Madison's Code

[ELLIE52]

1 hour ago, Sophie ♥ said:

Thanks for the wall of text Kerry!  I looooove getting comments like that!  Um, I hope I don't disappoint with the rest of the story.

Actually I've been struggling a lot the past few days... I keep reading and editing and fixing the last ten chapters because I want them to be perfect.  Not only for the readers, but any people who might show it to loved ones down the line.  You know?  

No matter what I do, I can't seem to make it good enough... *sigh* Hopefully I'll figure this out in the next few days.  This story is just really important to me and I need it to be as good as I can make it...

You've had more attention on this story in some ways.   Just be cool.  You can do it.

[foofybabykitten]

1 hour ago, Sophie ♥ said:

Thanks for the wall of text Kerry!  I looooove getting comments like that!  Um, I hope I don't disappoint with the rest of the story.

Actually I've been struggling a lot the past few days... I keep reading and editing and fixing the last ten chapters because I want them to be perfect.  Not only for the readers, but any people who might show it to loved ones down the line.  You know?  

No matter what I do, I can't seem to make it good enough... *sigh* Hopefully I'll figure this out in the next few days.  This story is just really important to me and I need it to be as good as I can make it...

Don't get too stressed about it, there's no such thing as perfection and I'm sure that whatever you concoct for us, we'll love it. 

I'm cheering for you, you tiny asthmatic turtle! >_<

[Sophie ♥]

46 minutes ago, foofybabykitten said:

I'm cheering for you, you tiny asthmatic turtle! >_<

 This is so inspiring.

[Sophie ♥]

Special thanks to my twin @bbykimmy who has vigilantly kept me afloat through my emotional storm of posting Madison's Code.  Thank you for listening.

Pin 3: Touch

Twenty-one.

<< Free today?

>> No not really

<< Dark Day?

>> Little day!

    No Days had really fallen out of my lingo; over the past few weeks, it was clear that they could be broken up into two more specific, polarizing categories.  

    Dark Days were the ones to worry about.  Those were the days when the heavy feelings would weigh her down, when bad ideas would pop into her head and she’d exhaust herself trying to keep them under control.  Sometimes it was because of something her parents had said or something she saw on TV.  Sometimes it wasn’t because of anything at all.  She either wouldn’t sleep or would do nothing but sleep.  She took forever to answer her phone.  These were the days with soft, quiet eyes, when she had nothing to say or no energy to say it.  These were the days she worked so tirelessly to hide from everyone.  Everyone but me.

    Little Days were another thing entirely.  When she had the house to herself, when she was feeling up to it, she would make believe she was a little girl.  Little was her word, something she used to describe all the kid stuff.  As I understood it, her Little Days made the rest of the days easier: it made things light and sunny again.  But for whatever reason, I wasn’t allowed to be around on those days.  I think she was embarrassed.

    I locked my phone and put it down on my bed.  Finally, it was warm enough that Polly had started coming over again.  Of course, there was even less to do at my house.

    “No Sunshine today?” Polly asked.

    “Nope.”

    “You don’t need to go rushing over there to take care of her like last time we hung out?”

    “Is that jealousy I detect, Polly?”

    She rolled her eyes.

    “How are you and Tom?”

    She groaned.

    “That good, huh?” 

    She muted the television; it was distracting her.  Polly never was good at multitasking.

    “It’s not that I don’t like him.  I do.  But we don’t… click.” She pushed her fingers together, like that meant something. “It feels like a chore sometimes, spending time with him.  But I want to spend time with him!  I just want the time to be better.”

    “Like go on dates?” I offered.

    “Not even that much.  Just…” And then she rolled over on my bed so she was looking me right in the eye. “I want us to be more like you and Madison.”

    “…uh.  Well, Madison and I aren’t dating.”

    “No, but whenever you guys are around I feel like such a third wheel!  Like, you stare at her and smile when she’s not looking.  And you have all these inside jokes.  And you guys have entire conversations without even saying anything.  I swear, when we went to Andy’s diner, you guys played with salt packets for ten minutes!”

    “So you want Tom to play with salt more?”

