Hello, and welcome!

Okay, I am feeling a bit awkward to do this, but I have been told many times that I absolutely lack any kind of advertising talent, so I am struggling with it, although I am afraid to sound preposterous.

I sort of wanted to skip the disclaimer and simply say: “thanks for being here, make yourself comfortable and read!” but then I realized that a warning was necessary, because this story is a bit different from my previous ones and I didn’t want you to feel disappointed or confused at first.

So please, read what follows, it’s important.

Summary: a group of characters are involved in a time-traveling experience.

The fictional characters, plotting, and narration in general belong to me, Mena, and believe it or not, it took me some time and effort to write this. Criticism is welcome, plagiarism is not.

On plotting:
This story will develop following different characters, both celebrities and fictional characters based on friends of mine; the celebrities won’t appear immediately, so if you’re looking for the average story where the movie star meets the girl and they get to third basis by chapter five, I’m afraid this won’t be your cup of tea.

On research:
I have been researching quite a lot for this story. Still, I am not a professional on the topics I approached, so, although I tried to make my descriptions the more accurate I could without bore you all to death, take them with a pinch of salt, remembering that I am simply a foreigner speaker and amateur writer, persuaded that if Dan Brown can teach himself cryptography, I can teach myself the basis of these!

-Quantum mechanics and related applications: this is a story on time-traveling, so I studied a bit the real researches made on this topic. Still, I always sucked badly in math, physics and science, and I cannot access spy ware satellites, and I simply dug in the Internet. I took inspiration from the technologies I read about, that’s all, but I am pretty clueless on how developed they are at the moment, so don’t go mailing Houston asking what they are up to!

-Mental illness: some mental disorders are mentioned, and I studied them (briefly) to squeeze them in; I am approaching this delicate issue with the maximum respect, I can assure you. Again, I am not a professional, but just the daughter of a male nurse who works in a psychiatric ward, who taught me to be respectful and open-minded around people with mental diseases. I don’t mean to offend anyone, so if this disturbs you, you’re warned.

-Historical facts: history is a bit less sensitive issue, and I took some liberty with it: the history settings are real, but some events were made up. (Hey, it’s fiction, after all!)

I made up the combination of these three topics from scratch, and I never heard about a true association among them.

On locations:
All the locations mentioned in this story are real: type ‘em on google and you’ll get matches; but I never visited the majority of them I am in no way affiliated with them or with people working/living there, so, don’t sue me!

On characters:
Some characters are based on dear friends of mine, and I hope they won’t be disappointed for the way I picture them. I love them very much and they mean the world to me, and as far as I know it, none of them is mental! (Well, not technically at least, although Jaime might maybe disagree).
Some celebrities are mentioned, but I don’t own them, nor I am affiliated to them in some way: I would be very happy to spend some time alone with them to discuss the possible applications of physics and leverages on human bodies… in other words, I’m just like you all. Still, I don’t think they are even remotely similar to my characters, and their attitude and personality are a sheer fabrication of my mind.

Rating: this story is rated R for sensitive issues such as mental illness, mild-violence, and (hopefully) sexual implications.

Many thanks to:
Amber, my inestimable beta-reader and spiritual supporter, Dana for the endless encouragement and feedback, Micheal Crichton for the oblivious head-up (I read Timeline, so that’s what is all about), Stephen Hawking for spending his life studying quantum mechanics, so that I could jump on the bandwagon and live on his efforts, the Internet for all the information without what I won’t be writing anything, and the celebrities mentioned here, because although I don’t know them and never will they have no idea of how close they are in my head to be my friends, and how they inspire me.

This story is dedicated to Amber, Dana, Elisa, Jess, Sam, Blondie, Andie, Ursi and Laila.

List of characters (alphabetically listed so nobody will get jealous, lol!):

Sean Bean

Orlando Bloom

Roseanna Bouvier

Billy Boyd

Gerard Butler

Fabio Cannavaro (this is Amber's fault, mind that!)

Johnny Depp

Nyla Goldstein

Blanche Jennings

Samantha Kerr

Wentworth Miller

Viggo Mortensen

Deidre O'Keefe

Lena Olin

Violet Pierron

Walter Pierron (aka Cletus)

Stuart Townsend

OC/cameos (I am still not sure of this, I might PM some of you if I need your help).

Man, that was longer than a thanking speech at the Academy Awards! :blush:

Okay, this has taken long enough so, if you’re still here, let’s begin!

.... of course, the prologue is coming in a very short while... :tsk:

:tom:

Prologue.

Portia, Arkansas, 1985.

Doctor Pierron stood by the window, glancing at the empty swing creaking in slow motion in the clear light of the early afternoon. The neighborhood seemed even too quiet, but maybe it was the stupor, the numbness that filled his mind that cut noises out.

He knew that behind him the living room was full of people. They moved with plates in their hands, exchanging wrecked and lopsided smiles; he could feel their worried glances on his back and nape, but he decided to take another moment for himself before turning and facing them.

Doctor Pierron knew the human mind well enough to be aware that he could not get rid of his pain. He was accepting it meekly, like a horse loaded with too much weight. He had been trying to tell himself that pain, per se, does not exist; you cannot feel it, you cannot touch it, it’s evanescent, chemical, a series of impulses launched to the brain.

Doctor Pierron was a break line psychiatrist, specialized in mild mental diseases; he understood and spoke words like dysfunctional disorder, gradual inset, regression. But now for the second time in his life all the notions he knew could not help to soothe the pain, they weren’t enough to convert it into a mere electric current to his synapses. For the second time in his life, inside him the scientist was silent and the man was screaming.

The first time it had occurred was when Violet’s disease had become a reality; he had always suspected something was wrong, but he hoped – he tried to persuade himself, it was just the excessive paranoia of an analyst towards his only child. But, he was wrong then...

He didn’t cope with pain alone, though: Nancy was there with him, always with him, at any moment, and together they had leaned on each other like wounded soldiers surviving a crash and they had managed to go on.

But this time he was alone, because two days before Nancy was dead.

Doctor Pierron sighed and gathered his strength to face all the people who were there for the funeral of his wife.

He sensed a hand on his shoulder and he turned over.

A woman stood before him. She was tall and elegant, and she kept her chin up with the mutual elegance and strength of a figure of power; her chestnut brown hair was pulled up, hardening the lines of her face, but her dark eyes were warm and the line of her lips soft.

“Walter,” she said simply, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Doctor Pierron hadn’t seen Lena Olin in eight years; her voice sounded familiar to his ears, thanks to the regular phone calls they had been exchanging twice a month for years; the calls diminished when Nancy fell ill, but never stopped completely.

They had met on their first week of college, in one of the main campuses of the Loyola University in Chicago. Walter and Nancy had been married for three months.

Now, sixteen years later, he was a potentially award-winning psychiatrist who had consciously chosen to keep a low profile to ensure himself a wider space of action for his research on the field, and she was a Lieutenant General of the U.S. Air force with a master degree in construction engineering and another quantum mechanics, based in Geneva, Switzerland, working with the CERN.

They were two brilliant professionals, probably more skilled than they wanted everybody to know, different but complementary in their personalities and fields of action, like once Walter had told Nancy:
“Lena has been studying the energies and impulses that cause reactions among things in nature, leaving it to me to observe what the same reactions do within the human mind.”

