So I had this idea last night, and this is what I've got so far. I'll post more as I write, so check back periodically if you like what you see here. Feel free to comment, every bit of advice helps! Spoiler: Mood Music [video=youtube;KcwsXPBje2A]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KcwsXPBje2A[/video] Spoiler: Chapter One My name's Tyler, and it's all I have right now, so if you ask me anything other than my name, I wouldn't know what to say. I woke up in a dark alleyway, with a girl leaning over me, an inch away from my face. She had piercing black eyes and frizzy blonde hair, and as she stared, her head tilted as if she couldn't quite figure me out. I tried to back up, but I realized I was in a corner, between a dirty old brick wall and a filthy dumpster overflowing with garbage. "Uh..." I had no room to move and she was literallly so close I could feel her breath on my face. I guess I must be clausterphoebic, because my heart was racing a million miles per hour and I started hyperventilating. I felt trapped and if I didn't get out of there in the next second, I was going to really freak out or something. Luckily, the girl stood up straight and backed up a step. "Well, and here I thought you were going to sleep all day," she said, as I got my breath back. "You haven't moved for at least three hours." I looked up at her. She was wearing a pair of oversized denim overalls and a bright red long-sleeved tee shirt. She also had on a purple scarf wrapped around her neck and hanging down over her shoulders, and for some reason, she was wearing black elbow pads. All in all, she was a very strange looking girl. "Uh, d-did you say three h-hours?" My voice was quiet and raspy, like I'd been yelling for hours and it finally gave out. Either that, or I hadn't had any water for a couple of days. The girl smiled. "Yup! I've been standing here waiting for you to wake up the whole time." She'd been standing an inch away, breathing on my face for three hours? The thought made me shudder, but I pushed it away. I needed to figure out what was going on. "Um, what happened?" I asked the girl. She shrugged. "Beats me," she said. "I was about to ask you the same question. What, did you get in a fight and lose your spot?" I blinked. "... What?" She looked at me, frowning. "You know, did you lose your spot to one of the troupes? Or did the Defs chase you off? A dumpster isn't a very good place to take a nap, especially this time of year." I felt lost. Too many words, and I didn't know half of them. "I- I'm sorry," I croaked. "Troupes? Defs? I... I don't... uh..." She cut me off. "You know," she said again. "The troupes, they're a bunch of thugs who travel in packs like wolves, hunting down loners and using us for punching practice. That would explain the black eye." I raised a hand and felt my face. Sure enough, one of my eyes was slightly swolen and stung when I touched it. I looked at the pile of garbage next to me and saw a bit of broken glass like a mirror. I picked it up and looked at my reflecton, and the girl was right, I had a real shiner. Curious, I looked at the rest of my face. My eyes were sort of olive colored like a weak green, and my face was pale except for the bruise around my eye. My hair was light brown, possibly even dark blonde, but it was tangled and dirty, apparently I hadn't showered in a while. I looked down at myself, I was wearing faded jeans with holes in the knees and some old sneakers. I had on a really worn out coat that looked like it was tan colored leather, and under that, a black graphic tee shirt with some band logo on the front, also worn out. I looked back up at the girl, who was still talking. "Or did the Defs find you and chase you away from your spot? They don't usually like having kids spend the night out in the public places where the rich people can see them. They get pay cuts if they don't keep us confined to the slums. So what's your name, anyway?" "Tyler," I said, almost without thinking. "What are the Defs?" She folded her arms and frowned at me. "Oh come on," she said, exasperated. "The Defs? The Defenders? They're the police force in this wasteland of a city, and they work for Mr. King? Don't tell me you don't know who Mr. King is?" With the way she talked, I felt pretty stupid. I could practically feel my ears turn red. "Actually, I don't." She looked at me angrily, as if I were a stupid waste of her time. "What, you're how old? Fifteen? Sixteen? How can you live here and not know who Mr. King is? Everybody and their little brother knows who Mr. King is!" That didn't help me feel any better. I bit my lip trying not to cry. Hey, you try waking up next to a dumpster in an alley with a black eye and a sore throat, with a short tempered