    “Jamie,” Polly said in a tone I was very familiar with.  It was the “take this seriously now” tone.  So I sighed and motioned for her to continue. “You two just feel so connected all the time.  Even when you’re not trying to be.  And with Tom, even when I try to be, it only works half the time.”

    “I don’t think you can really compare us like that.” Madison and I weren’t a couple.  We didn’t have couple problems.  If friendship was making break-and-bake cookies, couples had to make them from scratch.  Of course we had it easier.  It was also much less rewarding.  Didn’t she see that?

    And just as Polly had been jealous of me a moment before, I was now very jealous of her.

    “How do you do it?” she asked. “Sunshine was literally the most annoying thing in the world to you, and now you’re head over heels.  And not just sometimes, but all the time.  Like, you never even doubt it.  What’s your secret?”

    “There’s no secret.  I just like her.”

    “All the time?”

    “Yeah?”

    “Doesn’t she annoy you, or frustrate you, or do things you don’t like?”

    “Sure.  Like, every day.  But just because she says and does stuff I don’t like doesn’t mean I like her any less.”

    “That makes no sense,” Polly said with frustration.

    “I don’t think it’s supposed to,” I admitted.  Honestly, I wasn’t trying to be difficult.  I just didn’t have an answer for her question, not a real answer anyway.  Not one I could quantify or put into words.  I only had feelings.

    Polly took the TV off mute for a few minutes, and then muted it again.

    “I should break up with Tom.”

    “You shouldn’t chase some arbitrary fantasy,” I told her.

    “I don’t think it’s a fantasy to want what you have.”

    “Unrequited feelings?” I joked.

    “Unconditional ones.”

[chansu ragedashi]

4 hours ago, Sophie ♥ said:

   “Doesn’t she annoy you, or frustrate you, or do things you don’t like?”

    “Sure.  Like, every day.  But just because she says and does stuff I don’t like doesn’t mean I like her any less.”

    “That makes no sense,” Polly said with frustration.

    “I don’t think it’s supposed to,” I admitted

 

4 hours ago, Sophie ♥ said:

   “You shouldn’t chase some arbitrary fantasy,” I told her.

    “I don’t think it’s a fantasy to want what you have.”

    “Unrequited feelings?” I joked.

    “Unconditional ones.

This right here is the hardest thing to have: an unconditional connection to anyone. I can count on one hand the number of people that could annoy the living shit out of me today and I'd still talk to them tomorrow like nothing at all happened.

[Wannatripbaby]

10 hours ago, Sophie ♥ said:

It’s not that I don’t like him.  I do.  But we don’t… click.” She pushed her fingers together, like that meant something. “It feels like a chore sometimes, spending time with him.  But I want to spend time with him!  I just want the time to be better.”

I've felt that way with my roleplay partners in the past and it was usually a sign it was time to end our game.

10 hours ago, Sophie ♥ said:

"So you want Tom to play with salt more?”

That line madw me laugh so hard! ?

[diaperpt]

 

10 hours ago, Sophie ♥ said:

<< Free today?

>> No not really

<< Dark Day?

>> Little day!

    No Days had really fallen out of my lingo; over the past few weeks, it was clear that they could be broken up into two more specific, polarizing categories.  

    Dark Days were the ones to worry about.  Those were the days when the heavy feelings would weigh her down, when bad ideas would pop into her head and she’d exhaust herself trying to keep them under control.  Sometimes it was because of something her parents had said or something she saw on TV.  Sometimes it wasn’t because of anything at all.  She either wouldn’t sleep or would do nothing but sleep.  She took forever to answer her phone.  These were the days with soft, quiet eyes, when she had nothing to say or no energy to say it.  These were the days she worked so tirelessly to hide from everyone.  Everyone but me.

    Little Days were another thing entirely.  When she had the house to herself, when she was feeling up to it, she would make believe she was a little girl.  Little was her word, something she used to describe all the kid stuff.  As I understood it, her Little Days made the rest of the days easier: it made things light and sunny again.  But for whatever reason, I wasn’t allowed to be around on those days.  I think she was embarrassed.