They were smart, bordering genius, determined, lucid, aware of themselves and of the world around them to the last particle of it; but in that moment it was all forgotten, and there they were, just the two of them. She was only a woman, looking into the eyes of one of her closest friends, whose wife had just died.

“Thanks for coming.” Pierron simply said; the woman nodded, without proffering a word. She just kept her hand on his forearm and squeezed gently.
“You shouldn’t have.” He probed gently, but she gave an impatient scroll of her head, and for an instant the eyes of Pierron gleamed behind the lenses, the excruciating pain forgotten, and he was back to his usual self.

“Oh, but you hurried too much to dismiss my concern! So I must suppose there’s something else behind your visit, apart from your wish to support me, that I immensely appreciate. Is it correct, Lena?”

“Yes.” The woman stated briefly. She was used to going straight to the point and the embarrassing surroundings seemed not to affect her; but the line of her mouth was still soft when she spoke.

“Yes, there’s another reason why I am here, Walter.”

For a moment she seemed to consider the impact of her words, or maybe, their inadequacy to that instant, before deciding it was not awkward enough to prevent her from talking.

“It’s about my project, Walter.” She had been talking softly, but her eyes suddenly shone, “I think I found a way.”

The heart of Doctor Pierron gave a tired leap: the pain was still there, shrinking his spirit, but in his voice there was a new energy, the first sparkle of life since the death of his wife.

“Really?” he croaked, “How?”

Olin squeezed his forearm again.

“It’s long and complicated, but in a few words, let’s say I need your help.” She stirred her lips; her long-time friend was looking at her with a new, pristine light in his eyes, and she sighed inside, knowing that what she was about to say would have probably extinguished it again.

“… Walt…” she probed in, as gently as she could, “… I also need Violet.”

The eyes of the man widened in surprise, blocking out any other feeling: his mind projected itself out of that room, upstairs, to the second door on the right of the corridor: Violet.

He saw his five-year-old daughter like he was watching though the wall.

She sat cuddled in the small space between the wall and her bed, knees pulled to her tiny chest and embracing her legs. Her long brown hair fell to partially hide her little, beautifully creamy face, and her big brown eyes gazed down: she was counting on her fingers, without emitting a sound.

Doctor Pierron knew that from the closed door of the bedroom the voices of the guests of the funeral reception could still be heard, but that Violet wasn’t listening to them.

Violet was immerged into a thick, impenetrable silence, and she stuck out her chubby fingers in a restless, endless count. She could not hear those voices.

Because Violet Pierron was autistic.

-----------------------------



.... Sorry, Wifey!!! :tsk: :diavolo:

I am soo excited to see that you have decided to start posting this gem.
I have been looking forward to it ever since you came up with the idea on our msn convo.
*bounces*

So first some reactions (you know I cannot resist, right? :blush: )

Ah I love the promising sound of this. We have enough of those other stories around here and I think it is very courageous of you to attempt writing something very different. And I know it will be good, spectacular and mind boggeling. Besides I love originality...it is something I value very much. And you sure have something original here.

*hugs* I think that anyone who knows you a bit can only agree to what you are saying here. You always are respectful and open-minded. It is one of those things that makes you such a great, caring and sweet person.

I can only speak for myself; but your character descriptions are always stunningly accurate. I can only feel flattered for being in this.

:love: thanks babe. You deserved it all!!!!

(next post will be about the chappie :blush: )

So here is my next post about your prologue.

To me this is an example of what a good prologue should contain.
Identification, sympathy, mystery, promising characters and that what I will call the x-factor (granted I know this is a much used term but it works for me). Something that makes a story shine, something that you cannot point out but is present in the story. A lifeliness that immediatly calls out to the willing suspension of disbelief. Something every great story holds.

The way you introduce the character of Dr. Pierron immediatly establishes sympathy and a bond with this character. Who cannot feel for a man who is grieving fir sucha terrible loss. A man that is defenseless against his grieve despite his knowledge. It is very smooth, the way in which you tell about this man, about his life, loves, pains and frustrations. He becomes instantly real, human, a person with whiom you would and could talk. Brilliant!!

With the introduction of the other character you dp the same clever thing. Comparing them and in that way telling about their relation, their background and what holds them together. She also introduces the mystery and the tingling feelng of something is about to happen. Something that will sweep us up and holds us in its grip, t never let go until we have read and seen it all.

Like I said it is a brilliant prologue and I loved every word in it. I enjoyed it tremedously and I am looking forward to reading more. It moved me and that is for me an important thing!

:hug:

Ciao Anna,
so glad to read that you're posting a new story, and what a story!!!!
Glad you thought of me also when you wrote it, glad to notice that you're an amazing writers and that the feedback I gave you on MSN is totally valid!
This prologue introduces us into something misterious and promising, and although I know I always say so, but I do wnat to try and stay current with this story, my gal!

:love: :love: :love: :love: :love:

PS Apologies if this message looks more like a rant rather than a comment, especially if you read it after two great posts of Dana's, but this is all I can come up with after a long/hard working week.
Hope to talk to you on MSN soon!
Baci
Ursi

Anna! Hey :)

Uh you posted it - the mystery project! *grins*
And what a start, gosh I love it so much! It was so delicately written and the setting and characters so intrecately established - it's mind-blowing! Like you know sometimes we might be driven to read stories from our friend because - well, because they are our friends and we like the ideas and the comradery. But when we are totally honest we sometimes have to fight ourselves through over complicated phrasing or strange patches... Yours: the opposire, easily.
I started - and schwupdiwup (grin a little german here... I guess the english equivalent would be snicketysnack) it's finished. Way too quickly and way to flowingly in fact. *chuckles*

I love the characters and I love the actors you use - Lena Olin is so beautiful in that perfect hardened, scientific lady way. I can't seem to express myself right these days *lol*

Anyway - I thought I'd quote a bit. Not too much - just what sprung out to me...

Uhh yay - are you telling me we are getting the smut much earlier? Cause seriously waiting five long chapters is indeed a bit of a strech :laugh:.

:noangel:

What an interesting line - and very true too. I mean we all have probably experienced how depending on how we mentally feel towards pain (wallow in it, ignore it, distract ourself from it...) That we can influence it. I loved your description there and the brain-nudge you gave me ;).

Is there anything better to establish the perfect picture in your head then to use such a nice mix between comparison and antithesis. *grins* Impressive!

Uch! Perfect! I loved the descriptions here, it's so easy to 'jump into him' and you make it both beautiful and clear what he is feeling.

And now I really want to know how Violets autism is useful for Lena's project and generally wanna know much more about her - so... come'on. You what I want ;)

*huggles* Superb start, sweetie! [note the aliteration!^_^ ]

More soon?
:heartbeat: Laila

Yay. I know you told me he's in this, but yay. I seriously pumped both of my arms in the air when I saw that you'd posted this lovely piece. And, lord, you and your research! You don't need promotion, darling. We all kind of just flock here out of our own accord. Your stories have some sort of a magnetic force that just draws people there, not to be disappointed ever.

I really really cannot wait for this!! Plus, you put Marek on my banner, how could I not?

Moving on. The actual story.