girl standing over you telling you how stupid you are for not knowing what the heck is going on. It doesn't exactly make you feel good. But then my stomach growled and I realized I was starving, and that sort of took my mind off the whole I'm-so-stupid thing for a bit. I took a shaky breath and looked up again. "I don't know anything," I told her. "I don't know who this Mr. King is, I don't know what Defenders are, I don't even know how old I am. All I know is my name's Tyler, and that's it." And that was also it for my voice. I coughed hoarsely a couple times and knew I wouldn't be talking for a while. The girl looked at me warily, as if she thought I was trying to screw with her head or something. "...Really?" She asked. I nodded. "How can I be sure you're not trying to scam me or something?" I thought for a moment and shrugged. She sighed. "Fine then," she snapped. "My name's Christie Evans. If we're gonna be friends, then I can't let you stay next to this dumpster. It's filthy, and I won't associate with people who sleep in filth." Before I knew what was happening, she was pulling me to my feet. I tried to stand on my own, but I couldn't seem to get my legs to hold my weight. I felt dizzy and everything started to go dark, giving me a headache. I closed my eyes, trying to remember something, anything. Who was I? Tyler. That much I knew. Beyond that... nothing. Why was I sleeping next to a dumpster? What had happened to my voice? Where had I gotten the black eye? Who was Mr. King, and why was he so important that everybody knew about him? And why was I so weak? I felt like I hadn't had any food or water for days, and now to top it all off, I was being half carried, half dragged across the alleyway, by a random girl I'd never seen, to a place I'd never been, and there was nothing I could do about it. But the biggest question of all was what I was thinking as I slipped into unconsciousness: What had happened to my memory? Spoiler: Chapter Two For a long time, I sort of slipped in and out of semi-consciousness, as if I was trying to wake up but only came halfway. I heard voices sometimes, murmuring above me, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. Sometimes I would almost wake up and only hear silence, I would just lay there, unable to move or think. It felt like this went on for hours. Then, I finally seemed to come back all the way. I opened my eyes slowly, and saw a dark ceiling above me. I still felt heavy, and my head still ached, but this time, I wasn't sleeping next to a dumpster. I was on a soft surface, and there was a thin blanket over me. I looked around, I was on a worn out old couch in an abandoned store. It was a tiny store, not a whole lot of room, but large enough. There were maybe six couches set up, including mine, a few recliner chairs, and two dining room tables. It was a little breezy, and I looked at the front of the store. A large display window was broken, letting in cold air. Blankets were stapled up in the window like curtains, but that didn't stop the cold air from blowing in. Sitting at one of the recliners was a boy, maybe about seventeen, staring at me and smiling mischievously. "Where-" I tried to ask him where I was, but I realized my voice was still shot, I could barely speak louder than a whisper, and it still hurt to talk. The boy leaned back in his chair. "Good evening, Tyler. Welcome to the house of hospitality, where all are welcome, provided they're knocked out when they're brought here." I looked at him, confused. He stood up. He had shoulder length dark brown hair, and he was wearing a black cap put on backwards, so the bill was in the back. He also was wearing a purple football jersey with a big yellow 4 on the front, over a long-sleeved black tee shirt, and he was wearing black jeans and black hightops. "Christie says you lost your memory in a fight with one of the troupes?" He looked at me curiously, as if he wasn't sure wether or not I was telling the truth. When I didn't answer, he shrugged. "Oh well," he said. "I'm sure you're wondering how you got here, and where you are, and where Christie is, and who I am." The boy said as he walked over to me. "Well, I'll tell you in the following order: I am known as Four, and I am a friend of Christie's. If you ever forget my name, I have it on my shirt. Christie is out raiding supplies with our other two friends, Stella and Harvey. You are in our little house, an abandoned furniture store where we all live like a family, just trying to survive. You got here because Christie found you and brought you here, where you were safe. Now, any other questions?" I opened my mouth, but shut it again, not sure what to say. Of course I had questions! I had a lot of questions. How long