Angeline

December 21, 2012
By SpringRayyn PLATINUM, Lakeville, Minnesota
SpringRayyn PLATINUM, Lakeville, Minnesota
34 articles 2 photos 659 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Don't punish yourself," she heard her say again, but there would be punishment and pain, and there would be happiness too. That was writing."
--Markus Zusak, "The Book Thief"


She reached her tiny, chubby arm up towards the dangling sparkle, fingers opening and closing like a lazy clam, trying to grab hold of the pretty thing. It clinked and clanked, but no matter how she stretched, she couldn’t reach. Easily giving up, she instead grabbed her foot in the footie pajamas she wore. She still was little and stupid, and I almost couldn’t stand it. It almost made me force my way out, but in a way it amused me as much as it amused her. Mostly it just angered me, her stupidity, but whenever I tried to come out and complain before, all I could do was cry and scream. Useless baby. Only because she hadn’t learned to talk could I not talk. With a sudden renewed sense of desire, she stretched up her hand and enclosed the shiny object in it, pulling hard until it fell into the crib.

“Angeline, no!” That came from our mama. She and our daddy called her Angeline. They called me Angeline too, but they didn’t know that I wasn’t. It was kind of hard to tell us apart yet when neither of us could speak. Angeline tasted the sparkly thing only for a moment before it was yanked out of her grasp. I could see mama’s face blurrily looming over Angeline’s and fought to get out. Angeline began to whimper.

“Oh, no, little one. You’re okay. You’re fine. It’s me, your mama. I’m here.” Her voice was sing-songy in her attempts to calm Angeline. But the harder I fought, the louder Angeline cried until finally she shrieked and I fell back into her sub-consciousness, weighted down from exhaustion. Her tears slowly ceased. Damn. Next time.

By the time Charlotte was nearly a teenager, I’d merely accomplished escape during the worst of occasions. Angeline seemed only willing to retreat then. Always breaking out in time to receive the sting of a huge, heavy hand hit my cheek, much sharper than the blurry world I usually experience, and giving way to Angeline once more when the smart had gone out like a flickering candle, I wondered how mama and daddy could love Angeline, yet hate me. Through the years I observed while daddy took Angeline to the park to play on the swings and slides and mama tucked her in and kissed her goodnight, never able to escape when they expressed their love. Angeline’s will grew weaker over the years, but I never grew quite strong or motivated enough to fight my way out and take over control of our body. That is, until her eighth birthday.

Mama smiled as she carried out the flaming cake. Setting it on the table, she wrapped her arm around daddy’s waist. I decided to get out. Charlotte never screamed as she used to when she was younger. Our parents began to sing.

“Happy birthday to you…”

My vision clarified again as I pushed Angeline out of the way and took her place.

“Happy birthday to you…”

I smiled up at my parents as they sang to me. Finally a time that I could receive the love I deserve, love that, so far, only Angeline has gotten. I could take what’s mine and never have to give it back. Basking in the glow of the candles, I soaked it up.

“Happy birthday dear Angeline…”

Their loving eyes still smiled down at me, but they looked to me more mocking than loving. Candlelight flickered across their faces, causing them to look evil, like two grinning, malevolent demons from hell. They looked like they were trying incredibly hard to hurt me with that one word.

In a rage, I leapt up from my seat, screaming. Something heavy found its way into my hand as I lunged at them, swinging my arms wildly. Before my vision could be engulfed by bright, white light, I watched terror drain into my parents’ faces. Before long my anger fizzled out and I could see again. I stood over their bodies as they bled out from their crushed skulls onto the linoleum floor, staining the nice white a garish red. Looking down at my hands I saw a gift, wrapping torn open and bloody. I had down this. I looked resentfully down at my parents.

“I’m not Angeline.”


The author's comments:
This is for my creative writing class. Reminder: this is a work of fiction that I researched very little for. The way DID is portrayed is probably not accurate.

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This article has 7 comments.


on Mar. 23 2015 at 3:57 pm
SpringRayyn PLATINUM, Lakeville, Minnesota
34 articles 2 photos 659 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Don't punish yourself," she heard her say again, but there would be punishment and pain, and there would be happiness too. That was writing."
--Markus Zusak, "The Book Thief"

Thanks for the clarification! As I said, I didn't research much for the story.

on Mar. 23 2015 at 12:35 am
Allen. PLATINUM, Palo Alto, California
32 articles 9 photos 525 comments

Favorite Quote:
[i]No matter how much people try to put you down or make you think other things about yourself, the only person you can trust about who you really are is you[/i] -Crusher-P

I'd like to point out one measly detail that really doesn't greatly detract from the magnitude of this piece- when an individual has DID, they cannot remember what they did as other personalities and certainly don't know that they have other personalities. In their different personalities, they truly believe they are that person, so Charlotte would merely be confused and insist that she was, indeed, Charlotte. She would not know who Angeline was. However, I think this piece could easily match another disorder and is therefore wonderful. And frightening. I'm sure this is going to haunt me...

on Nov. 21 2013 at 5:44 am
Ray--yo PLATINUM, Kathmandu, Other
43 articles 2 photos 581 comments

Favorite Quote:
God Makes No Mistakes. (Gaga?)
"I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right." -Liesel Meminger via Markus Zusac, "The Book Thief"

PS that picture is perfect

on Nov. 21 2013 at 5:43 am
Ray--yo PLATINUM, Kathmandu, Other
43 articles 2 photos 581 comments

Favorite Quote:
God Makes No Mistakes. (Gaga?)
"I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right." -Liesel Meminger via Markus Zusac, "The Book Thief"

WOW!! Just WOW!! Now that's what I call a 'thriller', WOW!( can't stop WOWing, really :D)

on Aug. 10 2013 at 12:19 am
nelehjr DIAMOND, Lingle, Wyoming
60 articles 11 photos 381 comments

Favorite Quote:
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

I know very little about either so if you meant it to be multiple personalities then it's multiple personalities.

on Aug. 9 2013 at 9:35 am
SpringRayyn PLATINUM, Lakeville, Minnesota
34 articles 2 photos 659 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Don't punish yourself," she heard her say again, but there would be punishment and pain, and there would be happiness too. That was writing."
--Markus Zusak, "The Book Thief"

Oh darn, a typo at such an intense moment! You may decide whether she was posessed or double personalitied, although it was meant to be a double personality. It could be viewed either way.

on Aug. 9 2013 at 1:45 am
nelehjr DIAMOND, Lingle, Wyoming
60 articles 11 photos 381 comments

Favorite Quote:
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

Well that was just what I needed right before bed! :D Haha, joking darling! This was great! Five stars. Wow...Was Angeline possesed? Or was it like dual personalities?...Very interesting concept. I love your use of details. I found one type-o though. Don't worry, happens to everyone! I had down this. I looked resentfully down at my parents. I had done this.


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