:huh: Is there a specific reason for the name of that town? Hmm? hehe... Oh boy, we're probably going to jump twenty years, aren't we? Sweet.

Okay, this jumped out at me. I don't know if I'm grabbing at nonexistant straws here, but ... yeah. The name 'Loyola' gave me pleasant flashbacks.

I love alllll of your descriptions so much! This one was sweet and lovely though, showing how, no matter how much knowledge and science you know, you still deal with one of the most human things -- pain. Its inescapable, even for a genius scientist. Nobel and Pulitzer prizes don't exempt you from nerve endings and broken hearts.

Its really saddening that poor Vi's only five and her mother's died. I wonder how... and if the cause is important here. And, the fact that she's autistic? Wow, amazing. So, Lena needs an autistic child then? There's something there, autism is a fascinating disorder. Their concentration amazes me, and something about that is sticking out in my mind.

Oh, do post more soon! Gah! I can't wait for this to really kick off.

:heartbeat:
Sam

Oh SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And yes, we're all nuts. There, I said it! lol

I love how you can suck us right in, right from the first sentence. Straight away we're in that room with them, picturing everything so perfectly. And I love these two main characters already - that you've got a man and a woman, old friends, with no hint of sexual tension (yet?) which is so unusual to see. I can't wait to see how this is all going to progress, and I applaud you for making the decision to not write it as a 'let's introduce all the characters and their love lifes straight away' kind of fic, because I know that you'll develop these characters and all the others very delicately, and that'll take time, and I'm looking forward to going on that journey with them.

I have no idea if that last sentence made any sentence at all, and you know that I'm a crap replier, but I LOVE this, so post more soon, k?

:love:

More?!?!?!?! Please please please please please. Girl, you may have created the story that is going to suck me back into my EWAC addiction.

:love: Ally

I am in love with you all!!!!

Oh gosh, ladies, thank you so much for your kind replies! I was so nervous to start posting, because, like it always happens with my stories, i start losing readers at some pint down the way, and it really makes me wonder why my stories ain't interesting enough. :cry:

I am so happy and delighted to see you here, my dear dear girls! Now, let me answer to some of you, and let's see if I manage not to rant too much, this time:

Dana:

Gosh honey, I'll leave it to you to comment about a DISCLAIMER!! But you know I'm grateful you did, cuz there was some important stuff in that first, heavy part. And your replies always make me feel like I'm actually writing something serious, and you know what it means for me.

Sam:
boehaha, you are gonna find LOTS of references in this story, including to a certain LLI. About the Loyola, yeah, I guess that being not very familiar with US colleges it was easier for me to google those I already heard of. I swear the interent saved my life with this one.

Oh, and speaking of references, there's actually a city named Portia in Arkansas, i stumbed into this tiny bit of information while riting LOFTERS, and I found it so funny that the two twins both had a Shakespeare name and the name of an US city, so I had to put it in.

Just for you guys to know, the majority of fictionals names have references, at least in my little crazy head. Eh, I'm obsessed with trivia, among all other things.

Laila, yes, I'ma huge fan of Lena Olin, and after watching Alias I thought she was too perfect for this role. As far as the good old Doctor Pierron is involved..... well, you shall ask Amber about him!

And Ally!! Oh, it's so good to see you here honey! Well, dragging you back might sond a hard task, but I'm willing to give it a try, and if I gotta post soon to do it, heck, i will!

I really, really hope you girls are sticking around... there are some boring parts that i had to include, and I hope they won't take you down! Oh, damn, I shouldn't say that, but, you know me ;)

Thanks again!!

Hehe, well I welcome any and all references. You know, I just saw Deirdre's banner and my first thought was 'No fair,' then, it switched to the information part. Heeeh. Well, I just hope that our dear she-Michael has a high IQ, giving her that creative genius. Then again, she is a structural engineer, how could she not be a genius? I have to say, the LLI fascinated me when I saw that part. Its just amazing.

Post more soon. I need more!

:eek: :eeeek: That was amazing and so well written. You had me drawn in at the first few sentences. That was so great and I can not wait for more and read about all of this interesting plot line. :bow: Mena, you are a writing genius with this, I wait patiently for more.
:love:
~Kit-Kat~

WEEEE! I finally had a chance to read this (I've been trying since you posted it, heh), and now I'm so excited!! I started out as a psych major, so the idea of dealing with psych disorders flat out facinates me. I can't wait to see where you go with that. And this project too *is very intrigued* I can't imagine the connection, which is why I'm glad you're the one writing it, haha...

Fantastic prologue :) You've got me practically bouncing with anticipation for the next bit.

Till then! *waves and hurries back to schoolwork*

Yeah, I felt a bit guilty to nag so much information, but then I realized I had 5 characters to completely make up from stratch anyway, so...

I asked my dad about LLI,and he didn't know about it, boeahaha! So much for passively veggin' before the telly!

Kudos and a cookie if you notice any other reference, to any other thing, in the chapter to come. (I wanted to wait til tomorrow, but things are crazy here, so I'm posting a bit early).


Chapter one.

San Francisco, CA, 1987.

Nurse Babette Frenière was a black woman in her thirties, with a round face and sweet eyes. She was always very kind to her patients, but that time her frustration seemed to get the best of her: It was five in the morning on a Saturday in the ER ward of the Mt. Zion Medical Centre, and the waiting area was jam packed with patients, like always after a Friday night in a big city like San Francisco.

Nurse Frenière shot an exasperated glare at the little girl who cried, balled like a pile of rags in a corner, plastering her black hair to her face like she hoped to disappear inside it.

“It’s the third time this month!” she said with a well-notable hint of frustration to nobody in particular, looking at the kid.

A man approached. He wore black-rimed glasses and a white coat and she had never seen him before.

“I’ll take care of her.” He said with a reassuring smile, pointing at the other patients in the room. With a quizzical stare, Nurse Frenière saw the man kneel down beside the little girl and talk to her softly. After some long minutes the crying reduced to some desperate moans. The doctor led the girl into another room, closing the door behind them. Nurse Frenière looked at him through the glass as he sat before the little girl, whose face was still rimmed with tears, but her watery blue eyes were now fixed on the doctor’s face, and she had stopped crying.

“Hello, Blanche.” Doctor Pierron said to the little girl, who was staring at him, more relaxed but still clearly afraid, sucking her thumb,
“My name is Doctor Walter Pierron. Are you better now?” he spoke in a calm, soothing voice, but the lips of the little girl quivered again around her thumb.

“Your mommy and daddy are just out of this room,” Doctor Pierron went on, even more sweetly, “Do you want me to call them?”

Blanche’s eyes widened and she forcefully scrolled her head in denial.

“Just like I foresaw,” Doctor Pierron thought, smiling at the child, “She avoids intimacy, even with her own family… and she does it because she believes her parents don’t love her. Supposed parental rejection. But, she’s too young to be sure…”

“Blanche, I’d like to be your Doctor from now on.” He said gently, “What do you think? So, when you’ll be afraid again, you can call me and I’ll come for you. Do you want me to come for you?” he added sweetly.

Blanche pulled the thumb out of her mouth. Her blue eyes filled with tears again.

“Yes,” she said softly.

Dublin, Ireland, 1991.

