The aroma of sizzling bacon filled the air, mingling with the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee as the morning sun cast a warm, golden glow into our cozy kitchen. It was a room where the heart of our home resided, a place where Kristonia's nimble movements and my steadfast determination converged to create culinary delights that often defied the boundaries of our little sanctuary. As the savory symphony of breakfast played out, it was a dance of abilities, a celebration of the unique dynamics that defined our daily routines.
Kristonia, my ever-capable sister, gracefully moved about the kitchen with the ease of someone who had mastered the art of culinary craft. Her strides were confident, and her fingers danced along the countertop, effortlessly gathering ingredients and utensils. For her, the simple act of preparing breakfast was akin to a well-practiced ballet, an exquisite performance that showcased her unwavering support.
In contrast, I remained seated, my wheelchair a symbol of the challenges life had thrown my way. Two years ago, a fateful car wreck had altered the course of my existence, leaving me bound to this chair. Yet, it was in this very kitchen that I found solace, where I had learned to adapt and thrive despite the odds stacked against me.
The accident had taken away my ability to walk, but it hadn't diminished my spirit. It had robbed me of certain freedoms, yet it had gifted me with a perspective on life that was as profound as it was unique. It was in these moments, amidst the sizzle of bacon and the warmth of the morning sun, that I discovered the true meaning of resilience and the unwavering bond that tied my sister and me together.
As the kitchen hummed with the promise of a new day, I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over me. It was in this kitchen, amidst the clatter of pots and pans, the laughter of shared stories, and the aroma of breakfast, that I had found my own brand of freedom—one that transcended the confines of my wheelchair and allowed me to savor the flavors of life in their purest form.
Thinking back to our time in high school, I could recall this happening whenever we'd work out after school or something garnered our attention. It wasn't easy to place what was going on between us. My feelings were not sexual but more comparable to a deep bond. The bond is more profound and more potent than just a sisterly one. I could almost hear how my sister was feeling or what she was thinking.
As a student, I remember our classmates being astonished when we seemed to complete each other's sentences effortlessly. However, that alone did not stump them; what did was that it always happened. Our friends would constantly test us during our school years. Most people thought we rehearsed it like a routine.
There were many occasions when they put significant effort into fooling us into making a mistake, but it never happened. Displaying where each other was or walking into class together attracted more attention. The knowledge of our unusual connection was natural to us, and there was never a time when it bothered us.
As we delved into our workout routine after school, the sensation of this uncanny connection would envelop us, drawing us closer together. It was during these moments that the complexity of our bond truly came to light. It wasn't a simple sisterly affection, nor was it anything remotely sexual. No, it was something far deeper, a profound connection that transcended the boundaries of ordinary sibling relationships.
I vividly remember how our classmates would gape in astonishment as we effortlessly finished each other's sentences. It was as though we shared an invisible thread, an unspoken language that only we understood. This uncanny synchronization wasn't a one-time occurrence; it happened consistently, without fail, leaving our friends both bewildered and intrigued.
Our peers couldn't wrap their heads around our unique connection. Some believed we must have rehearsed these interactions, treating them as if they were part of a rehearsed routine. They often challenged us, putting in significant effort to trip us up or catch us off guard, but they never succeeded. We remained in perfect harmony, our minds and hearts in sync.
Walking into school together was another spectacle that drew attention. People couldn't help but notice how effortlessly we located each other, gravitating toward one another even in the bustling corridors. To us, it was just a natural part of our lives, but to those around us, it was nothing short of extraordinary.
Our unusual connection became a defining aspect of our high school years, and we embraced it wholeheartedly. We never felt uncomfortable or self-conscious about it; instead, it became a source of pride, a testament to the profound bond we shared as sisters.
As I recall these memories, I can't help but wonder if there was something more profound at play. Our connection felt like an unspoken promise, a destiny that bound us together in ways we couldn't fully comprehend. It was as if the universe itself had conspired to create this extraordinary bond between us, guiding us toward an unknown future.
Kristonia and I had a connection that defied explanation. It was as if our minds were in constant communication, a silent dialogue that transcended the need for words. We could sense each other's emotions, thoughts, and even desires without uttering a single syllable. It was as if we shared a secret language known only to the two of us.
During those high school years, our classmates often looked on in amazement as we effortlessly completed each other's sentences. It was a sight to behold, one that never failed to leave them astounded. They couldn't fathom how we could be so in tune with each other, assuming that we must have rehearsed these exchanges. Yet, the truth was far simpler—we shared an unspoken connection that was as natural as breathing.
