Mirror Girl, a One Way Ticket to Insanity

Chapter 1
Mirror, Mirror

I stared into the jet black glassiness of the mirror.
My heartbeat increased. My breathing deepened. I placed my hands on the glass. My black nail varnish chipped, my shoulders arched. A small trickle of blood sliding down the mirror. My head down towards the sink. Looking through my hair at my reflection. Giving me that threatening look I knew. The headache started. The dark circles under my eyes making me look even worse.
My eyeliner was smudged. My eyes wide. The sickly light giving them a manic glint. My black hair damp and how I did not know. My red streaks sticking to my face. I was white. A sickly pallor I knew too well. I had that smile on my face again. The Charles Manson smile that both empowered and terrified me. I gave a humourless laugh. My brown eyes fixed on this sinister figure in a black hoodie. The same eyes. The same face. The same threatening smile. I laughed coldly again.
Was I going back?
“Hello, Andrea. Remember me? We used to be friends” My reflection said.
No.
No!
NO!
I had to fight.
“You were never my friend” I hissed.
“Oh yes I was. We were best friends. Nobody knew you like I did.”
“You never knew me. You were just a shadow. You did me no favours”
“I was there for you”
“No you weren’t”
I was shaking now. I hated that voice. She was so calm it made me powerless. This fight had to stop. And I had to win. Or I was done for.
“You’re not there” I whispered. I was still smiling the Charles Manson smile.
“Now you know you don’t mean that” the mirror girl said. “I am real. I’m your friend.”
I felt my strength ebbing away. Was I giving in?
NO! I MUSTN’T GIVE IN!
“Fear is in my mind. She is in my mind. She’s not real”
“Yes. Fear is in your mind and so am I. But I’m real enough to speak to you. Don’t fight me. I’m your friend. You know you want to give in”
I felt my eyes glaze over. My hands shook. I was losing the war. Fear gripped me. I can’t lose. I looked down at the sink the fresh blood from my hand dripping down. The knife lying cheerfully on the counter stained with my red fear. I hadn’t meant to but she had made me. This couldn’t go on.

“JAMIE!” I called desperately over my shoulder my breathing increasing. The voice “I’m you’re friend” still ringing in my head. I placed my cold yet clammy hand on my forehead.
Jamie came skidding into view, “What, what, what?!” his black trainers squeaking along the polished wooden floor of the hall. His black hair with a brown fringe swishing. His black pinstriped blazer flapping like wings of a shadowy dove. He looked puzzled.
But that’s when he took a moment to really see what was wrong. My deep breathing, my pale face, my hand on my forehead, my other hand leaning on the mirror the trickle of blood running in a straight line down to the sink.
“Oh my god” He said quietly. It was all he had to say. He approached me cautiously and placed a hand on my shaking shoulder. His grip was firm to steady me.

Jamie knew I was schizophrenic.

The only friend I had. Everybody else wanted nothing to do with me. They all thought I was too insane to be spoken to. And they usually talked about me not to me. Their talk was cold but it burnt all the same.
Jamie pulled my hand off the mirror, a crimson print was left. He turned on the water, washed the cut and bandaged me up. With a bit of effort Jamie managed to get me away from the mirror. He sat me down on the squashy sofa. The lights were off which for some reason I found comforting. He took a look at my face, “Fuck! You look white!” Jamie knew me so well he could tell instantly when something was wrong.
I seemed to have lost the power of speech. I couldn’t speak. All I could do was sit there and stare at him, my breathing slowing. Jamie tried another approach, “Are you OK?”
“I…” my hands began to shake again. He held my shaking, cold hands. Suddenly there was a flash of a face with a ghostly complexion and red eyes I heard a short scream and I gave a gasp. I threw my arms around Jamie’s shoulders my breathing fast and shallow, “I… I need… I need help” I whispered.
“Help?” Jamie said nonplussed.
“She says she’s my friend.” I continued to speak softly as I pointed in the direction of the bathroom mirror. “But she’s not. She wants to hurt me. She did this to me” I held up my hand bandaged but blood stained and painful. “She fights with me. She wants me to let her take over. She wants me to surrender the fight. She wants me to do as she says. But I know what will happen if I let her. And I need you to help me. I just saw her face. She’s angry with me. She still wants to fight me. Save me.” I gave a sob. “I need you to help me win. Please! Don’t let me lose who I am” I begged in a frightened whisper.
Jamie hugged me tight; I buried my face in his shoulder.
“I… I’m your friend” said a voice from my mouth. It wasn’t me. Jamie pulled away and looked at me, “Yes and I’m your friend” trying to humour me.
“Uh, that wasn’t me”
“You said it. I heard you. You said it very weirdly though, like you were trying to freak me out or something”
“That was her. She said it. That’s what she always tells me”

Hey Benz. ^_^


Welcome to YWS. Before I glance over the piece, I'm glad you dropped in; and you might want to introduce yourself in the Welcome forum. You always make good connections there, you know. ^_~

For the story? You have interesting subject matter, without a doubt. But you're shooting yourself in the foot with lack of punctuation and and off-kilter structure.