Bayside is a residential suburb of Dublin, located near the Howth Island, almost facing the sea, a rough ten kilometers east the city centre. The houses are usually two story terraced or semi-detached cottages with front and back gardens.

It was three o’clock on a wet Saturday afternoon, and the weather was still warm enough for the grass to grow high and thick with stunning rapidity even in the forever-well-kept small back gardens.

Fabian O’Keefe lied on his back by the hedgerow at the end of the small garden, his lanky limbs sprawled carelessly on the wet grass. He was thin, like all Irish boys of sixteen, who never seem to eat enough to get more built, but only taller.

Fabian was looking at the crispy clouds running above his head. When the doorbell rang, he merely emitted a bored groan.

“Gideon!” he called through the open back door at his younger brother, “Go get it!”

“You go and get it!” a voice shouted from the living room.

“When ma’s not home you do what I say!” Fabian shot back, “I’m the oldest and in charge!”

“Then open the door, master chief!” Gideon replied with an ounce of satisfied irony in his voice. Fabian cursed, but he stretched up and walked through the house. The doorbell rang again.

On the other side of the door was a man with glasses he had never seen before.

“Good afternoon, my name is Walter Pierron, I’m a Doctor. Can I speak to Mrs. O’Keefe?”

“Ma’s not here. She works.” He explained, weighting the man before him. Despite his thinness, Fabian could look at him straight in the eye. “Something’s wrong? Ye sayd yer a doctor.”

“No, nothing wrong.” Doctor Pierron explained in a hurry, smiling even more, “just, I occasionally happen to visit the Scoil Mhuire agus Iosaf…”

Fabian nodded: it was the primary school of Bayside.

“…and I check the school reports of the pupils. That’s why I’d like to talk to your mom, I’d really like to have a word with her about Deidre.”

“Deidre?” Fabian asked suspiciously, “Wha’s abou’ Deidre? Is she sick?”

Doctor Pierron scrolled his head with a magisterial gesture of nonchalance.
“No, not at all! It’s not… that important, anyway.” He smiled, perfectly at ease, and Fabian relaxed a bit. He glanced inside the house.
“D’ye wanna come in?” he asked.

“It’s not necessary, I don’t mean to disturb you kids’ free afternoon.” He winked at Fabian, who grinned conspiratorially, “I’ll call next time to make sure your mom’s home.”

Saying so, he waved friendly, turned on his heels and rapidly disappeared behind the curve.
“Wha’ they wanted?” Gideon O’Keefe asked to his older brother who had just walked inside the living room with a slightly puzzled expression on his face.

“Talk to ma.” Fabian replied, “Abou’ Deidre.”

“About me?” a little girl said.

She was sitting on the carpet, and looked at her older brother with an expression of mild interest. Both Fabian and Gideon looked back at her, and the three of them shared an inquisitive look, that made their features look even more alike: the three O’Keefe were all pale and slightly freckled, with cerulean eyes and red hair.

Fabian shrugged at his sister of eleven, dismissing the topic.
“Wha’ yer doin’?” he asked, the mysterious man rapidly forgotten.

“Playin’ with Legos.” Gideon responded.

A mocking grin curled Fabian’s lips; he was about to ask his younger brother if he didn’t feel ashamed to still play such a childish game at thirteen years old, when he noticed the structure standing on the carpet.

“Whoa, Gid, that’s grand!” was all he could proffer instead. But, it was true: the huge bridge made of small plastic bricks was extraordinarily complicated, very thin at the bases but stretched in a very complicated structure, and Fabian wondered how it could not collapse in the middle; it looked like a very well done calculation of pushing leverages, and Fabian felt a pang of envy: the two brothers shared a passion for physics, but Fabian had to admit he would have had an hard time to build such a structure, even with Lego bars.

“Actually, it’s Deidre who made it.” Gideon confessed, almost ashamed.

Deidre lifted her limpid eyes on her brothers as they shared an incredulous look. She wondered why; it hadn’t been difficult at all.

Another very smooth introduction of characters.
It becomes almost instantly apparent what is wrong with the children Doctor Pierron seeks out. Yet you do it in such a way that it comes across as natural. No long winded, hard edge explanations.

No you show instead of tell and that is truly remarkable cause many writers have the tendency to tell things while it is better to let the characters show what is going on. You have the gift to paint a picture with a few well chosen words, character, habbits, problems and history...it is all there. It is easy to identify with these characters, to feel sympathy and curiosity towards them. They are real and they are that from the first moment we meet them.

And of course I had to quote this:

Sublime interaction...I loved it dearly.

And this was brilliant to the core cause it shows very subtily why Doctor Pierron is looking up this girl.

:hug:

*hangs head* I'm sorry I haven't reviewed lately Mena, when I saw the banners for this, I told myself, I had to read it because I work with children who have most of those mental illnesses and it's going to be cool seeing them as adults growing up. I work with many autistic children and I love how you portrayed Violet (sorry Am lol)

I can't help, but feel sorry and have respect for Dr. Pierron. He sounds like a very intelligent character, just like the author. Yes you are intelligent Mena, one of the best writers I have ever come across if it matters coming from me lol.

I love this so far, I can't wait to see more :)

Katie

P.S. I love Michael Crichton's stuff too, especially Timeline, I think that's why Sam and I bonded a bit, cuz of our obsession with Gerry Butler lol. And once more, thanks for the banner for Gone :)

Wow, very intriguing and I am so curious to find out what all these backstories have in common with this tory, besides meeting Dr. Pierion and have complicated disorders. I am wait patinetly for another chapter.
:love:
~Kit-Kat~

Well, the only reference I'm seeing now is Fabian and Gideon. Those are the names of Molly (Prewett) Weasley's older brothers.

As for the chapter. I'm really intrigued by Blanche's disorder. It seems so unfortunate, a child who's never sure of being loved by her parents and so, in turn, afraid of intimacy. What sort of parents has she? I mean, come on! For some disorder like that to develop, it would seem odd if it just developed with Mr and Mrs Brady for mom and dad... Cletus is good, great, amazing. He seems so fatherly and loving and truly out for the good of the children. But, then again, maybe he's scheming. It would seem a bit odd that he goes straight to the kids, not going through the parents first or anything. Well, maybe that's just with Blanche, since that's what he planned with Mrs O'Keefe, eh?

I have no words for Deirdre. I just am fascinated by that disorder. honestly, amongst things like autism, it seems a total gift. So long as you've got that high IQ, right? I have this feeling that she's one of the keys to building the structure, or maybe keeping it viable...

Well, I'm glad you posted sooner. Hehe, now if only I could get you to do that every day... my life would be fulfilled!

:heartbeat:
Samma

Oooo... so now we have an introduction to three girls (Violet, Blanche and Deidre)... *ponders* So their obvious connection is disorders, and Dr Pierron's interest in them... But then there's the whole "project" thing to consider... curious, veeeerrrry curious... :)

(I just realized that I basically said the same thing as Kit-Kat *laughs* My bad...)

Annnnyway, tis still great, still intriguing, and I can't wait to see how it develops :)

Ttfn!

Oh SQUEEEEE!! I've been trying to reply to this since yesterday, but my computer's being a bitch again...

