Loose Strings

[MessengerOfDreams]

A/N I decided to take some elements from Strings and create a new story, one for a potential novel, depending on how it goes. Feedback appreciated, and in the form of reviews!

MoD

Her eyes flickered open, and she rolled onto her side. Dear God, what had happened to her? Where the hell was she?

She observed her surroundings. She lay under a tarp, directly under, like a large cover. Bright blue was all she could see, but certainly no sky. It was too flourescent, manufactured, and it was too close to her eyes. Her muscles ached, and it hurt to stretch her arms as she moved from under the tarp, with no clue as to where she was.

She poked her head from under the tarp, and instantly she felt a cold breeze grace her face, blowing a soft strand of hair into her eye. She blinked, realizing she was outside, and the idea surprised her. She looked around, and gasped as she also noticed towering skyscrapers.

“Where am I?” she mused quietly, wonder buzzing through her mind. Not even a second after she had mumbled in confusion, she heard several collective gasps. She moved out of the tarp, but then realized to her embarrassment that she was completely unclothed. A split second later, she had wrapped the tarp around her clumsily, moving it so that it left no spot of her open to view.

She looked around, realizing that she was in an area very familiar, but only in images, or by reputation, perhaps. She did a full 360, and what she saw astonished her so much that she collapsed back on the concrete ground.

She gazed up in awe, unsure as to how she missed the cascade of LCD screens surrounding her, showing advertisements to all sorts of name brands. She noticed two streets forked on both sides on the space of concrete she had inhabited, with several screens towering just above her, a rainbow of technicolor.

“I'm... I'm in...” she whispered, but could not complete the thought, because the audience of civillians surrounded her, buzzing with questions and dialogue.

“You're dead! You were just dead!” a woman shouted in shock.

“How did you get here?” another asked, panic veiled by steadiness not truly there.

“Is this some kind of sick prank?” a gruff older man demanded to know. “You tell us now!”

“When will the cops get here?” a question not directed at her, spoken from a teenage boy, who answered himself with “Wait, they're here! Here they are!”

“Ladies and gentlemen! Clear out!” an authoritative voice ordered, and the people started to clear out like the parting of the Red Sea. The woman in the tarp found herself looking at a uniformed police officer, a dark-skinned woman with long, curly hair. Her face was one of concern as she knelt down next to the woman robed in the tarp.

“Ma'am, how did you get here?” the officer asked, firmly but respectfully.

Dazed, she replied “...I have no idea.”

“Do you know how long you've been here?”

“I swear, I have no idea!” she shouted, terrified.

“It's okay, ma'am, just calm down,” the officer insisted. “We'll get this worked out.” With a smile and an outstretched hand, she helped the woman in the tarp to her feet. “Officer Delores Madison. What's your name?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but her mind instantly blanked. “I...” she mumbled, but could not say anything further. She stood there, motionless, as she racked through her brain. Who am I? She mentally shouted. She pushed her brain as hard as she could, desperate for an answer, but coming up with nothing.

“Ma'am?” Madison snapped a finger in front of her, trying to get the woman's attention.

In an action nothing short of panic, she ran out of the square. Narrowly avoiding traffic, she dashed across Seventh Street, her breath rapid and heavy. She didn't let up the pace, even as she heard the sirens of Madison's cruiser less than a minute later. She dashed through the busy walkways, not knowing her own intent but desperate to get away from the situation.

When she got the chance, she dashed into an alleyway. The cruiser was still close behind but she couldn't help but feel that she was getting away, which was strange considering she was the only nude woman in a tarp in the direct vicinity. She didn't question her fortunes, however, as she slumped against a wall, breathing heavily.

Had she lost her mind? Every thought was desperate for an explanation, a reason, a memory. But she came up with nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was as if everything had been deleted, and she was grasping for notebook papers that weren't there.

She noticed a nearby puddle, an iridescent glow echoed in its reflective surface. She took a good look at her face, studying the striking green eyes, the dark brown hair, straight and short, the fine features of her face and her thin lips turned in a frown.

Frightened, she let the tarp go, and studied as much of her own body as she could, but she recognized nothing. Not the slightest thing was familiar. Nothing about the way she looked even struck a chord, and she felt awkward, as if she was seeing someone else nude.

There was nothing but empty space still, try as she might.

At her breaking point, she let out a loud, horrified scream that was lost in the New York bustle.

[Buff_]

My criticism is the overuse of the word 'she'. It makes the descriptions seem separated, and little bit like a list. Personally, I think this would work better from a first person point of view, considering the type of description you've used, but that's just my choice.

It's interesting to say the least though. I don't want to seem negative, as this is some good writing. I don't think it's your best, but I'd like to see what you do with this.

[RedLink]

Cool Story Bro.....

It was cool to read but expected. The description once again is flawless but I agree with Buff. You should have done it in first person. Justsayingdon'tgetmadbroseph.
So Yeah... Will you continue this or will this be like a creepy story where she dies and stuff. 8.7/10 : D