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Now.

“What are you doing?”
“Oh, don’t worry. And be quiet.”
What the hell are you doing?
“Look, it won’t take more than a minute.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“Oh, shut up. I don’t need your help.”
“You may not need my help, but you clearly need professional help.”
“What? Professionals do this kind of thing?”
“…Are you always this stupid? I’m just wondering for future reference.”
[Silence]
“…Hey?”
[Silence]
“Oh, don’t be that way.”
[Silence]
“…Oh God.”

---

There was a time when I was eight years old. It wasn’t a terribly eventful time. Basically, my mother took me to the mall and we window-shopped. Then we left. That was it. That was the time.

It was the results of that time that were rather stupendous.

Apparently, as I would learn later in life, we’d walked past a security camera or two on our way out. The tape would show a little girl holding tightly onto thin air as she walked energetically through the mall while talking her own ear off. Someone noticed this at the time and called on a security guard to make sure everything was all right. The security guard was feeling particularly lazy that day and couldn’t be bothered to do his job, so he simply alerted every other security guard on the premises that there was a girl wandering about on her own. The guards didn’t check the original guard’s area, assuming that he’d done it, and my invisible mother and I were able to leave the mall without conflict.

My mother had never left my side. The only problem was that she simply didn’t show up on camera. I didn’t learn anything about this until about eight years later. That time was eventful.


Then.

4/08

I got home from school today and my mother was doing the most bizarre things. I mean, weird on my mother is not uncommon; she’s not the most average of mothers you’ll ever meet. But this was bordering on freaky.

I guess it’s my fault that I’m potentially traumatized by this. I crept into the kitchen without really making any noise. I stopped and watched when I saw what she was doing.

She was talking to a wall.
Like it was a person.
She kept calling it by my name.

I get that I’m not supposed to just watch without telling her I was there, but I was just fascinated. I couldn’t help it. Eventually I backed out of the room and left her to her wall conversations. But, really… doesn’t that seem more than a little weird?


---

Looking fervently around, she made sure that nothing was going to go awry. Elements were off, children were out, husband was working. She wandered over to the sofa and lay down.

But this time, before she got distracted again, she questioned what she was doing.

It was dangerous, this kind of thing. That much was obvious. Bad things had happened in the past. And maybe her husband was right; maybe it was getting out of control.

Nonsense! Protested the ever-present voice in the back of her mind.
How is that nonsense? It’s common sense, whispered a tiny voice she didn’t recognize. While you’re gone, you have no idea what’s really happening.
“Mother?” she whispered aloud.
Close. It’s just you, projecting my wishes. You know it’s wrong. You’re getting too far in.
That was the unfortunate thing about it, wasn’t it? Her kids were starting to give her funny looks when she went and they were home. Or, so her husband said.

You have to follow him, said the ever-present voice.
“Another day,” she said aloud. “I thought it was decided that I didn’t want to know.”
And she fell silent again.
She considered what she was doing. It wasn’t directly harming anyone, and golly, it was fun.
She smiled.
And she slipped away.

---

I saw her running down the hill. Finally, after an hour of waiting. I should have walked home.
“I’m sorry!” she shouted as she ran. I looked down.
“Where’s the car?” I asked quietly.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated breathlessly as she came to a stop.
“Yeah. Okay. Where’s the car?”
“I…” she frowned. “I didn’t think to bring the car.”
I brought my eyes up to her red face. “I see that.”
“I’m sorrrrrry,” she whined.
“Fine! Fine, mom. Let’s just go.”
“Sweetie…”
I pretended not to hear. I walked for a good long way before the pounding in my ears subsided enough to tell that she wasn’t behind me.
It was my sixteenth birthday that day. She hadn’t remembered. Two days later we had the conversation.


Now.

“Hi!”
“Thank God! I had no idea where you’d gone. You just sat there, and… and didn’t say anything. I thought you’d done it for a moment. Do you realize how supremely idiotic that would have been? After what it did to your… hey, are you okay?”
“Yes! Fine! Let’s go!”
“…Go where?”
“Where were we going?”
“…We weren’t.”
“We weren’t what?”
[Grin.]
“Going.”
“Going where?”
“Anywhere.”
“Oh. Okay! Let’s go!”
“…”
[Slap.]
[Grin.]
“Ow!”
[Grin.]
“Stop grinning! I just hit you. This means that you should stop acting like such a little freak!”
“Oh. I’m sorry if my behavior displeases you.”
“There. That’s better. Good. Sarcasm. That’s…”
[GRIN.]
“…Oh my GOD! You were being serious!”
“Was I not supposed to be?”
“…You’re acting seriously… oh. Oh… oh dear. You’ve done it, haven’t you?”
[Grin.]
[Sigh.]
“Okay. Let’s go, then.”
“Let’s go!”