But I'm finally here! And I agree with Dana, you do have a knack for letting the characters explain things rather than just straight out TELL us what's happening. I mean, in that chap you gave us so little information about the girls, and yet told us so much about them that we're all intrigued to see exactly where they'll end up!

Oh, and me being a dumbass and knowing NOTHING about psychology is extremely curious about all the illnesses on the banners...I'm very tempted to go and google them all! lol

Pretty please post more soon!!!

:love:

It makes my world a better place to have this up. Indeed, it does. :hug: And, you say you blame me for having Fabio in it....well, you should blame me for this, too...

CLETUS HERO, you mean. :lol: I feel so glad to see him here. I was just speaking of him the other night and my endless love, devotion, and joy I feel for him. Why is he such a king and wondrous human being? I am so glad you made him the key guy here. And, the Daddy Cletus, too, of course. :wub:

As I wanted to say, I love the opening at Nancy's funeral (though of course, how sad for poor Cletus and wifey!) and I adore the description you gave of Violet up in her room locked in her mind and counting on her fingers. It made the reader see the child so well, because a kid that unaffected by the death of a mother would truly have to have a heavy mind altering disease going on and I think that showed it well. I could picture her small little face so clearly. Perfect!

Aww, and I also love the way you brought Deirdre into the story.

Her little thoughts about it not being hard at all were innocent and like a child and with that naive air of an innocent that couldn't really comprehend the true magnitude of what she just accomplished. I really liked that whole bit.

And, poor little Blanche. Already doubting the love of her family unit. But, too young to be sure...it is strange how the complicated minds of these characters are working already, but I love them all so!

I love this just like I love New York.

Oi!
New chapter and I completely missed the fact that it was there!
But I must say - I love this story so much and its only two installments in! It's just so incredibly gripping.
Who is Blanche - and what happened to her? And gosh, Pierron is such a darling.
And don't get me started on the O'Keefe Kids, they are perfect. I love their interactions and the way they behave. And then dun dun dun - Deirdre.
Now what will happen to her and what does Pierron want to talk about? Uch... I want to know more! :mistress: Now! *lol*

I really like how that is the first time you introduce her. It#s perfect, like it makes that "ahaaa!" lightbulb in your head just pop! Gorgeous!

And this of course, the innocence of it is just beautiful! And so... gripping. Gosh, I adore your character-work!

More soon?
:heartbeat: Laila

Ahhhhh it is here and it is so freaking fabulous that I am almost speechless.

First off, I love that Cletus is in this. He makes the perfect Doctor, and of course father for our darling Violet.

As everyone else has commented, I love how this is flowing. I think with a story that has so much technical information (all the psychological disorders, the time traveling, etc etc, essentially everything you researched) it is easy for the story to become choppy and difficult to read.

But that is not the case, it flows so smoothly. The introduction to your characters is perfect, as always. You always have such a way with that.

So, I'm really intrigued to see the backstory to all the other girls and how you introduce us to them.

And I'm highly intrigued by this whole "project".

More, please and thank you. :love:

P.S. Sorry for the crappy comments, my brain is fried after a long long day of class, work and more class.

Awww, my Mone', this is such a huge compliment coming from you!!

Whoa, girls, I'm delighted that you're sticking 'round! I must confess, I was quite suspicious about this way of introducing characters, because I usually have the tendency not to leave anything out, and so, explain too much. I am experimenting a bit in this, so thanks for your confirmations!

And Laila, you're right when saying that we are often pushed to read friends' stories because they are... well, friends'! As an author, it means so much to me that you say you'd read this anyway.

I won't lie, it's fun to write thi, although I don't like all chapters the same... but stay here, and I promise I won't tell what they are! Of course, suggestions and critics are more than welcome.

And, Sam...

*pats* that's my girl!!!

I'm glad you are enjoying the idea of mental illness... it was the classical lightbulbturning on in my head!

More, anyone? This part is not betaed, apologies apologies!

Chapter two.

Paris, France, 1998.

“I can assure you, Mrs. Bouvier, that Roseanna’s grades put her on the top of the list for this study exchange.” Doctor Pierron smiled at the woman and the girl sitting on the other side of his desk. He glanced at the open folder before him.
“And it could not be otherwise: these marks are outstanding, especially those concerning the linguistic subjects. Here I read you speak French, English, Spanish, Italian, German, Dutch and Russian fluently, is it correct?”

Roseanna nodded.

“And you’re only fifteen. Impressive.” Doctor Pierron smiled at the light of pride shining in the eyes of the girl. She was minute, pale, but her red hair and colored clothes seemed to warm up and brighten her features that, otherwise, would have looked even too delicate. Doctor Pierron had been in her presence for barely ten minutes, but he knew that those grey eyes could have easily turned into ice and steel, if their owner had wanted so, and something inside him confirmed that Roseanna had already learnt to master the power of those eyes very well, despite her young age.

“So, Rome for three weeks, Greece for two and Israel for another three, quite an adventure.”

Roseanna’s lips broke open in a smile that was wider than how she intended.
“I would like to begin studying some of the ancient languages,” she said, and a light shake in her voice and an almost-feverish light in her eyes betrayed her eager enthusiasm,
“Latin, ancient Greek and Hebraic.”

Doctor Pierron tilted his head aside to study her.
“Usually students focus on this field of linguistics once they get to college,” he said lightly, but Roseanna flinched, offended.
“But it’s better to start early, in the end.” He flashed at her a smile of approval, and Roseanna smiled again, relaxed.

“Just…” Doctor Pierron seemed to hesitate, trying to mask the amusement in his voice,
“Two or three weeks are barely enough even to approach such complicated languages.”

Roseanna tossed an indulgent smile at the man; he didn’t know what she was capable of doing! But she didn’t feel offended by his clear hesitance, instead, she felt a pleasant tingle inside: the warm, thrilling awareness of cherishing a little secret.
“Time’s not a problem.”

She focused in looking out the window, and so missed Doctor Pierron’s satisfied glance. She didn’t know he shared her secret, a secret that even her parents ignored ever since, at five years old, she had realized it worried them and she had began to hide it.

Still, unbeknownst to her, Doctor Pierron knew that Roseanna Bouvier hadn’t slept a minute in her whole life.

Ottawa, Canada, 2000.

“Why, Samantha, why?” the Headmistress squeaked, squeezing her small hands and shooting her an imploring glare. Samantha looked at the old woman, biting her lower lip not to laugh in her face: with those pleading eyes she looked more like a love-famished puppy than an Headmistress of a Secondary School.

“It’s the fourth time this month, the twelfth from the start of the term.” The Headmistress went on, trying to sound harsh, but emitting only a pathetic squeal.

“A squirrel, that’s what she seems,“ Sam thought, “A soaked squirrel.” She bit her lower lip harder.

“Sam, you broke her nose.” The Headmistress sighed at the involuntary grin on the face of the girl before her. She tried her last,
“Sam, next year you’ll be fifteen. The law will be more and more strict with you as years go by… if you don’t want to behave for the sake of others, then do it for your own.”

Sam was looking at the floor, apparently lost in thought, but actually to prevent the Headmistress to see her amused smile.
“This old cow is basically telling me I have four years left before becoming of age. It’s a fucking long amount of time… plenty of time to show these suckers who’s the boss.”

