send text to myself.” Neila explains as she grabs her umbrella. “Keep this with you at all times and response when I text you. I’ll give you the charger later.”

“And if I don’t, you go to the cops and my parents, right.” Anarchy says numbly.

“That’s right. Also, my phone is set up to notify me when you get and read my text.” Neila turns to leave but stops after one step. “Oh, by the way, I told my parents that my friends name is Tina.”


Anarchy watches her new “friend” walk towards the exit that was left ajar. Anxiety and fear builds up inside of her. Hot tears start to run down her face. She buries her face in to her shaking hands. She sits on her couch, unable to move. Without warning, the phone left behind for her goes off.
She stares at the phone as it rings. She looks up to see Neila slipping outside and disappearing. The ringing stops, bringing silence as it does. Anarchy reaches out with a shaking hand and takes hold of the phone. She flips open the phone and reads the text message.

“Don’t be so sad. This is going to fun. P.S you don’t have to reply to this one.”

Anarchy drops her arms. “What am I going to do know?”


Neila dials her phone. Walking away from the warehouse, she hears the other side answers. “Hey daddy, I got great news. My friend Tina can come over for dinner this Sunday.”

Harper J. Cole
May 23rd, 2015, 02:59 PM
A lighter story this time. Some good dialogue and fewer typos; good work. :thumbr:


May 23rd, 2015, 03:25 PM
Ok a couple of things:

1: Nelia seems a bit too prepared and it seems like she is pulling curve balls out of nowhere and it is hard to get a grip on her at all. Instead of the beginning of the story it seems like we are in the second chapter with Nelia being a lot more fleshed out.

2: Anarchy.....for someone that had a tough and strict life her name doesn't match at all and makes her seem edgy for the sake of being edgy. Next her revealed purpose for caring about the warehouse and for running away seem paper thin. If her father had worked there and got fired then became abusive and tedious because of it and forced her to run away that has a little more substance. As of now, I can't take her seriously as a character. With her first confrontation with Nelia I fell like for someone that been on the streets should have been able to at least talk her down or maybe fight her, it completely undermines Anarchy mental strength and reasons she has survived on the streets for as long as she had.


Add a prologue with Anarchy and Nelia seperate paths, a light backstory, maybe a day in their lives to give the story more weight .

Nelia is bordering on Mary Sue.....tone her down a bit and ground her with at least a few more character flaws or something more realistic.

Nelia feels like the Main Lead of the story and with the stuff you have just wrote unless her father or mother or family member is a detective, hacker, in the FBI or CIA she should not just have burner phones and advanced manipulation techniques.

Brian A Seals
May 23rd, 2015, 04:43 PM
Hey Silence, Seals here.

Before I talk about the work, just a quick note about your use of the language. In English, fiction is typically written in the past tense.

In other words, you should write your stories like they have already happened, and not like the story is happening while you are reading it. For example, let's look at the passage below.


Neila stands in the alley watching Muchitsujo walk out on the other side. She looks down at the flier in her hand, her smile still on her face. She studies it for a few seconds and looks after Muchitsujo. Neila starts laughing as she walks after her in the pouring rain.


This should read: Neila stood in the alley, watching Muchitsujo walk out of the other side. She looked down at the flier in her hand, her smile still on her face. She studied it for a few seconds and looked for Muchitsujo. Neila started laughing, as she walked after her in the pouring rain.

The best advice I could give you, is to examine what you read. Take another look at your favorite book. After you've read the first chapter and take in the story once more, go back and take a close look at how it's written. English is my first and only language, but unfortunately, I'm not too good at explaining all of the rules, because I honestly don't know them. Still, I can often tell when a sentence is wrong, or can be improved, because I have read - A LOT. There's no real shortcut; great writers have to write and read a lot, so be sure to do plenty of both.

On the plus side, I can say that you have a real good feeling for dialogue, and that it reads better than the rest of your work. Instead of telling the story to us, in third-person, consider practicing writing, from a character's perspective. I think if you wrote this story, as if you were Anarchy or Neila, you would be playing to your strengths. Your dialogue is where your talent is, in my opinion, and I think you should focus on that.

May 24th, 2015, 12:53 AM
I am not the best to talk about grammatical errors(my mechanics suck mainly because I hate proofreading my own work but regardless) I hope you wanted critcism on the content as well. Don't think I am bashing your story or talking it down I just believe that it can be more believable and grounded. Fantasy/Horror to me at least has to be the most grounded out of all genres because you can lose your reader very quickly with entirely new subjects with little or nothing for the reader to hold the character in their mind(unless they are aliens....but that is a different story). I agree the the dialogue is tight but I also want you get recognize your flaws and strengthen them to make your writing tighter, as I hope all writers here would value.

May 24th, 2015, 01:33 AM
I wrote this back in the fall for my creative writing class. That's why it would be one of my better stories. I posted it Fantasy/Horror out of habit. When I'm done working this week, I'll start working on a prologue.

- - - - - - - - update - - - - - - - - -

One of the reason why I post on here is for the criticism.

May 26th, 2015, 05:27 PM
I agree with Seals here, at least on the subject of tense. I was not able to get past the first few paragraphs of the story, so I cannot really give you any feedback on the story itself. I was intrigued by it, but your choice of tense was very difficult for me to read. I spent so much time getting hung up by the present tense and language, that I was not getting the story itself.


May 27th, 2015, 12:28 PM
I agree on the tense but do like the dialogue.

To make it more believable the two characters need more substance, Anarchy should be strong and street smart, a cell phone threat should not be the main topic. Neilia also had no power behind the threat, she seems weak and could not handle herself if the phone was taken out of her hands.

Painting in the rain storm felt out of place, the warehouse also felt as a second thought.

Other than that I enjoyed it!
Great job!