How great that we're finally to the stage of "Little day"! Yeah, Madison is still embarrassed and may not totally understand it yet. Jamie is figuring out the puzzle, but while she now has a basic understanding, she's got more to learn. I'm so happy for the two of them though, that their relationship is building>>>

 

11 hours ago, Sophie ♥ said:

 “How do you do it?” she asked. “Sunshine was literally the most annoying thing in the world to you, and now you’re head over heels.  And not just sometimes, but all the time.  Like, you never even doubt it.  What’s your secret?”

    “There’s no secret.  I just like her.”

    “All the time?”

    “Yeah?”

    “Doesn’t she annoy you, or frustrate you, or do things you don’t like?”

    “Sure.  Like, every day.  But just because she says and does stuff I don’t like doesn’t mean I like her any less.”

    “That makes no sense,” Polly said with frustration.

    “I don’t think it’s supposed to,” I admitted.

...no secret. I just like her.

 

love it!!!

[LilPeaches]

Cute!!! Cute!!! Cute!!!  There's mystery, a curious bond and complex characters. I'm constantly wondering what's happening or going to happen. The relationship between Jamie and Madison is unique and special. Its blooming from an unusual place. It very very very adorable. These no days are still confusing to me. I understand her taking advantage of a day she's free to be little. However, loud days seem different to me. I'm curious if its an emotional sensitivity thing. Sort of like borderline. I don't want to make presumptions though. Maybe its better not knowing and just accepting they are hard. Its a heart warming love story that I really feel a connection with. 

 

Thankies for posting!!!

[kerry]

It's nice to see Jamie and Madison doing much better (together and separately). Like Trip, I laughed out loud at the salt line. You have such a wonderful way with dialogue!

Looking forward to more whenever you have it done. :-)

 

[Sophie ♥]

Twenty-two.

    I slammed my palms on the glass, but they didn’t leave any smudges or prints.  The me on the other side didn’t raise a finger.  She smiled, that warm, fake, sickly smile.  I was cold all over.  I could see my breath in front of me.  Everything was so dark…

    “Stay put,” she mouthed, words absent and lost on the other side of the mirror.  But I knew them well.  She always said those words.  I balled my hands into fists and hit the glass with the full swing of my arms.  It rumbled and failed to crack.  Tears dripped down my cheeks.

    I watched her walk away, the Jamie behind the mirror, free on the other side.  Straight in front of me, across the hallway, was another mirror, staring back at me.  But there was no girl in this reflection.  I dragged my fingernails along the glass, but it made no sound.  I screamed, but no one could hear it.

    For the first time in a long time, I threw up.  I hovered my head over the rim of the toilet, still lost in a senseless, sleeping delirium.  Everything felt like the dream was only a tug away.  At any point, it could pull me back in.  I threw up again.

    “Jay?”

    “Mmm…”

    “You okay?” I heard from the other side of the bathroom door.

    “Mmm.  Yeah.”

    “Want breakfast?”

    “No thanks,” I mumbled, fighting to keep my eyes open.  Was it morning?  Had I fallen asleep again?  I flushed the toilet and pulled myself to my feet.  On my way to the sink, I avoided looking in the mirror.  I splashed water on my face.  It wasn’t helping.

    “You sick?” Mom asked when I got out of the bathroom.

    “Seems so,” I sighed and fell into my chair at the kitchen table.

    “Want to stay home?”

    I shook my head.

    “You sure?”

    “I’ll feel better when I get to school,” I told her.  I’d feel better when I got to Biology.

    Sure enough, the second I saw that bright smile, those beautiful milky brown eyes, it was like last night had never happened.  Madison Bell was a dream herself, one that beat out the badness of even the worst nightmares.  She was reality’s reciprocal to the imaginary.  She was serenity.

    “Okay, so,” Madison started, “I have this paper due on Wednesday, and I thought instead of writing up a draft and messing it up a hundred times, I’d just come to you right away!  So here I am.  I was thinking, dinner tonight?  We can go over an outline.  And we can go anywhere you want - my treat - to pay you back.  Sounds good, right?  I thought so.”

    “Yeah, yeah.  Whatever excuse you need to buy me more food, right?”  She was in a good mood today, wasn’t she?  Madison had taken to sitting at the desk right beside mine.  Ellen’s desk, to be specific, which irritated her to no end.  But that was the thing about Madison: you just couldn’t stay mad at her.  I knew firsthand.  So Ellen started sitting in the seat in front of her old one - an empty one - and Madison permanently moved in.