“Samantha, are you listening to me?” the Headmistress called again, her voice a tremulous pitch.

Samantha Kerr lifted her hazel eyes on the woman.
“Yes, Miss.” She said in a submissive tone.

“Well, then, you can go back to class now.”

Samantha took her time in getting up and out the office she knew better than any other room in the Cairine Wilson Secondary School. Just out the office of the Headmistress was a tall man in his middle-fifties, who wore thick glasses and who bumped into her on the threshold. Samantha’s eyes blazed.

“Sorry!” the man apologized sheepishly, “Us old people never mind our steps.” He winked at her entering the office.

Samantha chuckled. That old man was a smart cookie.

Doctor Pierron kept his eyes fixed on the back of the red head of Samantha Kerr as the girl walked lazily back to her classroom. He was smiling.

Evanston, Chicago, IL, 2001.

“Come, Nyla, hurry up!” Sarah, her roommate, called, and Nyla Goldstein ran out the room, the hairclip held between her lips and her long blonde hair still flowing like a waterfall down her shoulders; they breezed out the dormitory and ran through the half-empty campus, laughing, and Nyla could not resist spreading her arms open and making a pirouette, laughing merrily, her blue eyes wide to stare at the blue sky.
“Life is beautiful.” Nyla thought, and right then she had all reasons to believe it.

Soon she and Sarah would have moved to a new apartment near the Magnificent Mile, and Nyla was busting with pride and excitement. Both had been accepted for a major at the Northwestern University's Feinberg School of Medicine, and Nyla could not wait.

“But not now,” she told herself, “Now it’s only pure fun for a whole month.” She breathed the air coming from the lake, her eyes squinting in the distance: the sky was of an intense shade of blue, and the grass even too green to be true. The sun shined with blessed kindness on her face, and Nyla felt her stomach growl and a soft tingle spread and irradiate inside her: sometimes, she felt like the nature around her was even too beautiful to behold, and the miracles that she witnessed every day pulled deep strings at the depth of her heart: sometimes, even the perfect shape of a drop of water on the windshield of a car made her heart race faster.

“Oh, look, they’re carrying the scenes for the Waa-Mu.” Sarah pointed at a group of students.

They were strolling towards them in the direction of the campus, carrying what seemed a giant panel, covered in a protective tissue and plastic, above their heads. Two of three of them were the typical sweater of the Northwestern Wildcats, with its tiger roaring from the purple N.

Nyla could tell by the way the students were proceeding - so quickly and with so much care - that the huge panel had to be the main background scenery for the Waa-Mu, the original music that every year the students of the Northwestern write and perform. That year, according to Sarah, the musical would be about the Last Judgment.

“Let’s go have a look at it.” Sarah nudged her.

The students had stopped to catch their breath. Cautiously, they put the panel down on the wider side, and they kept it vertical propping against it on the grass bordering the campus. Approaching, Nyla realized how big it was: the heads of the students could not be seen behind it, and it had to be nearly 20 feet long.

“Hey, Jordan!” Sarah addressed one of the students, “Let us see it!”

Jordan rolled his eyes.
“It’s the fucking Sistine Chapel Ceiling, everybody knows it, do you really have to look at it now?”

“Come on!” Sarah replied, coming even closer and dragging Nyla with her, “We never saw it so big and the replicas for the Waa-Mu are always perfect! I wanna look at it closely before you set the scenery.”

Jordan shared some hushed words with his friends. Around them people had started to gather, waiting.
“All right then!” they said, and with a theatrical gesture they pulled the white protective sheet off the panel.

Nyla stared at the image, and her head began to spin. Suddenly, her heart started to race in her chest, fast… too fast. She tried to breathe regularly, but her throat was closed, and air could not pass. She was chocking.

Her head spun painfully, her eyes filled with tears and started to prickle. A million needles pierced her heart.
“I’m dying…” Nyla thought before plunging into darkness.

When she woke up she was lying in a bed of the infirmary. On a chair by her bed was a man in his sixties who wore glasses and a white coat and had a kind smile on his face. She was sure she had never seen him before.
“What… what happened?” Nyla croaked. She still felt dizzy. “Who are you?”

The man tilted in.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “My name is Walter Pierron, I’m a Doctor.”

Oh wow, I wonder if Nyla had a panic attack or something...okay I confess I don't know much about Nyla's illness...lol.

However this is great Mena, great chapter. Can't wait to see more :)

Katie

Interesting to see how Doctor Pierron is traveling around the world and coming closer to characters that are "special" in a way that is common to all of them although far away the ones from the others (although I have a feeling that Doctor Pierron is the the main thing they'll have soon in common... I mean, I see him like Professor X of X-Men that dedicates his life in helping the mutants in knowing accepting themselves and improving their superpowers).
Everything seems already enough intricated, although I'm sure you'll help us perfectly in districating the web of your great design.

:love:

Whoosh! That was a lot to take in *laughs* But marvelously done of course. I'm so excited to find out why the Dr's going around recruiting these girls: How can their disorders assist him in anyway? So strange... Intriguing, hehe....

Totally made me think of X-men too! Which is super exciting because I effing love X-men :D (Actually, I was busy working on an X-men fanfic this summer instead of working on LG, heh...hehe). Yay!

Really hun, I'm uber excited to find out where this all leads. Esp since you're the one leading it there, hehe (And I mean, c'mon, after DLT, how could I not be excited? Heh!)

Can't wait! :)

Oh squee, there's more!!

So, Roseanna, Sam and Nyla, huh? Troublemakers, all three of 'em!! lol Once again, I'm really looking forward to learning about the conditions that all the girls have, 'cuz already I'm intrigued by all of the characters!! Post more soon!!

Ha another brilliant chappie
Gosh it is such a nice way to start the day.
It makes me feel very very happy and excited.

Three more brilliant introductions,
and I am mightily intrigued by the disorders they suffer from.
Makes me want to google them indeed :blush:

This strikes me as so horrible. I mean it is obvious the girl involved doesn't think so but I must say that being able to escape this world every night for some time is to me a blessing. I cannot imagine how it would be to be constantly conscious.

And a girl like this would seriously scare the crap out of me. I wonder why she is this way.

Blurgh that sounds very much like a panic attack but I have the idea there is more to it then that.

Great introductions sweetie
:hug:

Wow... intense one.
Three new characters... *makes mental notes not to forget anything...*

So. Roseanna. Somehow she puts me on edge, I can't explain. But at least with her you tell us something *lol*. She doesn't sleep - hmmm interesting. Is that an actual medical condition? *wonders...* is that possible?
Well but anyway, i don't entirely trust her I think.

Same goes for Sam, but maybe less so because she is so obviously difficult. Scary though but I can't wait to see why Pierron was smiling and sort of submitting to her feeling of superority and how he will help her.

*lol* and last but not least. Nyla. Now that one is really cryptic. And I mean that in the best of ways. She totally kept me on my toes, what is it that made her faint? The beauty of it? The overwhelming sensations in her brain? I have no f*** clue.
But I can only applaud your posting rate - means I don't have to wait long for more :)

*hugs*
:heartbeat: Laila

Have I told you lately how freaking brilliant you are? Because if I haven't, let me take the time right now.