Our friends were relentless in their attempts to test the limits of our bond. They went to great lengths to trick us into making mistakes, but it was a futile endeavor. We remained unshakable; our connection unwavering. It was a testament to the depth of our understanding, a silent agreement that bound us together in ways that no one else could comprehend.
Walking into school together became a daily ritual that attracted even more attention. It was as if we were drawn to each other by an invisible force, our paths converging effortlessly. While others marveled at our closeness, to us, it was simply a part of who we were.
Our unusual connection was a source of fascination for those around us, but for Kristonia and me, it was second nature. We never questioned it or felt the need to analyze its origins. Instead, we embraced it as an integral part of our relationship, a bond that made us unique in the eyes of the world.
Looking back on those formative years, I can't help but wonder if our connection held a deeper significance. It felt like a silent promise, an unspoken pact that bound us together for a purpose yet to be revealed. Our journey was just beginning, and this extraordinary bond would play a pivotal role in shaping our destinies.
"You sure you, okay?" Kristonia questioned.
"I'm fine. Nothing is wrong with me. I'm just happy. Can't I be happy?" I replied to Kristonia's concerned question, my voice carrying a hint of a smile as I met her gaze. I couldn't help but feel a warmth in my heart, a sense of contentment that had settled within me like a cozy blanket on a chilly winter's night. The world outside our little kitchen seemed to fade away as I hummed a familiar tune, the melody resonating with memories I couldn't quite grasp.
"Yeah, sure you can, but that's not what's wrong with you," Kristonia responded, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and care as she handed me a bag of celery. The simple act of passing the bag, our fingers brushing lightly, was a comfort in itself.
I took the bag to the sink; its crinkly plastic texture was cool to the touch. Placing it under the faucet, I turned on the water, and the clear stream cascaded into the bag. I watched the celery leaves dance as if rejoicing in the gentle rain. My mind drifted to thoughts that had been swirling within me for days, like fallen leaves caught in a tranquil pond.
"I wonder sometimes... About our lives... You know just how fortunate we are," I began, my voice carrying the weight of introspection. The celery's vibrant green leaves shimmered under the water's embrace as I continued. "Sometimes it feels like a dream, and I look down at it from afar. Like, is this really my life?"
Kristonia's eyes remained fixed on me, her expression a mix of patience and interest as she leaned against the counter. "Obviously, this is your life. You're right here in front of me," she replied with a cheerful reassurance.
I nodded, my fingers still working the celery as I spoke, "I know that, but I feel like I am remembering my life instead of living my life. My life seems like I'm watching it on holo-TV, but only just before I go to sleep or just after I wake up."
"Like it's happened before, or it's a memory..." Kristonia mused, her voice trailing off as she contemplated my words, her eyes searching for understanding.
"Yeah, a memory. That's how I feel, sometimes," I added, my gaze shifting briefly to the translucent screen that separated the kitchen from the rest of our home.
After finishing the task at hand, I left the sink behind and returned to where Kristonia was expertly preparing our meal. There was a subtle furrow in her brow, a sign that my words had left her pondering the mysteries of existence.
Suddenly, a voice that sounded remarkably human resonated through the kitchen, startling both of us. "You Got Mail!" it chimed its words echoing three times in quick succession.
Kristonia's movements were swift as she reached for the glass mail pad that rested on the bar, separating the kitchen from the dining room. The pad was an astonishing piece of technology, thin and flexible like a sheet of glass but durable, making it seem almost magical. It has become an integral part of our lives, eliminating the need for physical mail and bringing everything to our fingertips with ease.
As Kristonia held the glass pad in her hands, her thumb poised to activate it, I couldn't help but be drawn in by its mesmerizing quality. It blinked blue with anticipation whenever new mail arrived, a beacon of connection to the world beyond our little sanctuary. An authentic human voice emerged from the pad, pronouncing, "You Got Mail!" on the hour, every hour until the mail was checked.
We both turned our attention to the holographic display that sprang to life. An advertisement burst forth, a vivid image of a youthful man standing between us. His charismatic presence commanded our attention as he first regarded Kristonia and then shifted his gaze to me, his smile unwavering.
"Do you want to experience the action-packed thrills of your favorite action star? Do you want to be in the wilderness alongside Chip Tanner, the premiere wilderness expert extraordinaire?" the man's voice boomed with enthusiasm, and enticing visuals of the latest Reality holo-TV Livebox Quantarium accompanied his image. "You can now live the experiences yourself with the latest Reality holo-TV. Experience TV in Reality and put yourself in the moment!"