    “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Madison tried to hide a smile.  I rolled my eyes.

    “What about lunch?” she went on. “You gonna be in the Writing Workshop?”

    “Probably.”

    “Okay I’ll see you there too, and I’ll bring some M&Ms or something.”

    Ever the child.  But since my Christmas money had started to dwindle, lunch had become an ‘every once in a while’ thing, rather than an ‘everyday’ thing.  I hated to think of myself as taking advantage of Madison, but with how much money she spent on me… well, it was hard not to draw a comparison.

    At lunch, Madison brought candy bars and M&Ms.  I wondered if, left to her own devices, she would eat nothing but junk food.  I opted out of her M&Ms. 

    “You aren’t going to eat?” she asked. “You didn’t have breakfast, did you?”

    I shrugged, reading over one of the papers I was editing for an author on the east coast.  He published a book last year.  I loved editing his drafts.

    “What’s up?  Everything okay?” When I didn’t answer, Madison poured the whole pack of M&Ms over the paper I was reading.  They clattered together and distracted me away from the print.  I sighed.

    “You buy me too much stuff.”

    “That’s what you’re worried about?” she asked. “I don’t buy you anything.  My parents do.  And you don’t even like them, do you?”

    “Not exceptionally,” I admitted.

    “So let’s just spend all their money together.”

    Together.  I liked that.  So I ate an M&M.

    “There we go!”  Madison smiled like an angel, like she looked wrong without a halo.  After a minute of quiet admiration, I decided to turn the tables on her line of questioning.  If we were going to get personal…

    “So why can’t I come over during your Little Days?”

    “We are at school,” she said with a sour tone, but I watched color filling up her cheeks. “Can’t we talk about this later?”

    “We’re alone.” No one ever came into the Writing Workshop during lunch.  Well, with the exception of present company. “And I want to talk about it.  I’ve babied you before.”

    “Jamie!” She gave me a hard look.  That was something entirely new.  Madison never used to show frustration, not unless she was pushed to it.  I was finally seeing all these new sides to her, all these new angles, new corners, new colors.  It was starting to paint a fuller picture of the honest truth: I was absolutely smitten with this girl.

    “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

    “Like hell,” she said flatly, coloring herself with a darker shade of pink.  Wow, Madison blushing…

    “We talked about this,” I reminded her. “It makes you happy.  It helps you when your thoughts are all over the place.  And it’s cute!”

    “I think you are mixing up the definition of cute with weird.” She stuffed her face with a Snicker’s bar.  How is that not cute?!  How could she even deny it?

    “It’s weird, but in a cute Madison-esque way.  Like.  Uniquely you.  And I liked it.  Taking care of you.  Isn’t that what being little is all about?  Being safe and cared for?”

    Madison didn’t have an answer for me, but I didn’t need one.  I already had an answer.  She just stared at the table between us, drawing with her index finger in some imaginary coloring book.

    “So you like it.  I like it.  What’s the problem then?”

    And then Madison said something I really didn’t expect.  Her tone was quiet, nearly a whisper, and her eyes wouldn’t look up at me.

    “It’s not your job to take care of me.”

    Well, she had a point, didn’t she?  It wasn’t my job to take care of her.  It was her mom’s job, or her dad’s job.  But they weren’t doing a very good job at all.  Was I just filling in?  No, that wasn’t it.  I liked to see her lips turn up the right way.  I liked to watch the shimmer in her eyes reflect off the insides of her glasses.  I liked to make her heart fill up all warm and soft.  I loved it.  I loved making her feel exactly the same way she made me feel every single day.

    “It’s not my job,” I admitted. “It’s my pleasure.”

[bbykimmy]

8 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

Madison Bell was a dream herself, one that beat out the badness of even the worst nightmares.  She was reality’s reciprocal to the imaginary.  She was serenity.

The cadence of this paragraph is joy.  The way the sentences shorten gradually until the core of the thought is presented to the reader.  Wordcount in a sentence matters, the number of syllables matter.  This is beautiful construction and I love it.  The dialog in the story drives it, but what always leaves me swooning is the prose.