Then.

“You’re home.”
“I am.”
“It’s about time.”
“I was busy.”

She was busy.

“You should have called.”
“I was busy.”

She was busy.

“So? I had dinner on the table waiting for you an hour ago! Where have you been?”
“I lost track of time.”

She lost track of time.

“Mom! Don’t you see something wrong with this picture?”
“No.”
“I’M ACTING THE PARENT! I’m sixteen, and I am more mature than you are. Get a grip, mom!”
“Don’t you sass me.”
I had to laugh. It was just too funny. Then I sat on a stool and moved on.
“I got an interesting phone call today.”
Mom frowns. “Since when are you sixteen?”
I threw off a wave of anger and continued. “A court case of some kind was being reviewed from eight years ago. Some guy wants parole or something. The cops went over the security tapes from a mall and they found something fairly remarkable. Ten points if you can guess what it was.” I watch my mother. She looks at the floor. I can’t tell if she’d even heard a word until:
“A little girl wandering alone.”
I raise my eyebrows. “And that’s ten points to the lady in the kitchen. Double your score if you can guess who the girl was.”
“It was you.”
“That’s a whopping twenty points.” It was at that point that I realized I was about to lose my temper in a big way. “What aren’t you telling me.” I didn’t bother to state it as a question.

Mom sighs and looks up at me for the first time all night. She looks tired and old. Tears well. She sits down on a stool across from me, and she explains.

---

“Sweetie…” she whined at her daughter, who pretended not to hear. The mother watched her child as she stalked away, leaning into the wind but probably not really feeling it.

She wished she knew what her daughter was thinking.
[Idea + Smile.]

She positioned herself so that she wouldn’t fall during the short time between when she slipped away and when auto-pilot kicked in. She closed her eyes, made the connection, and went.

But she was still there.

She felt the familiar sensation of complete lack of responsibilities or boundaries as rose above herself and laughed at her corporeal form. She made sure the auto-pilot was operational, and then concentrated.
Daughter.

foom poof twang
there.

And then she was in her daughter’s mind. Two totally different people sharing the same thoughts and sensations for a while. Her daughter could not sense her there, and though aware of her existence, she couldn’t sense her daughter. All at once, she was her daughter while still maintaining her own existence. That’s the way it was. She could just slip away; her body preformed standard actions automatically. She could become a part of anyone. Mostly, she just concentrated on random and jumped to a perfect stranger, just to see what their life was like.

It was absolutely amazing. She loved it. It allowed her to understand people better, and it gave her this entire sense of… freedom.

And now she was her daughter.
Whose thoughts were mean and bitter; who felt so angry with her mom for not fixing herself, whatever was wrong with her; who was thinking about what she’d make for dinner tomorrow in case her mother didn’t show up again.
Wait… no footsteps. She isn’t following me.

And then she was expelled. It wasn’t intentional, though that was usually the way things went. She could control when to expel herself. But not this time. It was almost as though the moment it was realized that she wasn’t there, her daughter had automatically and unconsciously expelled her from her mind.

She soared back home, where auto-pilot had taken her body via taxi. It was a shock to be back; moreso than usual.
Oh, God, said the ever-present voice in unison with that of her mother. You’ve royally screwed up this time.
“I need a concentrate,” she muttered aloud.
No! her mother's voice insisted uselessly. Remember what I said, child!

Husband.



1977

“My dear, this is a power you need to use with caution. It’s too easy to get addicted to it, and it’s not meant for amusement purposes. Use it only in extreme situations, child.”
“Mother, I’m not sure I understand…”
“Nor will you until you try. You’re sixteen now; I think you’re old enough to understand the responsibilities attached with it. Remember that if you get out of control—"
“Cut the power off before it becomes too late. I’ve got it.” She sighed. “All right. Tell me what I need to do.”

