Disclaimer: I own nothing except for myself (aka Chris Atola). Loren
(aka M2) owns himself as well as the original version of this story.
Author's note: This is an authorised POV story of M2's Schizophrenia. My darling brother is actually a fairly good writer, and he really surprised me with the original version of the story. Chris, my character, plays a rather minor role, compared to Loren and Mewtwo...
However, this is also a sort-of crossover with my Dimensions, since Chris just got back home a couple of months prior. Her brother's name is different here, but aside from that, the only difference is, she never sent a note home, so her brother, Loren, doesn't know where Chris was when she was gone. That information plays a part in the story as well.
Anyway, don't go giving me ALL the credit for this fic: half of it (or just a bit more) goes to M2.
By the way, M2 and I are writing slightly different versions - or dimensions - of the same story, so they don't tie in THAT completely.
POV of Schizophrenia by Chris Atola and M2
Chapter One
Two months after I'd returned from my dimension-hopping experience, I, Chris Atola, was happily enjoying the fact that I was home with my family, not having to worry about anything. Well, except the three other people in my head...
Just after midday, I heard a car stop on the drive for a few seconds, then speed away. This wasn't entirely unusual, as many of the locals drove on the road passing the house, and many of them did so at high speeds. Thinking it was just the mailman, I ignored it.
The next morning I was up bright and early at seven o'clock and headed downstairs. Three hours later, I headed back upstairs to try - try being the keyword here - to wake my beloved brother, Loren.
Knowing perfectly well that the first few words I said would fall on deaf ears, I said, "Come on, Loren-kins, GET UP!"
Loren made an incomprehensible sound.
"What?"
"No." Loren rolled over, pulled the blanket closer and showed every intention of going back to sleep.
"Come on, get up. It's already ten o'clock!" I tried to pull Loren out of bed, but he was (and still is) a lot taller and stronger than I, so after a few minutes of trying, I gave up and went downstairs.
When I reached the kitchen I saw Mum was now awake, and getting herself a bowl of müesli. She sat down at the table, and I followed suit. "Morning, Mum. 'Kins won't get up, want to try?"
"Not really, no."
"Thought not. Honestly, what happened to the little boy who was up at the crack of dawn, especially at Christmas?"
"He grew up..."
After a while, Mum asked me how my weaving was going, and after a while the subject of my application for the local vocational college came up. We continued on that path for the next three-or-so hours.
At ten to one, Loren finally saw fit to drag himself out of bed, and his arrival was heralded by the sound of his loud stomping on the stairs. After a minute he was in the kitchen, and the first thing he did was head for the coffee pot, after which he sat down at the table, flavoured his coffee and took a sip.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm, coffeeee..."
"Coffee addict," was my typical reply to _that_ particular phrase.
"Caffeine."
"Whatever." This was a typical conversation between my darling brother and I. I couldn't care less what the stuff was, I only drink it three or so times a month, and on special occasions.
After breakfast, Loren left his dishes in the sink and headed for the bathroom, and I heard the water running and a muffled "Hmm..." When the water stopped, I could have sworn I heard something sounding remotely like "Eep!", but I might have been hearing things, followed by the water running again.
When Loren finally exited the bathroom, I tried to act as if I hadn't heard anything. Loren headed out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. As soon as he was out of sight, I heard him run up the stairs.
A couple of times during the day, I heard Mum ask Loren why he was wearing sunglasses, and he claimed to just be heading out. I didn't believe him, though. Something was off.
The next morning, I tried, again, and unsuccessfully to wake Loren. He didn't get up until the usual one o'clock in the afternoon. I heard him say something along the lines of "AAARGH!!!" and something hit the floor. I wondered what was going on, but decided against going to see.
Later that day, I heard him trying to convince Mum and Dad to let him go to the country with Tom, his best friend since kindergarten. Somehow, he managed it, even on such short notice. About an hour later, I stood with my parents on the platform of the local bus station to see Loren off. As the bus left, I saw Loren wave at us.
I was now positive something was up. First his strange behaviour yesterday and earlier today, then this. Something was definitely wrong.
