For this journal we’re supposed to re-write an event of our lives from a different point of view. Writing this was fun because I get to make fun of myself and also see somewhat how much I’ve grown XD It hasn’t really given me any new insight, but it makes me want to improve.
The not-so-great thing about being the first legit character of your author?
…Okay, it’s true that I don’t have as much to complain about now as before. At least she listens to us more, as opposed to creating us and then doing basically whatever she wanted, but I’m still a subject of the pen.
Hey there. My name is Asher Pierson. I’m seventeen, though I was fourteen when I was created and placed on a dystopian, radioactive Earth in the year 3012. I’m super awesome, and I’ve got a less-awesome twin named Ashley; yet somehow together we ended up saving the world with our friend Lila, who was sixteen at the time. Since my author’s a teenager, we of course happen to have super awesome powers from this meteorite or something, since that seems to be the trend for most kids nowadays. (But don’t ask me about the details of how we got our powers, because I don’t think our writers thought our story through that well at that point.)
I’m the first character by Elisabeth who ever had his story finished, which is why I’m still her favorite.
Just kidding! Of course I’m still her favorite.
But yeah, she’s asked me to relate some of my experiences, and she’s even letting me be as harsh as I want to be. So sit back and relax while I relate my tragic story.
My life began three years ago. But even from the beginning of my first action, and even as a brand-new character, I could tell this kid was an inexperienced writer. She wanted to write from my perspective, but she had to start out in a really cliché way, which shames me still, because I would’ve started out in a really cool, action-packed scene…
But yeah, when I came into existence, I found myself in my twin’s room, holding a bucket of cold water in some blurry white place.
“Hey, Ashle – wakey wakey!”
The last two words rushed forcibly out of my mouth, and I dumped the water over Ashley’s head. Before she had time to react, I found the pen dragging me out into the hallway, where I bumped clumsily into Lila (when, by the way, I’m not really that clumsy).
“Ouch!” I rubbed my shoulder, but Elisabeth didn’t seem to hear me as more words stuttered messily out onto the page.
“What’s she doing?” Lila, the character of my author’s friend, stared up, but according to the writer’s command she then found herself demanding, “What did you do this time?”
For once, I found some description from Elisabeth’s pen as Lila’s gray eyes filled with suspicion, but without any sort of pause or transition whatsoever, my mouth was blurting, “Erm. Nothing! Catch you later.”
What on earth is going on? I wondered as I took off running… somewhere. Apparently my writer couldn’t even manage to describe where I was trying to flee to as my twin “screamed bloody murder”…?
Huh. Alright. I wasn’t the writer, I supposed with a shrug as I suddenly slammed my room door in Ashley’s face. As I looked around, everything was still blurry, even as Elisabeth tried to somewhat describe the place by pathetically mentioning that the room only had the bed and a dresser.
“Hey,” I tried calling up as Elisabeth sat me down randomly on my bed. My voice actually echoed through the emptiness of the world. “So, uh, what’s going on right now? What are we…”
Suddenly Lila shouted something about needing to go to the store, and I found myself asking if it could wait until later.
Alright, I saw how it was.
“Thanks anyway,” I called as our story went on, words flowing out clumsily to guide everything that happened, whether relevant to the plot or not. The story continued with its awkward bumps and irregularities, but the writers ignored it, so I kind of did too.
So that was my life before. Despite the clumsy writing, we characters ended up getting used to it eventually. It was sad and kind of frustrating to be ignored so much, but as Elisabeth and her two friends continued to write us into a five-novel series, that gradually changed for the better. Now Elisabeth even admits her deafness – though I think she likes to think she’s a better writer now than she actually is. But she also develops us a little bit better, and knows me a little deeper than she did then, so we’re getting there.
Yup. Our relationship has improved a lot since three years ago. And thank goodness for that.