was I out? Why did he say everybody could live here if they were knocked out first? What kind of name was Four, anyway? And what was up with Christie, why did she bring me here? I mean, not that I wasn't grateful or anything, but why had she decided to drag me who knows how far to get to this place? And even more disturbing, where was I anyway? I know, I was in an abandoned furniture store in the slums, but the slums of what city? I didn't even know what city I lived in, or what year it was, or what month. Everything was a total blank except for my name, Tyler. And that wasn't even my full name! What was my last name? I didn't even have a last name. Finally I decided to just ask all my questions one at a time, and forced myself to get the words out of my mouth. I felt like I was shouting as loud as I could, but the words came out in a sort of loud raspy whisper. "... Long was... I... out?" Four helped me sit up and propped me up with pillows while I tried to talk, and then he handed me a glass of dirty-looking water. I didn't turn it down. "Well," he said. "Christie brought you in yesterday morning, and it's three P.M. now, so you've been here about twenty-nine hours or so, and you were out like a light the whole time." I finished the water and Four took the glass. I was startled by what he said. I had been out for more than a day, and I still felt weak. What on earth had I done to myself before I got to that dumpster? I took a deep breath and asked my next question. "Why... you said... house of... knocked out...?" I was trying to talk as loud as I could, but only half of the words were actually loud enough to hear. Four seemed to understand me perfectly, though, because he answered right away. "Uh, that's kind of a long story," he said, setting the glass on a table and sitting back down on the recliner. "See, Harvey and Stella, they're twins, they found this place first and lived here for awhile. They sort of turned it into a small house, and they would take turns going raiding for supplies, so one of them could stay here and guard the place. Then one day, Harvey found me, not in much better shape than you are now, minus the bad memory. He brought me back here and I've stayed here ever since. So we all lived together for awhile, and then I found Christie." He wasn't smiling anymore, and his dark eyes were thoughtful, like he could still remember finding her. "I helped her out of a bad place and then brought her here, but she blacked out on the way. She was pretty young, only twelve, and she'd gotten pretty scared. Well, we all sort of became a family, and we have been for about a year. Now, I guess it was Christie's turn to find somebody, so I figured this house only accepted people who were knocked out before they got here." He smiled at me, and I thought about Christie. She was pretty strange, did that have something to do with her past? "Christie said... Watching... Three hours...?" Four's smile disappeared again. "Well, she's got her quirks," he said. "Let's just say you aren't the only one who's probably been hit over the head a couple times." Wait... he thought maybe I'd been hit on the head? More than once? Well, I guess considering the fact I had no idea who I was, he probably wasn't too far off. I was quiet for a moment, thinking it over. Then I turned to Four again. "What's... name of... city?" This time, he looked surprised. "You mean you don't even know where we are?" he asked. I shook my head, feeling stupid again. Four blinked. "Do you know what year it is?" I shook my head again. My ears were getting red, I could feel it. "Do you know who Mr. King is?" There was that name again, Mr. King. "No," I rasped. "I don't... anything... all a blank." Four shook his head, like he couldn't believe it. "Well, uh, okay then. We're in New York City, and it's October 17th, in the year 2196." I waited for him to continue, but he just sat there looking at me. "And... Mr. King?" Surprisingly, all the words came out loud enough this time, although it still hurt to talk. Four sighed. "Mr. King is the current governer of New York City," he said. "He was placed in power by the emperor himself, and currently is up for re-evaluation. If the emperor decides he's been doing a bad job, he's fired. That's why the Defenders have been really cracking down hard on all us loners. If Mr. King doesn't do a good job of keeping us off the streets, then he doesn't look good in front of the emperor." Four's eyes flashed dangerously, but he kept the anger out of his voice. "He's supposed to try and create homes and jobs, and clean up the slums and bad parts of the city, but instead, he just ignores us until re-evaluation time, and then he tries to get as many of us off the streets as possible, doing