So I posted a snippet of a story I started on earlier in the Say What's On your Mind thread. Here's it in its entirety so far:
Spoiler
Prologue/Chapter 1
I am everybody, and I am nobody.
I’ve been almost everyone you can imagine: a doctor, scientist, artist, celebrity, and even a teacher. That teller that cashed your check last week? I was probably them at one time. That woman that you slept with last night? For all you know, that was me. I’ve probably been every person you’ve ever met, every friend you’ve made, every family member you’ve ever hugged for support, and every lover you’ve ever kissed.
And you’d never know it was me.
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that this is either some typical philosophical bullshit or some guy that gets a rise out of dressing up in costumes. Well, you’re actually partly right on that second part since I do enjoy dressing up...however the costume itself is more complicated than simple makeup.
I guess it all started when I was roughly three months old. When I was born, I had the most beautiful set of emerald green eyes and dark brown hair to match. My skin was that of a lighter peach-ish quality, and I had that bit of baby fat going on. My parents always admired how handsome their baby was, though they questioned how I possibly had such brilliant green eyes when everyone in my family either had blue or brown eyes themselves.
Then one night my mom tucked me into my crib after she and I watched a movie together. I don’t remember what the movie was about nor the dream that followed, but I remember my mom’s sudden shriek that woke me up. While I had fallen asleep as a messy dark-brown haired and peach-skinned baby boy with emerald eyes, I’d woken up as a dark-eyed baby girl with ebony skin and curly black locks of hair.
My mom thought that someone had stolen her precious baby boy and switched him with this little girl that had clearly shared no resemblance to the family. She and dad called the cops despite my cries and attempted screams that it was me, their son. When the police arrived to examine the scene, the officer thought that it was some sort of prank; the baby he’d seen crying was a peach-skinned boy with messy dark-brown hair and emerald eyes. Mom was hysterical, knowing what she had seen in that crib. She was examined by her doctor and prescribed some drugs to level her back out...and eventually even she started to believe that she must have been seeing things.
That was probably the first time that I’d ever changed...although who knows? Maybe I changed before I had even popped out of the womb.
As I’d gotten older, I learned how to control my ability. One time in Elementary school, a larger boy in the 5th grade decided to pick on my smaller 3rd grade self. He wanted my lunch money, and when I told him to pull it out of his ass if he wanted it so badly, I was introduced to the garbage can. He thought he was this powerful and cool dude, and I knocked him down a few pegs when I changed into a fifth grade girl named Rhonda (she was known for being both tall and bulky looking for her age) and performed the same spectacle on him in front of a crowd including his friends.
From then on, people had stopped messing with me. They never knew it was me, but they assumed that I had some sort of protection squad with numerous members that just appeared at some point and then would “pretend” to have no memory of helping me. Not that many really asked any of them, probably worried that the punishment they faced would be worse if they’d brought up the subject.
Elementary school was the first time that I used my power willingly, and it was when I’d truly gotten that feeling: that euphoria you get when you get to be someone else. I just didn’t realize that it would become an addiction as I grew up...an addiction that would eventually lead to my discovery and the shattering of the world around me.
Spoiler
Chapter 2
30 years have passed, and I’ve changed and grown up a lot in that time...or I haven’t, it’s really hard to keep track now. There’s a woman sleeping next to me in bed, though I don’t remember her name. There’s a different one each day, and it’s not always a woman.
Today I’ve woken up as a handsome blonde-haired and blue eyed man named Michael. Yesterday I was a Tyrone, and before that I was a Michelle. The only downside to taking on all of these different names is that I don’t even remember my own name anymore...but it doesn’t bother me.
The morning pleasantries are virtually non-existent; I quietly put my clothes on and sneak out of the hotel room since I don’t really care for the morning after chatter. I hear her stirring as I close the door behind me. Looking around to make sure there’s no one watching, I quickly change into a middle aged Latino man. She opens the door and sees me walking as she stops me with the sound of her voice. She asks if I saw a man fitting my previous description, and I pretend not to understand her by replying in Spanish.
I remember when changing into someone was painful. Now it’s like my body is clay because the change is both quick and painless. I had made it a habit to learn as many languages as possible to make the change completely foolproof...though I only know a few phrases in multiple languages.
I wait until she’s gone before I change again, this time into a tall, brown haired and blue-eyed Australian guy named Jamison. It’s nice because changing form also changes the vocals, so I only ever have to fake the accent. It also helps that most people are morons that can’t tell the difference between an “authentic” and fake accent normally. Of course, even if they do, it doesn’t really bother me. If they ever tried to find or report me to the authorities as a fraud, they’d just be met with a very confused man or woman in another city/state/country that had no idea what they were babbling about.
I take the elevator down, listening to the god awful elevator music. My phone vibrates, and I check to see a new text from “Kandy”--the woman I slept with. She gives the typical wall of text with a mix of compliments/admiration and insults. I delete the text without hesitation and pull up her contact information with her picture...maybe I’ll be her tomorrow.
As I make my way to the lobby, she's standing there and looking around, probably hoping to catch me leaving. I just walk out of the hotel and onto the busy street...she didn't even notice that the clothes were identical to the guy she just talked to earlier. That's just one of those small details that people don't think important enough. Of course, no one would think to accuse two people of being one and the same just because they have an identical sense of style.
Neither of the chapters are finalized yet, and Chapter "2" isn't even finished yet. I'm actually surprised because I've never actually done this style of writing before. My stories have always been a typical 3rd/1st person type of narrative with lots of dialogue...but this one so far has been all narrative and no dialogue.
The idea for me was that I wanted to create a "personal" story centered around someone that happened to be a shapeshifter. Shows I've watched or books I've read either dance around the concept lightly, or portray them as evil and not as human. Supernatural and True Blood, for example, portray it as an evil power with the former having most shifters being actual villains, and the latter portraying it as a taboo thing to which one of the only characters who shifts into another person actually ends up dying from it. In Heroes, you get the glimpse of someone who uses their power for primal pleasures before he's quickly killed off so the main villain can achieve his goal. In the game Prototype, it's mainly there as a way to escape the cops (but can only be done AFTER you kill someone). Even in Harry Potter, one of the only characters that can shapeshift without a potion mainly only does it for comic effect.
None of them aside from that fleeting moment in Heroes really answers that question that I feel is important, though: If you had the power to change into other people, what would you do with it?
And that's what this story would be about. This story would very much focus on what it means to be a human and have the power to be anyone that you want, what it means to give into that urge and follow that addiction, what it means to lose who you really are to where you don't even remember your own name, and the addiction becomes a way of coping and a way to fill an endless void that you've created for yourself...and finally what it means to face that void and yourself after you've done something terrible.
So please share your thoughts, constructive criticisms, suggestions, and the like. I very much like to hear all thoughts, especially since as I said...though the genre is one I tend to tackle, the style is something relatively new to me. I literally sat for three minutes listing superpowers that I'd want to write about, and then found myself writing the basic plot and then prologue seconds later, so this story actually came out of nowhere.