Mena, you are bloody brilliant! (but imagine me saying this just like Ronald Weasley!!! :lol: )

Anyway, girl, first off, I need to applaud you again for your research. You can really tell in the story (well, it was pretty apparent to me in Nyla's storyline. Living in Milwaukee and being so close to Chicago I was amazed at all the details that you put in about Northwestern and the location).

Okay, so I have to admit, I did google the disorders that I was not familiar with. That being said, wow, girl you are doing an amazing job presenting the girls and their symptoms.

Roseanna - hm, I have to agree with Laila, there is something quite unsettling about her. The idea that she hasn't slept is what kind of freaks me out. But that would be why she has been able to accomplish so much at such a young age.

Talk about research, our beloved Dr. Pierron seems to have done some of his own. He almost seems quite pleased to have met these girls. Probably because it is all part of the grand plan.

Samantha - alright, she is another unsettling figure. So defiant, so angry, so detached from normal emotions. That to me is scary. Like Dana, I wonder why she has so much hostility toward others in general.

And lastly, Nyla, saved my favorite for last (but then again, I'm pretty biased! -_- )! As I said before, I googled the syndromes that I knew nothing about. And Stendahl's was one that I knew nothing about. From what I learned, girl, I have to say, you did an amazing job describing Nyla's feelings and her physical reactions. Seriously, I just sat there and nodded my head, kind of my way of validating that the words you chose for this character were just so perfect.

Ooooh, to say that I am excited for more would be an understatement. I'm honestly at the edge of my seat waiting for more. I can't wait to see where this story takes us.

:getdown: Of course, haha.

Okay, lets see here. I read this a couple of days ago before school and didn't have time to type a proper reply, so here I am. You should know you started off my day more-than-pleasantly, hehe. By the way, Michael sends his greeting, and agrees. Redheads are the best. ^_^

Miss Bouvier. Oh man, this is amazing. What was it that Haywire had? neuro-anatomic lesion affecting his reticular activating system, is that right? More importantly, what does that have to do with her mania? And what is her fascination with linguistics? How does she learn them so fast? Even with a full twenty-four hours a day, how does someone master a language in a matter of weeks?

Heh. Heh. Heh. Oh man, my character made me giggle. She's just so creepy. And devious. And she's got that defying-authority thing down. What is it about her disorder that he could possibly want? I can imagine he'd like Roseanna for her ability to store information or something like that. And Deirdre for obvious reasons. Or is it their disorders that qualify them? Good lord, woman, you just leave me with more and more questions.

Hah! Northwestern Medical! ("You graduated two years before I did." heeh) You researched yourself out in this one, Mena. You must have absorbed so much about this Waa-Mu and Magnificent Mile and everything, because it all just flowed inside the paragraphs. Like you actually attended. Now, my first question on this one is -- what was it about that painting that triggered Nyla's panic attack/seisure thing? It had to be something like that. Her Stendhal's Syndrome (or whatever it is) is unfamiliar to me. Those banners of yours make me want to research whats unobvious about them. Some, you can tell by the name what's going on, but a named syndrome? I've got nothing on that.

You really need to post, woman! I am really loving this. And you end them all on a perfect note. I especially adored the ending statement of Roseanna's section.

:heartbeat:
Samma

Thank you so much for all of your wonderful replies!
I'm glad you like Doc Pierron. Yes, he is somehow like Professor X, and a bit like Dumbledore, as well!

I had fun research all those mental diseases, and it's a great pleasure that you find them interesting as well. Don't worry, everything will be explained in some chapters, what exactly all the girls have and why they need them...

To Sam:

:blink: that's right... but i hope you checked this out, cuz I really couldn't remember it otherwise! Still, Roseanna is a bit different... same result, different causes. Anyway, you'll see. :tsk:

And, Blondie:

that's very flattering that you say so, since I've never been in the US and I always wonder if my descriptions are correct!

On to post more... this is for Dana. :wub:

Chapter three.

2006.

Pompei, Italy.

They were all laughing at her. It was like all the previous times.
She was standing naked in the middle of the room, and the laughter seemed to come from all directions. The peels of mocking voices reached her like arrows, shot by faceless archers, hitting every spot of her unarmed body, and she wished they were harder, faster, that they could actually pierce her flesh and hurt her body like they were hurting her mind. She craved for the deliverance of physical pain, she wished her senses would numb, overcome by it. She wished her knees would buckle and she would collapse and fade into darkness, into a deeper layer of unconsciousness, deeper, in the void of shade, where she would be alone.
“Useless, useless, useless..” they chanted all around her. She cried, covering her eyes like a little girl, peeking between her fingers, praying in a moaning beg they’d stop hurting her.
She couldn’t see their faces, she never did, but she knew who they were: she knew they were family, friends, acquaintances. She knew every single person she met in her life was there, in that high-ceiled room, pointing a shaking finger towards her.

They despised her, and they had any right to do so, right as they had any right to despise the dirt stuck under their shoes. She was nothing brighter, nothing better. The voice were growing louder, piercing her temples, and finally, the blessed moment she had been praying for came: her knees buckled and she fell on the cold floor, and eventually, darkness came.

Blanche Jennings snapped her head up from her crossed arms; her heart raced wildly in her chest and something warm and wet was on her face. She touched her cheeks; she didn’t realize she was crying.

She trembled, remembering the dream: she recalled the mocking laughter in her ears, the pointed fingers. She frightenly turned around to check, and her chair creaked in the small space of her solitary office; but the faceless ghosts had disappeared, and she was alone again.

Blanche’s hands were still shaking. She glanced at the photos on her desk, grateful to the plastic folder protecting them. Her eyes surveyed the image of the marble tombstone, before lifting her glance to the opposite side of the small office, where the original piece of marble had been cautiously out to stand against an iron dock.

She let the quiet of the small place invade her: she glanced with affection at the artifacts that packed the small room. On her left, three amphoraes stood in a corner, near a desk supporting piles of documents; On the longer table on the right side she distinguished smaller, creaked pottery and a series of glass jewels covered with sand, as well as her microscope, brushes and reactive powder cups; the thermoluminescence dating kit lied where she had left it; looking at it, Blanche seemed to remember the marble tombstone she was analyzing, whose pictures she had now in front of her.

She squinted her eyes on the inscriptions, but the Latin words burned her eyes back, dancing mockingly and refusing to reveal their mysteries. Blanche sighed: she wasn’t apparently going to focus that night.

She titled her head down, pondering on her plans. She really wanted to have that translation finished that evening, but she learnt long ago to read the signs of a no-no night: she knew she would have sat there, glaring at the original text, unable to get a word out of it, or even worse, scrambling a rough translation that could lead her to the wrong direction. The only choice left was to relinquish her work and head out.

She sighed: she didn’t want to leave the protective shelter of her small, isolated office at the end of the research field, not yet; she felt safe there, safer than outside, among all those people that, although apparently kind, couldn’t hide their dislike in her behalf.

It had always been like that, since she was a kid: all around, people looked at her differently, snobbed her presence, shunned away her attempts of affection: she wondered why she always got it wrong… probably it was her, who was wrong.

