I picked the novel back up again. And by that, I mean I scrapped the whole thing and wrote a few new pages. Similar idea, completely different perspective. I decided to post an excerpt. Please be kind.
I ruined the life of the only friend I ever had. (That’s a melodramatic way to begin a story, isn’t it?) But it’s the truth. She accepted me for exactly what I am. And as thanks, I made her life a living hell. It’s only natural that now she follows the advice of her loved ones, the therapists, everyone who tells her I’m bad for her. She drowns me out when I try to talk to her. When I try to get her to hang out with me, she turns away. It’s like I don’t exist. It’s like I’m fading away.
Her name is Elaina. She was born February 11, 1988 at exactly 11:19 am. She told me many times. Her mother had gone into labor only three hours prior. Elaina joked a few times that she was such a kind spirit, such a decent baby, that she let her mother sleep ‘til a decent hour and came into the world just in time for everyone to enjoy lunch. Then she’d sadly say that that was the last decent thing she’d ever done in her whole life.
I never really understood why she hated herself so much. She always took the blame for whatever problems happened around her. Honestly, she should have blamed me. After all, it IS my fault. If not for me, who knows? Maybe she would have been happy. Maybe she would be standing, not crumpled on the floor in tears. Maybe her friends and family would be hugging her to say “congratulations!” instead of “it’ll all be okay.”
And who the hell do I think I am? How is it that I have so much control, so much influence over a human being? I’m Lila. I’m part of Elaina, as much as her family is. As much as her friends are. As much as her brain is.