The words hung in the air, and I exchanged a knowing glance with Kristonia. We both understood the allure of such technology, the desire to escape into thrilling adventures from the comfort of our own home. But as the man continued to present his persuasive argument, I couldn't help but wonder if our own lives, with all their unexplainable moments of joy and introspection, held their own brand of magic that no virtual reality could replicate.
"Don't wait until tomorrow. Experience what life is like in a place you thought you could never dream of going. Our Reality holo-TV Livebox Quantarium can take you to the four corners of the planet and beyond. Need a full dive suit? No need to worry; reality argumentation technology allows you to watch movies as if you were there. Right into your brain. The Reality holo-TV Livebox Quantarium can take you into your wildest dreams,"
My sister Kristonia and I exchanged knowing glances, our eyes rolling in synchronized skepticism as the latest technological marvel promised us the world. The brochure, adorned with flashy graphics and promises of adventure, lay on our kitchen table, just a few inches from Kristonia's fingertips. With a casual swipe, she brought it closer, and a dimly glowing circle blinked to life in the bottom right-hand corner of the letter. Her thumb found its place on the ring, and within seconds, a series of quick beeping sounds confirmed her identity, granting her access to the holographic content.
As she stared at the holographic display, her eyes widened with a kind of joy I hadn't seen in years. The corners of her lips curled upward into the most radiant smile, one that had been absent from her face for too long. She glanced at me, her expression now elated beyond words.
"Hey! Kristen! The letter you've been waiting for is here," she exclaimed, her voice tinged with excitement, knowing full well what this meant to me.
My heart raced as I urged her on, the anticipation building within me. "Awesome, Kristonia! Read it, read it, please!" I pleaded, my eagerness hard to contain.
Kristonia chuckled, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Geez, your eyes aren't broken; you can still read," she teased, but her fingers were already working on opening the letter. "But okay, hold on one second."
The anticipation I felt was electric, a surge of emotions coursing through me. Since the day I woke up from that life-altering accident and learned that I might never walk again, this day has been my beacon of hope. So, I braced myself, gripping the edge of the table, as my sister began to read aloud the first few paragraphs of the letter.
"It states that DNA Labs selected you and accepted you for the medical trials planned for... wait a minute. It's in two days, Kristen," Kristonia's voice held a mixture of disbelief and excitement as she read the words. "They provided two airplane tickets to Heartfield Advanced Research and Medical Institute in Heartfield, the capital city of the Maine territory. They are sending their representatives to accompany you and me to the airport. And get this, we get to fly in the company's private jet, and we should expect a call within a few hours. They will provide all the information we need to know. After you accept their invitation, you will get the verification number."
The weight of those words settled in my chest, and a sense of overwhelming joy washed over me. "So, are you moving forward with it?" Kristonia asked, her eyes locked on mine, searching for my decision.
Without hesitation, I declared excitedly, "Let me think... Of course, I will. Wouldn't you go, Kris?"
Kristonia nodded, a supportive smile gracing her lips. "I'll call them. They left a callback number if we missed the call. No sense in waiting if you've made up your mind. Let Mama and the children know!"
With a determined nod, I agreed, "Yes, let's not keep them waiting."
It didn't take long for DNA Labs to swing into action. Within a few hours, a team of personnel arrived from the regional lab in our area, their professional demeanor exuding confidence and expertise. DNA Labs was known to be one of the largest pharmaceutical companies globally, with clinics and hospitals sprawled across every territory in the American Union. Still, their central laboratory was nestled in the heart of the Maine territories, making it a beacon of medical advancement and innovation.
The representatives from the lab advised us to pack light, assuring us that everything we needed would be readily available at the Heartfield Advanced Research and Medical Institute. They handed us two plane tickets, crisp and embossed with the DNA Labs logo, signifying this pivotal journey into the unknown. As we began to prepare for the transformative adventure that lay ahead, our hearts filled with excitement, trepidation, and the shared hope that this endeavor could change the course of my life forever.
With each passing moment, the reality of this extraordinary opportunity began to sink in. Kristonia and I had always been close, sharing our dreams, hopes, and, most importantly, our unwavering support for each other. The prospect of venturing into the unknown together added an extra layer of anticipation to the mix.
As I wheeled myself through the familiar hallways of our home, I couldn't help but notice the framed photographs adorning the walls. They depicted our family's journey through life – the joyous moments, the challenges we'd overcome, and the love that bound us together. My gaze lingered on a picture of my children; their bright smiles mirrored in mine. They were the reason I was embarking on this uncertain path, hoping for the chance to walk again and actively participate in their lives.
Two times talking about how they would feel a bond while working out.
Three times saying the same thing in different words about how their friends were astonished at how they could finish each other's sentences followed by saying that they would try to trick them into messing up.