anything it takes to shove us out of the way. So, really, it's a good thing Christie found you and brought you here, 'cause if you had spent the night by that dumpster, you might have woken up in a prison instead of a store. As long as we're in here by curfew, the defenders don't bother us." "Who's the emperor?" I asked. Four leaned forward in his chair. "Man, Christie wasn't lying about you losing your memory. The emperor! He's in charge of planet earth, he's like, the top dog, he's the one who calls all the shots! Everyone on the planet does what he says, he's in charge of everybody! His name is David Altriantz, his birthday, november 2nd, is a worldwide holiday. His face is on the five-point slip, and if you don't have his seal and signature on your citizen papers, you're as good as dead!" All of a sudden, Four's face lit up, like he'd just had a revolutionary idea. "Hey," he said. "Where are your papers? If we had your citizen papers, we could figure out who you are!" He looked at me expectantly, and my heart sank into my stomach. "I- I don't... know, I... I can't..." Four looked angry for a second, but then he seemed to calm down. "Eh, that's alright," he said, leaning back in his chair as if it didn't bother him anyway. "It's no big deal." But I could tell, it was a big deal. Without papers, I wouldn't be able to go on the streets for fear of being caught by the defenders. Without papers, I wouldn't be able to help get supplies. Without papers, I was practically a fugitive, and if I was ever caught without papers, I would get not only me in trouble, but Christie and Four and their two friends into trouble as well. I couldn't let that happen. But when I tried to get up, I realized I had no choice. I couldn't move the lower half of my body. At all. I was too weak still, completely exhausted, and I gave up after only a split second of trying to push myself up. In fact, it was such a failed attempt that Four didn't even seem to notice it at all. I looked at him for a second, he was sitting with his arms crossed, looking down at the floor. He looked like he was doing some serious thinking. "I have one more question," I said. My voice was getting stronger. Not by a lot, but still. Four looked up at me. "Yeah? And what's that?" I took a deep breath. "What kind of name is Four?" He frowned at me. "Four is the kind of name I happen to use, Tyler." He said quietly. "There are many names out there, many labels that are inflicted upon children who have no say in the matter. Not all of them are as desirable as Tyler. Sometimes, a person has to rise above the title he was cursed with and choose a new name for himself. I chose Four. End of discussion." I fidgeted nervously on the couch. "I didn't mean-" He held up his hand, standing up. "I know," he said gently. "There's no need to apologize, I understand completely. But if I were you, I'd be more careful about what kind of questions you ask around here. A lot of people have been hurt, and not just physically. If you ask the wrong person the wrong question, you might wake up by another dumpster, in worse shape than you are now, or in a prison, or maybe... maybe you'd never wake up at all." On that happy note, he grabbed his coat, went outside the door of the shop and closed it behind him, leaving me alone. Spoiler: Chapter Three I looked around the room, it really wasn't too shabby for a group of kids trying to survive against all odds. The place was clean, and well taken care of. In one corner, a microwave and an old mini-fridge were plugged into a portable generator, and there were stacks of dishes on one of the dining room tables, four bowls, four plates, four cups and four forks. Next to the door, three coat-hangers stood, left over from the days when the store sold furniture. Right now, the only coat hanging on them was mine, everyone else was out. I couldn't stay here, not when it meant risking this life Christie and Four had built with their friends. To do so would be repaying their kindness with danger. I resolved to at least try to get up. I already was in a sort of sitting position, propped up with pillows. I pulled the blanket off and worked to try and get my arms to support my upper body weight while I tried to make my legs move. After a few minutes, I finally got them over the side of the couch and stood up. I fell flat on my face. Now I was in an even worse position than before, and I was getting angry with myself. I managed to roll over so I was on my back, staring up at the ceiling. I felt completely exhausted, and my heart pounded inside me. I was breathing heavily and my head felt like it was splitting open. This hadn't been a very good plan. And now I couldn't even get back up on the couch. I had used all my