Oh, God, how well she remembered it! It was so familiar; every detail, every second of it, she remembered, eighteen years later. The day her mother had told her about the power every female in her family possessed. The single most influential day of her life, ranking above her marriage, above the birth of her child. It was the day she discovered.

She followed her mother’s instructions and felt herself rise above her body. She simply hovered in place, taking in the sensations… or lack thereof. No need to breathe; no cold feet under the floor. It was incredible. She saw herself grin below her. Then she remembered to activate the auto-pilot. She watched herself wander around the kitchen and fix herself a glass of milk, and then sit at the kitchen table, waiting patiently.

Satisfied with the fake version of herself, she concentrated hard.
Random.
All at once, she wasn’t in her kitchen anymore. She wasn’t even her anymore. According to the memory she was sharing, her new name was Jill Carson. She walked about with a backpack around her shoulders and a thousand thoughts a second going through her mind.

She didn’t pay any attention to the mind, though; mostly she relished the strange sensation of the wind through someone else’s hair. The cars drove swiftly by and Jill looked around at them. She caught a thought: I wish I hadn’t bought that massive 20" television. Maybe then I could afford a car and this walking down the highway gig wouldn’t be getting so old.

She smiled and let Jill be on her way.
Expel.
Random.

She wasn’t Jill Carson anymore with her large telly and lack of car; she was an elderly woman named Ethel McGill.

Ethel sat in a large and very ugly flowered chair. She blinked heavily and watched the people of similar age as Ethel around her. She could hear the people talking to Ethel, but since she couldn’t hear them, Ethel clearly wasn’t listening. Ethel held a cane out in front of her. It’s depressing, Ethel thought. I’m sitting here surrounded by people I hardly know and they’re speaking to me like we’re old friends. Well, we are old; there’s just nothing friendly about it. I hate them, and they hate me. It’s the way things work here. Perhaps I’ll talk to Johnny and convince him to break me out of here… he was, after all, the one who put me in.

Ethel was right; it was depressing.
Expel.
Home.

[Jolt.]
“Woo!”
“You’re back?”
“I am. That was…”
“Extremely dangerous. It may have been fun, and it may have been unique, but you must understand how dangerous it is. This power is a privilege and a responsibility. You mustn’t use it more than once a month. Once you get above that point, you know you have a problem, and you must—“
“Turn the power off, mother. I understand.”
“I hope you do, child. I hope you do.”


Then.

I was laughing.
“Stop it!”
I was still laughing.
“I’m not kidding, kiddo.”
It was just so FUNNY!
“Look. Okay, fine. You wanted to know what my ‘problem’ was, I told you. If you can’t deal with it, that’s fine.”
“No… it’s just I… haha… I can’t help but think… that… you’re absolutely… hahahaha… INSANE, you know? Hahahahahahaha.”
“I’m not. Why do you think I didn’t appear on the tapes? When I slip, I don’t appear on camera because my soul isn’t there. It’s somewhere totally different. It’s amazing. You’ll never experience anything like it.”

She was serious.
My laughing tapered.
“Heh. Yeah, well, whatever.”
Her eyes lit up. She just stared at me for a while, apparently having some kind of internal battle. Then she finally blurted, “Try it.”
“What? No!”
“Come on.”
“Mom, no.”
“Why not? You’ll believe me, then.”
“No, I really don’t think I will.”
*whimper, whine*
“Whining won’t get you anywhere,” I added.
“Try it. Just Concentrate.”
“I’m not going to ‘jump’ into another person. That’s totally invading their privacy. And also, you know, impossible.”
“It’s not. It’s genetic. You kicked me out of your mind, I know you have the pow—“

“…You were in my mind?”
“…I… no, I was… just… I was… no!”
“YOU were in MY MIND?”
“Sweetie, you have to understand…”

I stood up. “No, mom. You have to understand. I don’t know why I believe all this nonsense, but what I do know is that this is not good. This power you have? It’s no good. It invades people’s privacy. It invades my privacy. Stop, mom. Get over it. You don’t need to be someone else.”
“…mimble blimble…”
“You have a problem. Get a grip and get over yourself.” I left the room.
“Your father’s having an affair.”
I paused. I didn’t look back. “I know. Can you blame him?” I walked out of the house without waiting for a reply.