Two times stating that they can find each other in school at least. I thought there was another mixed in somewhere, but at least that one wouldn't just be the same thing in different words.
Not to mention all the times you just talk about how deep and profound their bond is over and over.
What happened? Did you just come back to this at three different times and just started writing while forgetting about what you already had down? I noticed a bit of this in the first chapter too but it wasn't this bad.
That was the point; it's called a motif. It's reinforcing that there is something out of place as it's a memory fragment. The feedback we've gotten is people seem to get confused, so I reformatted the story to be told through memory fragments. There are a lot of errors in the MC's memory, and I did not know any other way to convey to the reader that there is something wrong.
The memories are supposed to mimic being actively edited by outside forces as if the MC's mind were connected to a computer. I have been hesitant to go into deeper details as it completely gives away one of the major plot points. The story has been edited multiple times and will continue to be modified based on reader feedback. It is very difficult to show that the stories are being told as if someone is reading a database or that the MC is watching their own memories.
This chapter is revised from its original in December; it used to only be one chapter, but beta readers suggested it was too rushed and did not delve deeper into the connections of the MC's bond as sisters or the significance of them leaving and why it was so important. What I attempted to do was convey that the MC is remembering. Still, the memories are hazed, as if they already happened or did not happen the way they remember. The new format was to have the reader assume they were reading an entry on a computer or that they were reliving events that may or may not have already happened. The original title was "Fragments of my Death," but we changed that several years ago to the current title.
This is our first book, and we made a lot of mistakes when writing it over seven years ago. It's changed a lot as well. We learned a lot over that time, especially show vs. telling, but that is always a challenge. Thank you for your feedback, any suggestions on revising the chapter is welcomed and you can DM us anytime.
@Beyltwinsauthors We also tried to emphasize foreshadowing with the way we revised the initial first chapter, which, after revising, had to be broken into three different chapters. The MC's family and her sister's POV is about returning home. It's supposed to convey a sense that they made a mistake, especially Kristen, who believes she is responsible. Kristonia's POV is to convey the anger and resentment for the situation.
We wanted the reader to understand how important Kristen's family was to her and that leaving to undertake an experimental surgery that could allow her to walk again was dangerous. That alone can cause a person to doubt the choice they are making; it's based on real-world experiences. The surge could be a success or a failure, which could cost a person their life. Making such a decision is difficult, and I wanted to convey the emotions of what making such a choice meant.
I know how making a life-or-death choice is, and you worry about your family. What will they do without you? Do you undergo surgery in hopes of getting better, or do you take your chances? Do you leave it to fate or hope that a procedure will save your life. In Kristen's case, she wants to walk again. How do you convey something so many people hope for, yet unless you are in that position, how can you understand. I attempted to put life experiences from our own lives into the story to convey the proper emotions of both MCs.
If I delve deeper, more plot points will be revealed. This is part one of a trilogy that we are still working on. Parts two and three are finished but unpublished until we get part one to a place we are happy with based on reader feedback.
@Beyltwinsauthors I see, you didn't really need to explain quite that much tbh, I got most of it except the spoilers and some minor points. Honestly though the repetition made this extremely hard for me to read, I almost just gave up on seeing the third repetition of the them finishing each other's sentences part.
Now that you've explained I guess my complaint would mainly be that this method makes the reader go through quite a lot of redundant text and that the edits to the memories aren't meaningfully different so far as I can tell. Honestly just the part at the top is probably enough foreshadowing of the events you mentioned, so using a less obtuse way of showing edits or even not showing edits and just letting readers find out about it later would probably do.
Regardless, I won't tell you how to write your story, just do what works with your vision I guess.
@ZeoRydan I understand, and I wanted to clarify, as sometimes we get comments that ask obvious questions. We make it clear that all chapters in all stories can be revised at any time. I am open to changing this chapter and have been waiting for feedback from readers on such issues. We use AI to help with grammar and other issues when it comes to developing a finished chapter. I also do an analysis report to give me an idea of what issues we have and to revise our writing when it seems lacking. Without an editor, it's difficult to know what is good and what is now, but I always try to answer comments as best I can. We've had comments on other sites and from beta readers who also ask additional questions. So, I figured it's easy to be as open as possible and cover all the questions in a comment.
Next week, I will look at reducing the repetition. That is why comments and feedback are important. Drive-by comments that do not seek to help us improve our writing are not much help, but comments like yours do help.
@Beyltwinsauthors Expect when it comes to fan service of character descriptions. I overdo it. I forgot to add that I am big on character descriptions.