“It’s not true, and you know it.” A voice warned her inside her head, “People actually like you; it’s all in your head, darling, you have a disease, it’s not your fault.”

“It’s not my fault…” she said aloud, trying so desperately to believe it. But another voice grew stronger in her head, hissing subtly that it was all a lie, that she was perfectly healthy… a useless piece of filth, but healthy… and sane.

That was why Blanche enjoyed to be alone, to avoid seeing the loath and the amusement in people’s eyes. She’d rather sit for long hours among the silent artifacts, analyzing them, brushing their secrets in the open: the stone was blind, it didn’t have eyes to kill.

She was grateful of that job that kept her safe: she had been lucky to get it: of course it would have never been possible without the help of Doctor Pierron.

Thinking about the old man, Blanche’s heart warmed up a bit: she could still remember the first time she met him, when she was still a little girl, in San Francisco. It had taken Blanche a long time to accept that Doctor Pierron didn’t hate her, that he didn’t consider her useless; he had always been supporting her through the years, helping her when the world was too hard, when people was too cruel. She lost count of all times she had called him in tears, after a nightmare-filled night or a bad day at school, where even the shyest of students could easily bull her.
And he had always listened to her, reassuring her, comforting her, explaining that she was a good girl, smart and brilliant, and how people around her knew it and respected her for it. He told her the disease she was suffering of.

Doctor Pierron pushed her to enroll at the UCLA, although she was dead sure she wouldn’t make it; the brilliant outcome had surprised her, but not him; and later, he had been supporting her in her quest for a job.

Doctor Pierron cared about her, Blanche knew it; he was the one to know how she felt; he had explained to her parents what was wrong with Blanche, but she knew they didn’t believe him: how could they? Blanche had always been a problem, not like her perfect, sweet, brilliant younger sister, Linda. She sighed again: Linda was truly an amazing person and Blanche wondered how things would have been if she had been worthy he sister’s love.

Blanche didn’t have friends: how could she?

“This is not true, again.” The voice said.

Okay, maybe there were some people who didn’t hate her… who maybe considered her just a mild-freak; but it was enough, it was all she could aspire to.
Her eyes ran to a picture, stuck to the door with taper; every time she looked at it her heart felt warmer, but she didn’t dare to do it too often for fear of realizing it wasn’t true.

It had been taken a couple of years before at the Niagara Falls: the group of girls smiled at the camera and at Blanche; they were all there: Violet in the middle, with Sam clutched protectively to her arm, sandwiched between her and Roseanna. Nyla stood on the other side of Violet, her head tilted towards Deidre. And to Deidre’s side, it was Blanche.

Her lips curled in a small smile, breaking her resistance; soon she would have seen them again… her friends.

*hugs*
I feel honored and flattered and I think you are one of the few people here who knows exactly what it means to me!

Ok on to the chappie.
I must say that I found this a very touching and very sad chapter.
I think that you described very well what she is suffering from,
how it affects her life and how she is trying to cope with it.

Beside that; you have very cleverly revealed certain pieces of crucial information.
The role of doctor Pierron in her life, how her life has been so far, what her job is and her connection to other people and in particular the place of the other girls in her life. Girls that we have seen pop up in the other chapters and aparently all have been brought together.

The dream was very heart wrenching and it made me flinch.
Such thoughts, ideas and experiences are difficult to convey yet you have done it brilliantly.
I won't tell you how much I recognised in it here but you can believe me that you show much understanding and inside in such things.

Once again you display things instead of telling it and the effect is stunning and feels like being hit on the head with something hard and heavy.
Second I loved the part in which there is a second voice in her head that tell how she is wrong. It shows an internal struggle that never will end but can be meloowed down with the right kind of treatment. As you suggest when she is thinking of doctor Pierron.

There is a glaring loneliness in this and I could not help but be reminded of my own character in lofters who shows many similarities with this girl (which is after all not to surprising :lalala: ) The fact that she rather burries herself in her work is not so strange when you feel and think like this. Artefacts, language are rather safe in comparison.

He is her safe haven. The one she clings to when she is in distress and I love how you showed that in just a couple of lines. A world of care and endless conversations. Of help and searching for help can be seen behind it.

And finally this last part...which balances the sadness of the chapter. Which shows there are people in her life who she cares about and with whom she shares friendship. It is a great way to show how all these girls know each other and are connected.

Loved it very much. Brilliant writing sweetie!
:hug:

Ok Mena, I am a bad replier. I forgot to reply to the last chapter and I have now caught up. Great chapters, I am interested to see how they all became friends and the whole plot lines with their diseases and traveling back in time. Update soon and I promise the next chapter I will give a better reply.
:love:
~Kit-Kat~

Yay! X-men reunion- er X..women... P-women? Ew, no, that does work....

*sigh*

Anyway, so now we know that they really do all get together in a group, etc. But what does this all mean??? *ponders*

Great chapter by the way; I love how you got into her head. The arguing- now that I can relate to (though surely not to the extent that she deals with it). Nicely done :)

Can't wait for more :D Ttfn!

Ooh, so we dig a little deeper into the disorders - this is what I've been waiting for! Poor Blanche, what a horrible thing to go through - but at least she does have her friends.

And have I mentioned yet that I love the dear doctor as well? You manage to make him so warm, when it would be very easy to portray him as a creepy old man. Squee, great chap!!!

:love:

I'm such a crap replier! :cry: I've just been so sick, baby. I hate that I haven't been around to praise your story like you deserve. Damn the drugs and the things they do to my brain! :wacko:

Anyhow, I just wanted to say how heartbreaking Blanche's chapter is. I suppose because every person can sympathize with that situation where you feel like everyone hates you or maybe everyone is judging you...but eventually, that time passes and you can realize it isn't so. But, to imagine not just having these as fleeting moments but to live your whole life convinced of this...to even believe that your family feels that way about you. I can't even imagine how hard it would be! It is like she has no safe haven, and everyone needs a place where they feel protected.

Loving the characters, dearest! I promise to reply better in the future!

:blush: Would it make you feel better if I'd looked it up? *shrug* Idk, I guess its that I've watched that part three times (once when I started, when my mom started and when my friend Kim started) and I always watch with subtitles... and I have more of a word-memory, rather than picture-memory that is. And they way he said it was kind of rhythmic... Hehe, I'm making excuses for my memory here. lol

I read this a few days ago, around when you posted (I hope) but didn't get a chance to reply so all my ingenius comments are either gone, or have already been said by these generous reviewers. ;) But, you know, you could just feel her pain, her insecurity. The inner battles between she who wants to believe Walter, and she who's convinced she's sane, but disliked incredibly. Thats so sad, Mena! Not the typical battle of the conscience, is it? But, I am glad that she can call that little group her friends. That last paragraph put the biggest smile on my face, just imagining all the girls. :)

:heartbeat:
Samma

Hiii! It's been ages since I last posted. Now I entered the site and what I found? A fic by Mena! Imagine my face.. :eek: I have to be honest I 'm a bad fan, college it's taking over me, but I'll promise I'll make up to you Anna.
First I wanted to post to tell i'm alive: right now I cant read it, but as soon as I can I'll tell you what I think (I would obviously be grate!)

So, can't wait to read it.!
I'm glad to be back!

Kisses
Roxie :love: