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Prototype novel gone wrongEdit

 It started when I went to edit my first novel. I love writing especially about odd people and creatures. This particular story was about a girl (Yami) who was similar to a werewolf (she's a bit different). So I didn't feel like continuing the second story. So I open the notepad on my computer and look for the file. For some reason there was a little symbol next to the file name. Oddly enough, it was a copy of the original file. So I clicked on it.
         It opened... But for some reason it looked like a chatroom. It appeared like this:


Yami: Hello, T.

T:

         Some creep just hacked my computer.... They're just trying to get their sick-kicks... I though to myself. I couldn't have been more wrong. So I answer anyways, just to see how long I could keep them going. Even though, I don't think you can talk through notepad... The thought never phased me.


T: Hello, Yami.

Yami: Do you plan to continue writing?

T: Of course...

Yami: But can you write without inspiration?

T: What do you mean?

Yami: Your inspiration is life, is it not? You cannot write without life, and even if you could you wouldn't have any inspiration. So explain this to me.

T: Okay, I don't know who you are but I've had you on the computer long enough, I'm sure the police can track you now.

Yami: Before you say anymore, would you like to see the world you've created and destroyed?

T:

        I refuse to answer. But my screen turned black, not by my choice of course. It showed the neighborhood Yami lived in, exactly how I had pictured it in my head. It showed Yami's house as it should have been, but it flashed the house as if it were demolished. It did this to the forest, and the rest of the neighborhood as well. Until it showed Xander's house (my second main character). It was burning to the ground slowly. Then the screen shot to Yami, her hair stained with blood and clothes torn. She was standing on top of a mountain of bodies. Her face was shrowded with shadows so when she looked up, I could only see her sharp teeth form a demented smile. For some reason, her eyes glowed red, but her eyes were naturally green. Then it showed Xander lying on the ground and Yami next to him weeping. Suddenly she looks down and her face fills with pain. Yami collapses next to Xander. The dagger that she had hidden in her sleeve falls onto the ground next to her. She had slit her wrists. I stare into the screen in total shock. The screen flashes multiple images of the destruction. Then it returns to the page with our conversation.
          "Did you see it? What you've caused?" Yami asks, her voice coming from the speakers. I am frozen, unable to say or do anything. "I... I couldn't have done this.... I didn't write any of this..." I gasp. "Yes, you did. I am like a second personality to you. You gave me all of your traits, and thoughts. I AM YOU!" Yami explains impatiently. "No, I didn't give these traits to you! This isn't my fault!" I yell in panic. "Don't deny your truth! Accept it!" Yami yells, her voice sounding demonic. "I can't accept..." I stop, a sharp pain shoots accross my wrists. I look down. In one hand I hold a razor, and the other is covered in blood. I had slit both my wrists without my consent. I look up to the screen, only to face Yami, who was mirroring my actions. I black out.
        When I come to I wake up in Yami's neighborhood. It was completely destroyed, smoke, blood, darkness. The stench is overwhelming. I stand up and dust the ash off of me. I see Yami's silhouette in the smoke. "WAIT!" I yell, but then a pain shoots up my arms and my wrists begin to bleed again. I awake in a hospital surrounded by my family. All yelling at me for my actions, but once the scolding ends the sympathy begins and it never stops. Among my family, I see Yami's eyes and black hair shoot out of the room. I never really used my computer after that. But after a while, her voice kept telling me to accept the truth, even when I was asleep. Accept the truth. I thought. My parents watch me constantly now, eventually they took me to a therapist for help. But I still hear her voice. "Goodnight," I whisper to my sleeping parents. "It's time to accept the truth. No more lies," I whisper quietly.


-VHTA

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