---

That was the last time I saw my mother alive. That night she slipped away and was too upset to remember auto-pilot. She went from random to random all night long, but by morning her body had died. She was stuck to roam.

Which brings us to about two weeks later.


Now.

“Hi!”
[Elbow in ribs.] “Stop that. You’re not usually so friendly to your neighbours.”
“Oh. Sorry!”
“Just be quiet. Let’s get you home.”
“Let’s go!”
“And stop walking so funny. You look like freaking Frankenstein or something.”
“Oh. Sorry!”
“Shut up!”
[Knock.]

[Creeeeeeak.]
“Well, hi there, girls. You know you don’t have to knock.”
[Smile.]
“I know, sir, and thank you, but… we have a situation. See, your brilliant daughter here decided to follow in her mother’s footsteps with the whole, slipping away thing, and her auto-pilot isn’t very convincing.”
“Hi!”

[Hesitation.]

“She told you everything?”
“Yeah. The night her mom told her, she got seriously freaked and she slept over at my house. Told me everything. I didn’t believe it at first. I don’t think she did, either. But, here she is, slipped and a little dipped, too.”
“Let’s go!”
[Sigh.]
“All right. Get her inside.”

[Jolt.]
holy god that was amazing great fun adventure freeing.
[Grin.]

“Hey. Are we back now? No more with the creepy flying around being other people?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Hi.”
“Are you actually the stupidest kid ever? I’m just wondering. I asked you this before, but you didn’t answer because you were kind of gone.”
“What were you thinking? What possible good could have come of it? Your mother died of it! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“It does, of course it does! But, dad, you won’t believe who…”
“Then stop being such a fool. There is no good. It is no good.”
“Dad, guys, both of you. Just, calm down, and let me tell you who I…”
“No. I don’t even want to hear it.”
I realized I couldn’t tell them, and sighed dramatically. “All right. Okay. I’m on board. No good. It won’t happen again. I just… I had to try it. I had to see what it was she loved about it so much. But I’m done. That’s it. No more. I won’t go again.”

[I’ll see you again tonight, mom. They may not want to see you, but I do.
Just wait a while. I'll be there.
Nothing can stop me.]
©2005-2009 ~Lig
:iconlig:

Author's Comments

This story didn't start out this way. Lately when I've felt like writing, I've started out with straight dialogue. None of this silly "I said, he said" crap. Just, phrase, phrase, phrase. And so this begins. I was sitting on the bus on my way home today and I realized that this was an idea I'd had ages ago, but hadn't put on a page. I already had three sections down, so why not extend it into my own idea?

It's good, especially upon re-reading it the next day. I still think I could have portrayed the idea itself better; it's really broken, which is a style I usually appreciate. It works for it, I think, but there's still something missing in the story.

[EDIT:] Fixed.
Well, not completely. But it's better. The central idea is more central and less background noise.
Basically I added a section, rearranged the last section and switched the "chapters" about so there are three now.

I didn't use names. The story revolves around two main figures; mother and daughter. I've been told the story is misleading because it isn't in chronological order. I did use different proper nouns for each character. Read it through more than once and it may become clearer.

[EDIT: NOV. 24]
Okay.
Okay.
I love you guys.
Okay.

I fixed some things. The ending's different, but it... doesn't... appeal to me as much. I'll change it back if reactions are similar to mine.
I also made timeframes obvious so I could tell you very, very clearly who is speaking in what time frame.

Now: The main character, her friend, and at the end her father are speaking.
Then: The main character and her mother are speaking.
1977: The main character's mother and grandmother are speaking.

That's all there is to it.
Also, the thoughts of the people in 1977 are different. Apparently they were unrealistic (something I hoped no one would notice...) and so I made them less thought-revolvant and more person-revolvant. Actions and situations are paid more attention to than thoughts... was that a sentence?

Little things are different; I amalgamated some sentences with others to form actual paragraphs, a totally new concept. It's still choppy because I like choppy, damnit! But it might be *better*.
Thank you. This whole Daily Deviation deal has been great inspiration.

Daily Deviation

Given 2005-11-23

Looks Like I Slipped by ~Lig A cautionary supernatural tale about a mother who refuses to take responsibility for her daughter. Told without following chronological order and from the perspective of both primary characters, the reader is left with a sense of confusion partially resolved, which works well with the subject. (Suggested by `GunShyMartyr and Featured by `MinorKey)

Comments


love 0 0 joy 0 0 wow 0 0 mad 0 0 sad 0 0 fear 0 0 neutral 0 0
:iconlig:
I recreated it to be school-friendly. Added names, made actual paragraphs, etc.
Should I repost it as such? It might be easier to follow.
:icongunshymartyr:
Repost it in another deviation. It'll be a good comparison.

Or email it to me.

--
I'm not a writer, I just play one on deviantArt.
:iconcaylin:
"A cautionary supernatural tale about a mother who refuses to take responsibility for her daughter. Told without following chronological order and from the perspective of both primary characters, the reader is left with a sense of confusion partially resolved, which works well with the subject."

I see nothing confusing about this-it's a very original idea (at least from my end of the writing woods) and it DOES hold some chronological order. I can see it,a bit,even if it doesn't state 'July 10th,1982' 'July 11th 1982' and so on and so forth.

I agree with the first commenter. It was a little choppy... but I don't think it's the actual essence of the tale itself-it's more the way you broke it down. I know dramatic effect comes in play when trying to break down paragraphs/pauses/etc

but

spacing

like

this

everytime

gets a little bit jerky and,unless it's a screenplay or a chatroom-esque fanfic... it sort of needs to be kept to a minimum.

This gets a favorite just because it's so well written and I could see -everything- clearly in the back of my head. Your punctuation,by the way,is sublime. Good job,and congratulations on getting a DD with a literary work. Gods knows it's rare and it's -hard- (especially when it's an actual prose work instead of poetry).
:iconjojozita:
i loved it. a bit confusing in the beginning, but i like the idea. being so vague with the text in general encourages the reader to actually think for him/herself, which is great.

:)
:iconrobinj:
This is the first time I've dropped into the literary section of DA, and I have to say I like what I've read.
I personally really like what your story. It does remind me of a book called Body Rides, by Richard Layman (I think), that explores similar ideas but a little more obviously than you do. I like the mystery you keep, allowing the reader to form and shape the power as they might see and use it.

I think adding names is superfluous. It wont add anything to the story as I see it, if anything it will detract from the real emotion you're building up.

I agree it could be a little confusing to some, but I went straight back to the beginning to read it again with fresh eyes and I appreciated it more.

Keep it up :)
:icongreenchocofoxx:
:omg: That was the best thing I have ever read!! :+fav:

--
"All squares are triangles..." :rofl:
:iconravenius:
its totally amazing, a very emotive writing, keep up the good work, but i had some problems recognizing the person that was speaking, u should work on that
:icons0lidsn4k3:
I know that I could if I tried..if you trust me enough to do such a thing, note me the 'poem' and I'll un-chop it for you.

--
J'ai Aimé...

J'ai Souffert....

Maintenant, Je Hais.
:icons0lidsn4k3:
Hmm...as it was stated earlier, this is extremely choppy. I wasn't sure if you were attempting to make this out to be a poem or prose, but you submitted it under prose, so disregard my earlier statement. It's hard to follow through the whole thing DUE to the choppiness, and maybe I could help you out with that.

--
J'ai Aimé...

J'ai Souffert....

Maintenant, Je Hais.
:iconsonneillon-:
“You’re father’s having an affair.” --> that should be "your"

Hrm. My comment is going to be so much shorter than everyone elses... >.> This is a very different genre for me. I haven't actually read anything like this before o the experience was interesting. There are some elements that I definitely like, such as the actions in brackets - reminds me of IRC :P I also think that, despite how confusing the dialogue can sometimes be (who is talking to who), the spacing and how it is being presented works quite effectively. I'm a huge fan of dialogue so this is definitely something i'm happy with. As I mentioned earlier, sometimes it's a little hard to pick up who is talking to who (daughter to mother, daughter to friend, etc). I feel that perhaps you could make this a little clearer. This doesnt need to be in the dialogue, but maybe before it. Maybe if you mention something unique to the certain character before you start the dialogue.

As one of the previous people said, this story catches you, and there's almost no excuse to stop reading. I agree that perhaps the end needs a bit more punch...

otherwise, this was very interesting. i'm not used to reading things like this (genre) but this was definitely less nauseating than some other stuff I've read this week. I'm happy with this :) Well done!

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September 9, 2005
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