The reader is given such a poetically clear picture of how Jamie sees Madison - it's a thing we already knew but it's firmly reinforced here.

Smitten.

8 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

Isn’t that what being little is all about?  Being safe and cared for?

That is exactly what being Little is all about.

Not all Littles have a massive trauma in their past that they're stuck on and trying to get over... but enough of us do that I'm still waiting to find out what Madison's is in this story.

Sophie the author is again speaking directly to the audience with these rhetorical questions.

This is what being Little is, at its very core.

8 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

“It’s not your job to take care of me.”

I winced.  This is a line she's heard one way or another, someone saying that very sentiment to her.

"It's not my job to take care of you, Madison."

I don't know who said it, but I can feel the pain behind those words.  The way Madison shuts down when she said it, the way she looks away.  She's not fiery frustrated, she's not embarrassed.  She's hurt.  My heart clenched here.

8 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

“It’s not my job,” I admitted. “It’s my pleasure.”

But I felt better here.

Jamie made everything better for me.  This is a glorious line.

I hope Madison is as comforted by Jamie as I am.

[Wannatripbaby]

Stay put.

What could that mean, I wonder? Why did those words send her spiraling down to the deepest depths of fear?

[YourFNF]

This made my week less shit, thank you

[kerry]

Is this the first time we've seen them have any kind of actual conversation about her Little Days? Although Jamie brings it up in an abrupt fashion, it is important that they talk about this, and I love how adorable this conversation is. 

We learn more about both girls in this chapter, though somewhat obliquely. Jamie's nightmare reveals some kind of darkness within her that can, at this point in time, only be eliminated by the presence of Madison. Why she is having these nightmares is less clear; perhaps we will discover more later. And Madison, though she has no problem "taking care of" Jamie (the food, etc.), seems very reluctant to be cared for by Jamie. I'm more convinced of the notion that something is missing in her home life, that her parents don't parent very well. Dad and Mom, each in their own way, seems a bit stuck on themselves. And the offhand (not dark) way that Madison asks Jamie about them—in the course of making a joke out of spending their money—makes me further convinced that no abuse is going on. Neglect, yes, but no abuse.

I really love this story for its sweetness and light. It's a nice contrast to a lot of other stories I've read, even yours. Yes, I'm talking about Luzy, but you know how much I admire that story. I just also love a cute piece once in a while. ?

[Sophie ♥]

Thanks everybody.  I had a surprise class today (apparently school started??) and so my constant exhaustion begins... I'm sorry I'm not replying individually to the comments this time.  I just wanna get some sleep.  But I want everyone to know I read them all the time (usually more than once!) and they make me all smiley! ❤️ 

Maybe another chapter tonight if I can fight my sleepiness long enough to edit.

[Sophie ♥]

Twenty-three.

    Madison Bell hadn’t had a Dark Day in over a week.  I liked to think I was the reason, but there was no evidence of that.  Spring felt like it was coming early, with all the snow having melted long ago and the dandelions popping up in the school’s baseball field.  But it was barely March.  Conference season was over - I’d have to wait until June to get more material.  Of course, these days, I didn’t have much time for editing anyway.

    One Friday, Madison let me sit in on her Little Day.  We had a lot of fun watching movies and coloring in her coloring books.  She wore a soft sweater that came down over her hands and covered most of her pajama shorts.  The question of sippy cups was quickly answered.  I made us pasta for dinner.

    It was strange sometimes, because Madison would act genuinely unlike a sixteen year old girl.  Her words happened faster than her thoughts and every so often she’d get stuck in the middle of a sentence.  She always held something against her chest in a hug, whether it was a pillow or a blanket or a stuffed animal.  After only a few minutes of watching the movie, she slipped off the sofa onto the floor and would hit my leg whenever she wanted me to pay particular attention.

    And other times, she was as Madison as ever.  She talked constantly about every thought that came into her head.  She had really articulate, insightful ideas.  She colored in the lines with pinpoint precision and shaded the edges where there would be shadows.  It was like when Madison went into little girl mode, she didn’t lose anything that made her Madison Bell.

    I thought it would feel like babysitting, but it didn’t.  It wasn’t very different to any other day.  Madison was a little more forward, more decisive, more demanding.  She knew what she wanted; it actually made her easier to handle!  She wasn’t afraid to tell me things.  She wasn’t encumbered with embarrassment or anxiety.  There was no right or wrong choice, only hers and not hers.  I would do things like make dinner and refill her juice, but Madison didn’t ask much of me.  The biggest thing she wanted was my attention. 

    But the most radical change in Madison was one I had taken for granted the first time I treated her like a kid: she absolutely adored being touched.  Usually I couldn’t so much as brush Madison’s arm without her pulling away, but when she was little it was a completely different story.  She played with my fingers and held onto my shirt, just to feel connected to me.  She took my hand and put it on her head or in her hair or against her cheek.  She shuffled into me and leaned against me.

    Sometime late in the evening, when she was curled up against my chest and my finger drew circles on her back, I took the initiative to push my lips against her forehead.  My lips, her skin.  Everything radiated warmth and all the colors bled brightness.  Madison exhaled and melted into me, but by then I had melted into everything about her.  For a second, just one, we were a puddle of person, rather than people ourselves.

    Together, the word rang in my head.

    Two days later, inevitability struck like lightning in a storm.

<< Polly wants to go to the mall.  Thoughts?

<< I have a huge umbrella so the rain isn’t a big deal.

<< We don't have to go obviously.

<< You alright?

<< Madison?

<< Dark Day?

<< Madison Elizabeth you answer me right now young lady!!

    That usually worked…

<< It’s been three hours, I’m coming over.

    I pounded on her door.  I was still holding the umbrella open, even though the roof covered the front porch.  It was Sunday - her parents should be home, right?  I’d only met her dad a few times, but her mom was sometimes here on the weekends.  I kept knocking.  There was no answer.

<< I am downstairs.

<< I’m not going home until someone opens this door.

<< I am going to catch a cold in this rain.

<< Madison… please talk to me

    Fuck.  I kept knocking.  No one answered.

    I went around to the side of the house, holding the umbrella up over my head to shelter myself from the rain.  Of course, as I trudged along the grass, my shoes started to soak through.  I finally found the window facing the back fence - Madison’s window.  I picked up a pebble from the dirt at my feet and threw it at the glass.  I heard a light ‘tink’.  Lightning cracked and I almost jumped out of my skin.

    My heart was racing when I tossed the second pebble at the window, and another crack of lightning came as I tossed the third.  I don’t know how many rocks I threw, but every time I escalated the size of the rock I was afraid it would smash right through the glass.  Finally, I saw a flicker in the window and the curtains were pulled open.  Madison.  I waved the umbrella and she disappeared from the window.  

    I ran round the house to the front door just as Madison opened it and I pushed myself inside.  Madison looked at me blankly, with quiet eyes, and crossed her arms over her chest. 

    “Why are you here?” she asked.

    “Why aren’t you answering your phone?” I countered.

    “It’s off.”

    “Dark Day?”

    She shrugged.

    “Why didn’t you call me?”

    She shrugged again.

    “I’m supposed to be helping you through these days, you know,” I said softly, trying to steady my anxiety.  Honestly, she had scared me…

    “Nothing to be done.” She turned and walked back up the stairs.  I reached for her wrist, but she pulled it back so hard she actually fell backwards onto the staircase.  I hesitated, three steps down from where she fell.

    “Sorry,” I muttered, but she didn’t say anything.  She got back to her feet and went up the stairs again.  She was wearing pajama pants and that gray zip-up.  Her hair wasn’t curled.  Was she like this last night?

    I took off my shoes and followed her up to her room, but by the time I got there, Madison had already crawled back into bed.  Great…

    “Why won’t you talk to me about this?  You told me last time.”

    Last time had been about her mom.  Madison would get thoughts that filled her up with bad feelings and poured out all the good ones. “You’re bothering everyone.” “No one cares what you have to say.” “You’re a bad person.” “You can’t do anything right.”  One, persisting, constant sentence, sucking the color out of everything.  But which one was it this time?  I crawled into Madison’s bed.

    “You know you aren’t bothering me, right?” I reminded her. “I want to help.  I like helping.”

    She didn’t answer.  She was facing away from me, at the wall.

    “Did you do something wrong?  Nobody’s perfect.  It’s okay to make mistakes.”

    No response.  Not even a shrug, not even a twitch.  I didn’t understand…

    “Madison?  Please.  I can help.”

    “No,” she said quietly, harshly, like the drop of a marble on a table. “You can’t.”

    “Let me try.”

    Madison returned to silence and I put my back against the headboard.  What was the right thing to do?

    “We can watch a Disney movie?  I’ll get you some juice and you can show me one of your nice dresses you keep talking about.”

    The quiet in the room was deafening.

    “Do you have other little things you don’t show me?  I looked up a lot of stuff online about it, so I was just wondering.  I’d love to know more about it.  And I can make us some cookies or pick up a Happy Meal from McDonalds.  I know they have My Little Pony toys right now, or Avengers ones, I think?  It’s not Polly Pocket but—”

    “Stop.”

    Her voice was unmistakable, quiet and desperate.  She was crying.  Damnit…

    “I’m sorry, I—”

    “Please just stop, please stop… I cant do this…”

    I hesitated at another word, at talking again, but I couldn’t sit here and watch her tremble like that.  I couldn’t leave her be when I knew she was crying…

    “I’m going to hug you,” I told her, and did just that.  I scooted in next to her, under her blanket, until my body was right up against hers.  I set my arm down on top of hers, but her shoulder twitched.  She shoved me away, putting a foot of space between us, and almost fell out of the bed.  Then I remembered the last time she did that.  I remembered something else, too…

    “Madison,” I muttered, quieter than I think I had ever spoken to anyone.  She didn’t answer.  I didn’t want her to answer, because I knew the answer already.  I didn’t even want to ask.

    “Madison, are you hurt?”

[bbykimmy]

This chapter is a heck of a ride.  My heart hurts.

1 hour ago, Sophie ♥ said:

It was like when Madison went into little girl mode, she didn’t lose anything that made her Madison Bell.

This is me.  This is my coloring book.  But the thing that I think some people don't realize is even though I still have all of the cognitive capacity and problem solving ability... my emotions feel much, much bigger in a Little place.  Happy is happier.  Sad is sadder.  Fragile is much, much more fragile.

Hi Madison.

1 hour ago, Sophie ♥ said:

The biggest thing she wanted was my attention. 

It's not a want, Jamie.  It's a need.

She needs your attention like she needs air.  She needs to breathe it.

1 hour ago, Sophie ♥ said:

<< Madison Elizabeth you answer me right now young lady!!

Ah the power of middle names   This made me smile even as my heart dropped.  Great timing, if a little structurally cruel.  You gave us the comedy relief right before the car took the drop.

1 hour ago, Sophie ♥ said:

“You’re bothering everyone.” “No one cares what you have to say.” “You’re a bad person.” “You can’t do anything right.”

In my experience, people have this one statement that cuts them to their core.  That all of their negative thoughts and feelings are tied to, it's their negative cognition.  Whether it's not being worthy, or being a burden, or not being acceptable to others, or something else...

Madison's is there somewhere, very near the surface.

I wonder if it's, "I'm not normal."

1 hour ago, Sophie ♥ said:

It’s okay to make mistakes

Hi Jamie, you sound like me

It's okay to have big feelings, it's okay to make mistakes, it's okay to be not okay.  It really hurts to see Jamie flailing this way, looking for the shibboleth, just the right combination of words to get her fingers back into the door of Madison's heart.

It hurts being on the outside when your love is hurting on the inside.

1 hour ago, Sophie ♥ said:

“Please just stop, please stop… I cant do this…”

I have the distinct feeling that Madison's father caught her enjoying Littlespace and he shamed her for it.  Why can't you be like your sister, why do you keep doing this, why don't you grow up, what is wrong with you.

When someone really triggers your negative cognition, possibly intentionally, it's devastating.  This doesn't look like bipolar to me, this doesn't look like depression.  This looks like fallout.

And I have a feeling that under those sleeves, Madison's arms are cut up and down.

My heart hurts.

Be okay, Madison.

[Ishigreensa]

I just read this whole story from start to present location, and I have to say, this story has me all over the place!  I can't believe how insightful this story really is, and though I never really thought I was broken in anyway or a little, but there are things in this story that are really making me second guess my actual orientation.  I listed myself as daddy on the site because I just thought... well, my interest was different.  But I am seeing strange things in this character that I relate to.  

No, I wasn't abused as far as I know....

But I have felt inadequate.  I also started to get these... strange feelings as a teenager, particularly when I didn't think I was living up to what I was supposed to be.  I was inadequate in high school, and was so far out of it, that that was probably one reason that from middle school through high school, I had a hard time relating to peers.

I still don't know that I'm actually a little or whatnot, but I can definitely relate to some of what both Jamie and Madison are going through....  I feel like I get them on a superficial level, at least, and I wonder, if my feelings from my teen days are or are not even closely related to what they were going through in the story....

[Wannatripbaby]

6 hours ago, Sophie ♥ said:

<< Polly wants to go to the mall.  Thoughts?

<< I have a huge umbrella so the rain isn’t a big deal.

<< We don't have to go obviously.

<< You alright?

<< Madison?

<< Dark Day?

<< Madison Elizabeth you answer me right now young lady!!

I know very well what Jamie is feeling here. When you know one of your friends had... problems... silence can be the most deafening force in existence. Every momemt that crawls by new nightmare scenarios pop into your head.

Of course unlike Jamie my friends live hundreds or thousands of miles away. So I never have any option but just to wait in agonizing silence.

[YourFNF]

Wow I feel for this girl

[Guilend]

8 hours ago, bbykimmy said:

And I have a feeling that under those sleeves, Madison's arms are cut up and down.

either cut, or burned. I have tried cutting, but I just can't do it, however I found out i have no issues heating up a piece of metal and burning myself. I haven't done it in years, but it's basically the same thing as cutting. The pain from physical pain can "distract" you from your emotional/mental pain, though it can lead to many medical issues and leave outward scars that will never go away. I still have many scars from those times and even the scars themselves can turn into reminders of the emotional/mental pain and become a trigger themselves. 

 

If anyone ever starts to feel that need or impulse to harm themselves in such a way, please call a good friend, or find someone you can talk to. Sometimes just talking can really help. 

[kerry]

Oh my God:

Yes, it was "inevitable" that something like this would happen, but still that doesn't make reading it any easier. I am feeling so much for both of them right now. I'm just glad that Madison allowed Jamie to hug her; this is the way to fight it: let someone in. And it is the hardest thing to do.

[Sophie ♥]

Thank you guys so much for the comments.  Your replies are so empathetic and it's so... nice.  Nice to know that my silly story can invoke such passion and response in people.  That everyone is connecting to it so well!  And at the same time I am so sorry that anyone has to feel this way.  It's a very scary, difficult, upsetting thing.  And that so many people relate to it is very sad. ;_;

Anyway, the next chapter (which I should post when I get home from school!) will answer all your questions.  Everything will finally fall in place.  Then we can delve into what the mystery means, rather than what the mystery is.   The final six chapters should wrap everything up nicely.

One more thing!  For all the people who have given theories and stuff so far: thank you so much!  Even if they turned out to be wrong, they were so much fun to read.  They helped me understand a reader's point of view.  They let me know which "hints" I dropped were working and which ones weren't.  So if the next chapter isn't what you were expecting, don't feel stupid!  And if the next chapter disappoints you, I'm really sorry... I'm only so good a writer.  

~Sophie

[Wannatripbaby]

21 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

For all the people who have given theories and stuff so far: thank you so much!  Even if they turned out to be wrong, they were so much fun to read.  They helped me understand a reader's point of view

Theory: Madison only exists in Jamie's mind because Nazis brainwashed her to assassinate the president. ?

[Jayme]

18 hours ago, Sophie ♥ said:

And if the next chapter disappoints you, I'm really sorry... I'm only so good a writer.

Sophie, quit beating yourself up... You are a Fantastic writer. I wish I could weight half as well as you. I love reading your stories as you have taken the time and effort to flesh out your characters and make it seem as close to real life as possible. If anyone doesn't like your stories, they must have a personal hang-up about something in the story. 5hat doesn't mean that you are only so good.

Lots of hugs