strength and willpower just trying to roll off the dang thing, there was no way I would be able to climb back up on it. I hated being so helpless, I hated it. I had to rely on other people completely, I couldn't get my own water, I couldn't walk from the couch to the door. I couldn't even talk. I was absolutely powerless, and when I tried to take care of myself, I ended up on the floor, worse off than if I had stayed where I was. I layed there for a few moments, trying to think, to figure out some kind of plan, but all my struggling had taken a lot out of me, and I fell asleep. I woke up again as someone lifted me up off the floor. "You idiot," I opened my eyes and saw Four leaning over me, chuckling to himself. "What were you going to do, run away? In your condition? Even if you had the strength to get to the door, I was right outside, you wouldn't have got very far at all." He lifted me to a sitting position and held me up, looking at me as if he didn't know what to make of me. I had to make him understand."... No papers..." I said. "Can't stay... Christie and you... danger." He shook his head. "Forget about it," he said. "You're stuck here with us, wether you like it or not. What do you think Christie would do if she came back to find you gone? She's been worrying her little head off about you, if you left now, she'd have a nervous breakdown. I can just hear her now." Four raised his voice to a higher pitch, and he sounded just like Christie, which was a little eerie. "'Oh no, it's snowing, do you think Tyler's alright?' 'Oh no, it's too hot out, do you think Tyler's alright?' 'Oh no, the Defenders need to meet their quota, do you think Tyler's alright?' You're her first save, she feels responsible for your well being now." He picked me up and put me back on the couch, then stepped back. "You're just lucky I came back in before Christie and the others returned. If she had walked in and found you on the floor like that, she would have gone into hysterics or something." I looked at him. "Sorry," I said. My voice was back to how it had been earlier, I wouldn't be able to get louder than a whisper. Four reached out and felt my forehead, frowning in thought. "That really was a stupid plan," he said. "Any progress you might have made on your recovery is gone now. You over-exerted yourself. You must be crazier than I thought." I looked at him, he was smiling mischievously down at me, a gleam in his eye. "Does-" I swallowed, trying to get my voice under control. "Does that make you h-happy?" He nodded. "We need a crazy person on our side," he said. "Somebody who's not afraid to take stupid risks for what they believe to be right. I've tried, but I just can't do it. I'm too smart for my own good. But you..." He shook his head again, smiling. "You don't seem to have any knack for self-preservation at all. You'll just jump into any situation, no matter how bad it is. Now I think I'm beginning to understand how you got to that dumpster." I thought about this for a second, I realized that Four was probably right. I hadn't even thought of myself when I was trying to leave, I'd only been thinking about Christie and Four and their friends. Four talked like this was a good thing, but really, it was a dangerous way to live. What if I jumped into something one day and didn't make it out alive? That had almost happened, if Christie hadn't found me, I might not even be alive now. And then also, with the whole leaving thing, I was really feeling the affects of it. I felt like I weighed a million pounds, I couldn't move a muscle. I was absolutely exhausted, and I fought to stay awake, but I couldn't last much longer. I felt my mind shutting down for rest. All because I jumped into something without thinking it through first. I would have to be more careful, I would have to try and resist the urge to do stupid things. I fell asleep. Spoiler: Chapter Four Four watched as Tyler fell asleep. He sighed and pulled the blanket up off the floor where it had fallen. He spread it over the boy and rearranged the pillows so that Tyler was lying flat on his back again. Then Four turned and walked over to the recliner. He sat down, thinking. As much as he didn't like to admit it, Tyler's arrival really struck him deep. He'd never seen anybody in such bad shape as Tyler. Not so much physically, other than the black eye, there wasn't really anything wrong with him. It was the memory loss that really had Four confused. Tyler didn't know practically anything, he hadn't even known what city he lived in until Four told him. He didn't know anything about himself, except that his name was Tyler. What could have caused such a thing? At first, Four would have said that somebody must have hit the boy over the head