Half the time, your dialogue ends without full-stop or comma; you jump at lightspeed from the first scene to the one in which Jame is mentioned and appears; you don't break your paragraphs up. Though that last one is mostly for the sake of those reading it and critiquing it. ^_^

A few things to think about then --

PACE:

At the moment, the pace is the equivalent of a run-on sentence. Quick as you introduce your character and her mental illness, you've tried to introduce another character and an entire relationship.

Slow down, if at all possible. ^_~ It's rather like breathing; breathe in - pause - breathe out. A story needs the same balance, to keep action going and readers connected to characters.

SITUATION?:

You have a girl who is, apparently, schizophrenic. It could be bloody creepy; and odd. But at the moment, she sounds as if she's just likely to be Multiple Personality - speaking as someone else. Her experience of the girl in the mirror sounds more like a horror movie than a mental illness. And Jamie is a pleasant presence with no face - you haven't gotten to draw him at all.

Research schizophrenia. It will make things easier to write and more intriquing and convincing to read. Set the scene up in the beginning, show us what it looks like. Following that, you may slip into her mind and her madness. But do it carefully. The inside of mental illness is and will be - always - a hard place to write well, sans sensational fantasy and all that.

Always Ask "How Come?" and Dialogue:

A lot of things seem out of place for how little they're set up. And the dialogue is...well, it's rather haphazard.

Dialogue would be a brilliant way to get the thing across. Watching the way in which she speaks to Jamie, or speaks to the mirror, would tell everything without telling like an adult 'tells' a child, patronisingly, about babies being dropped on doorsteps by storks.

So - do make use of the dialogue. Perhaps open the scene with your character speaking to the mirror? But don't worry about her thoughts. The reader will want to see what's happening.

Slight on Style?:

Watch the variance of your sentences. Along with pace, you seem to have a tendency to hit the same length of sentence ten times in a row. It will slow things down. And novelty is dead, naturally, by third time. ^_^''

I stared into the jet black glassiness of the mirror.
My heartbeat increased. My breathing deepened. I placed my hands on the glass. My black nail varnish chipped, my shoulders arched. A small trickle of blood sliding down the mirror. My head down towards the sink. Looking through my hair at my reflection. Giving me that threatening look I knew. The headache started. The dark circles under my eyes making me look even worse.

The above, for example. You notice, yes? Nearly all the same structure; nearly all the same length.

--


Anyhow, mental illness sets up a great springboard and difficulty. I'd be rather interested to know what happens. Why Jamie still hangs around? Why she sees girls in mirrors, when most schizophrenics seem ordinary enough to see people walking along the street with them. Where she is? etcera.

Good luck. And if you've any questions; or if you'd like a second look at it when you've worked on it again, feel free to PM me.






IMP

Rating changed to R for content and language...

I placed my cold yet clammy hand on my forehead.

cold yet clammy doesn't work. Clammy is cold...

“Fuck! You look white!”

You've already said she's pale and white... duh?


This was... okay. Schizophrenia is probably hard to write. Also, it was practically your only conflict? "Oh no, someone is talking to me and I have mental problems..." It's interesting, and creepy but... Doesn't make the best of fiction when that is all there is to hear about.

Also, sometimes you need commas and such, and your dialog isn't always properly punctuated. Consider spacing your paragraphs out [see how mine are spaced?] it makes it easier to read.

Try thinking about how you could write this with the reader in mind... I think this would work better from third person. A lot of this is just dialog and introspection, which is boring. [Introspection, that is.] The best "crazy person" scene I read was in The Brothers Karamazov when Ivan sees the devil... But Dostoevsky is amazing, he can write Ivan with brain fever, and it's wonderful.

Consider researching into schizophrenia more, almost everyone knows it creates split personality disorder but it also does a lot more. And if she did have schizophrenia, she would probably be in a mental hospital. The thing with the mirror reminded me of the mental disorder where you think your reflects are other people, look that up as well. (I forget what it's called.)

Best of luck.

You have a desent start here. Your have a great title, that's why i looked at it in the first place. --First thing first, work on your spacing, it will be much easier to read that way.

-And-

Work on your fragments, you have two back to back here. There are simple ways of combining them.

A small trickle of blood sliding down the mirror. My head down towards the sink. Looking through my hair at my reflection.

Other than the spacing and the fragments, which is easily fixed, you have an okay start here, but it needs to be worked on a little. I will be intrested in seeing the up coming chapters.

Ok. This piece, no offence, is really creeepy. It doesn't mean yo're a bad writer, it just means you might want to try and soften the story a bit, unless you're trying to scare people in which case, conratgulations! It worked.

Now, there's a lot of grammar and punchuation mistakes I saw. And it went quite fast. But I'm one more to look at the plot. It was good, just bloody scary. I don't think I'll be sleeping tonight.

chocoholic, i don't think it's scary.
sure, it's not all fluffliness and rainbows and whatnot, and it's definitely intense, but it's not persay creepy.
schizophrenic people face that type of problem. it's not as though she's possessed or something.
anyhoo,
i really liked it!
very unique, very interesting!
punctuation errors, yes, but i'm sure everyone else handled correcting those just fine.
great job, and keep writing!