Care to review?
Author's note: This is an authorised POV story of M2's Schizophrenia. My darling brother is actually a fairly good writer, and he really surprised me with the original version of the story. Chris, my character, plays a rather minor role, compared to Loren and Mewtwo...
However, this is also a sort-of crossover with my Dimensions, since Chris just got back home a couple of months prior. Her brother's name is different here, but aside from that, the only difference is, she never sent a note home, so her brother, Loren, doesn't know where Chris was when she was gone. That information plays a part in the story as well.
Anyway, don't go giving me ALL the credit for this fic: half of it (or just a bit more) goes to M2.
By the way, M2 and I are writing slightly different versions - or dimensions - of the same story, so they don't tie in THAT completely.
POV of Schizophrenia by Chris Atola and M2
Chapter One
Two months after I'd returned from my dimension-hopping experience, I, Chris Atola, was happily enjoying the fact that I was home with my family, not having to worry about anything. Well, except the three other people in my head...
Just after midday, I heard a car stop on the drive for a few seconds, then speed away. This wasn't entirely unusual, as many of the locals drove on the road passing the house, and many of them did so at high speeds. Thinking it was just the mailman, I ignored it.
The next morning I was up bright and early at seven o'clock and headed downstairs. Three hours later, I headed back upstairs to try - try being the keyword here - to wake my beloved brother, Loren.
Knowing perfectly well that the first few words I said would fall on deaf ears, I said, "Come on, Loren-kins, GET UP!"
Loren made an incomprehensible sound.
"What?"
"No." Loren rolled over, pulled the blanket closer and showed every intention of going back to sleep.
"Come on, get up. It's already ten o'clock!" I tried to pull Loren out of bed, but he was (and still is) a lot taller and stronger than I, so after a few minutes of trying, I gave up and went downstairs.
When I reached the kitchen I saw Mum was now awake, and getting herself a bowl of müesli. She sat down at the table, and I followed suit. "Morning, Mum. 'Kins won't get up, want to try?"
"Not really, no."
"Thought not. Honestly, what happened to the little boy who was up at the crack of dawn, especially at Christmas?"
"He grew up..."
After a while, Mum asked me how my weaving was going, and after a while the subject of my application for the local vocational college came up. We continued on that path for the next three-or-so hours.
At ten to one, Loren finally saw fit to drag himself out of bed, and his arrival was heralded by the sound of his loud stomping on the stairs. After a minute he was in the kitchen, and the first thing he did was head for the coffee pot, after which he sat down at the table, flavoured his coffee and took a sip.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm, coffeeee..."
"Coffee addict," was my typical reply to _that_ particular phrase.
"Caffeine."
"Whatever." This was a typical conversation between my darling brother and I. I couldn't care less what the stuff was, I only drink it three or so times a month, and on special occasions.
After breakfast, Loren left his dishes in the sink and headed for the bathroom, and I heard the water running and a muffled "Hmm..." When the water stopped, I could have sworn I heard something sounding remotely like "Eep!", but I might have been hearing things, followed by the water running again.
When Loren finally exited the bathroom, I tried to act as if I hadn't heard anything. Loren headed out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. As soon as he was out of sight, I heard him run up the stairs.
A couple of times during the day, I heard Mum ask Loren why he was wearing sunglasses, and he claimed to just be heading out. I didn't believe him, though. Something was off.
The next morning, I tried, again, and unsuccessfully to wake Loren. He didn't get up until the usual one o'clock in the afternoon. I heard him say something along the lines of "AAARGH!!!" and something hit the floor. I wondered what was going on, but decided against going to see.
Later that day, I heard him trying to convince Mum and Dad to let him go to the country with Tom, his best friend since kindergarten. Somehow, he managed it, even on such short notice. About an hour later, I stood with my parents on the platform of the local bus station to see Loren off. As the bus left, I saw Loren wave at us.
I was now positive something was up. First his strange behaviour yesterday and earlier today, then this. Something was definitely wrong.
Care to review?