pretty hard, but then he'd had a good look at the kid's head while he was knocked out on the floor. No bruises, no raw spots, it wasn't very likely for him to have gotten a concussion. The problem had to be psychological. He probably had gone through some kind of traumatic event, which so affected him that his mind just broke, leaving him with no memory of what had happened. Four'd never seen such a thing, but he'd heard about it. He sighed. So much hurt, the world had too much hurt, and not all of it was physical. His own name was proof of that. Not the name he had chosen for himself, but his given name. The name that was printed on his citizen papers. The name he had forsaken when he became Four. That was another thing. Where were Tyler's citizen papers? Even if he had lost his memory, people usually kept their papers with them at all times, so if they got stopped by a defender, they could prove their citizenship and be allowed to go free. His eyes strayed to the worn out tan leather jacket hanging on one of the coat-hangers. Tyler's coat. He stood up and walked over to it slowly. He usually didn't like going through other people's stuff, but this was different. Besides, it wasn't like Tyler would ever know. He reached into the left coat pocket and felt... nothing. It was absolutely empty. He searched the other pockets. They all were empty. That was odd. Even if the coat was fairly new to Tyler, people around here still usually stuck all kinds of things in their pockets. Any money they might have, any little trinket they found and liked, garbage that they just stuck in their pockets if they didn't want to throw it on the floor. Pockets usually were full of junk. Tyler didn't even have a spare gum wrapper in his coat, his pockets were completely cleaned out. Just like his memory, Four thought. But, he was overthinking things. A lot of times, a loner would steal whatever he could find, even from another person's pocket. It wasn't too uncommon. Four began to pace back and forth, thinking. There was too much hurt in the city, too much pain. Somebody needed to do something about it, somebody needed to make a change, seeing Tyler convinced him of that. But no one would try. That was the problem. Everyone figured it was such a lost cause, there was no point in even trying. He himself had decided that it was hopeless, and had run away from his problems and had found a hideaway here where he could be safe. He needed to be more like Tyler, ready to do whatever foolish thing popped into his head if he thought it might help the situation. But... he just couldn't. Like he'd said to Tyler, he was too smart for his own good. So he stayed where he was, in an abandoned furniture store, ignoring the condition of the world until it was right under his nose, making him see things the way they were. He went over and pulled a chair out from one of the tables, sitting down in it with his back towards Tyler. He didn't want to see the pain of the world anymore. He wanted to ignore it.
Too long; read anyway. I enjoyed this a fair amount - you've taken a common concept (memory loss) and put it into an area we know nothing about, which means we can connect to Tyler really easily. I like that. The characters seem pretty realistic so far too, which is neat. My major critisism is this; spacing. Several times it was difficult to read because two paragraphs were just not spaced out enough, and I wound up trying to read the same parts twice. Give an extra line break between paragraphs, just to make it easier on the eyes. Minor critisisms; spelling - I noticed a couple of things spelt incorrectly, which bothered me quite a bit. Length - Although the chapter was about average for a book, the site doesn't quite work the same way. You might consider making future chapters a little shorter, so that people aren't overwhelmed by information in one go. For example: Tyler falling unconcious (both times) would have been good places to chapter it from, since it's the changing of one scene/event to another. Another thing to consider is the spoilers you've used. Not an issue with your writing of course, but having the first tag as Spoiler: Chapter 1 etc. would make you able to close the spoiler, which would save a lot of hassle for some people when you have more chapters.
Alright, thank you. I'll try and take your advice, I'll cut the first chapter into two or three chapters, and I'll work on the spacing. I'll also see if I can spot these mistakes and change them too, and thanks for the tip about spoiler names, I've kind of wondered how to do that for awhile but never got around to asking anybody. Thanks also for your input on the plot, I'm glad you like my characters. They like you too. XD EDIT: Done! Is that better?
