Who am I? Where am I? Why am I here? I really can't remember. Do I even have a name? I can neither see nor hear anyone else. Maybe there's just me.
Panic threatens to overwhelm me, but something tells me I have to stay calm. This is important. Keeping calm is important.
So I close my eyes and take several deep breaths. I can figure this out. I can remember if I try.
From somewhere, I recall the phrase "Start with what you know. If you don't know, find out."
I've no idea where that came from, it's just in my head. My surroundings are probably the best way to gain information. So I open my eyes and look around.
I'm sitting on the end of a single bed in a small rather square room. The walls are pale green. There is a door on the right. the bed is placed directly down the rooms centre and has pale blue covers.
There is a wardrobe, white, a chest of drawers, also white. A set of bookshelves, in a light wood colour, are packed with various novels.
Do I like reading? I think I do read, but I'm not a fanatic. I wonder how I know that? Later, I'll take a closer look at those books.
There doesn't appear to be much else in this room. No paintings, no photo's. There is nothing that looks like a personal posession, nothing that looks like mine. Not that I would recognise my own posessions.
No clothes litter the floor.
The clothes I am wearing, are not to my taste. A light denim skirt and a plan pale pink t-shirt. I'm actually a little disgusted. It's all so boring. I'd much prefer bright colours, though I've no idea why I should know that. It just seems to be another one of those things I know but I can't remember how I know it.
Looking around again, I can see there is no window here. No natural light. This tiny cell is illuminated only by an electric light, directly above. I hate that. I need sunlight to feel I am not totally trapped.
Perhaps I am trapped? I mean, why am I here? Where is here? for all I know, I did something horribly wrong and so I've been locked away for all eternity.
I could try the door, but I've no idea if it will be unlocked and I dare not attempt anything that might draw attention. I don't know why. It's just some sort of instinct.
My eyes scan the room once more. Pastel colours, which I hate. No sounds. No view. Very isolated. I feel both alone and lonely. I've no memory of where I am or why.
Is it day or night? Oh, hang on, there's a clock by the bed. It's 2 o'clock. But it's not a twenty four hour clock so I still don't know if it's afternoon or early morning. Nor do I know the month, year or day of the week.
OK, It's time to think logically. I was not asleep in bed earlier. Simply sitting here on the bed. I'm fully dressed. If it was night, I would be in bed.
It seems strange that I can come to such a logical conclusion, but not remember who I am.
Looking around hasn't helped much. Except I know I hate pale colours and electric lights.
I'll come back to the question of where I am later, right now, I'm more keen to know who I am.
Dear Emelia,
Thanks for sharing. I enjoyed reading your draft. I think you are off to a good start. However, I feel you tell rather than show which makes reading a little more like the girl's next door. For example,
There is a wardrobe, white, a chest of drawers, also white. A set of bookshelves, in a light wood colour, are packed with various novels.
Maybe you could rewrite something like, white was the color of choice for the wardrobe, the chest of drawers and the bookshelf carried the thickness, the smell of the mighty pen!
Any great start! I look forward to reading more of your great stuff!
Thanks,
Alice
Thank you for the feedback.
I know it's a difficult subject. It's not something I ever really thought about tackling, I just got the idea and the character in my head, then she refused to leave me alone and kept telling me her story!
The idea came to me about a year ago I think, when I read Perfect by Rachel Joyce and, no spoilers, but the book flits between past and present. In the present it follows one person who clearly has mental health problems. There was another book I read for teenagers about a girl who struggles with the loss of her sister several years before that and keeps imagining her sister is still alive.
Watching Hollyoaks played it's part too. They seem to favour characters developing psychological problems. A bipolar woman who believes her ex lover is back from the dead. A young woman goes into psychosis after the death of her baby. Another woman who had a horrendous childhood has a long history of mental illness and tries to marry her twin brother.
It all played it's part in helping me to write this. I just thought I'd post up the first little bit and see what people think.
There's a memory sequence further in. I think I'll use it as part of the opening in a dream sequence and then have my character wake up in the middle of the night and start remembering things. It might make for a more interesting read then.
The absence of memory of self is a subject that several writers have explored; It's rather brave of you to tackle it, because comparisons are inevitable.
You tell us this is the opening of a piece; I shall assume it's a novel. I've read it several times now, and it tells me that the protagonist is in a small room without a window, and a few more details about the room. The protagonist can't remember who she is (the denim skirt prompts me to use 'she', although since the character has no memory of her identity it could as easily be 'he'). She doesn't like pastel colours or electric light and she's too scared to try the door. It's not, in itself, an exciting scene.
As it's not an exciting scene, you have to find ways of making it fascinate and intrigue the reader. You've tried to do this with your mind, but have you tried with your emotions? You could try shutting your eyes and imagining yourself in that room. Not just what does it look like, but what are your other senses telling you? It's quiet; but is it silent? Is the clock ticking? Or making that clicking noise that many electric clocks make? Is there a faint hum from an air-conditioning unit? What does the room smell like? Antiseptic? Electrical? Can you smell your own body, your clothes? Is it warm or cold? Do you realise immediately you look at the door that you're too frightened to try it, or is it as you approach the door you feel increasing fear? Is your bladder full?
Make it real to your reader!
Good luck!
Penny