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//I haven't rped in a looooong time, so I would love it if someone joined c:}
"My name is Ryan. Ryan Felicity Teagan. When I was nine years old, I was diagnosed with schizophrenia. Even back then I had a lot of trouble handling it, keeping it in check. I lashed out at people a lot, talked to myself, locked myself in this solitary world where no one could reach me, whether violent or kind. At one point, trapped in my own world, I became afraid of myself. I couldn't escape from the cage inside me which the disorder kept under lock and key. I wanted help, I needed help, but I didn't know how to get it. At the age of fourteen, my mom and dad made the dire decision to lock me in a mental hospital. Me and my other half, Sara, argued a lot there. She always wanted to take control. And she was mean. She bit at the nurses' fingers, gnawed on the zip ties that kept her trapped to the bed, and screamed and threatened the doctors, who grew more violent each time. Even when Sara got tired, I was exhausted, and could do nothing against the brutal attack of these doctors.
"After two years, I believe Sara gave up. She still yelled at me a lot, but no longer begged for control. I stayed the head of the house, but she still continues to breathe down my neck, fight and argue with me, tell me I was doing everything wrong. It got worse everyday. I heard Sara and I's doctors and nurses outside our prison one day, saying they might have to put me down. I didn't know what that meant, but Sara did. *They're going to kill us Ryan! God damnit they're going to kill us!!!! You have to get us out of here!!!* But I was too weak. I couldn't get me and Sara out of there. Turns out what they meant as in putting us down was just putting us under medication that kept us drowsy, if not asleep most of the day. This made me weaker. I could no longer fight with Sara. She yelled but I heard nothing. I knew she could feel I was giving in, and she would have all the power.
"Whenever my mother visited me, they wouldn't give me the medication, let me actually talk to her. She told me she only put me in here because she wanted me to get better. But I was getting worse. I wondered if she could tell. I would talk to her about Sara, but she just told me it was all in my head, that Sara didn't actually exist. This let me know she had given up on me. She knew Sara was real. She had experienced Sara's wrath... Did she and dad hate me? Dad never even came to see me and Sara.... Soon they made mom stop visiting me. Told her I was becoming too dangerous. But I wasn't... It was Sara... My sixteenth birthday soon came around. Me and Sara celebrated together, more or less. I was under influence of those drugs, but Sara seemed stronger than ever. She took over, and she fought with the doctors, and they had to administer and extra three ounces to knock her out. I knew they had loss faith in my case too.
"About a week later, the doctors let me watch tv, because I was really calm surprisingly. Well Sara was really calm. We watched the news. It was cool knowing what was going on outside my little cage. Terrorists had apparently invade the united states, and were bombing hospitals. It fascinated me. Why hospitals? And did that mean they would attempt to bomb the hospital I was in? I asked the doctors about it, asked why they weren't evacuating or something, and they simply told me the people here were too dangerous to be saved. I couldn't wrap my head around that, but Sara understood. She grew more harsh everyday, and began to hurt me, using the zip ties to cut deep lines in my skin. And then it came. The bombers, they came to our hospital. I felt the vibrating. So did Sara. She screamed, pounded on the doors with her restrained hands. I had given up. I let her do this all.
"More shaking, and the building seemed to slouch a little, making my body slip slightly to the right. What was happening? It was yet another thing I couldn't quite wrap my head around. Sara, Sara knew everything. She knew our doom was coming if she didn't get us out. The electricity went out. The dark scared me. I screamed, screamed and screamed and screamed. I wanted out. I wanted help. Sara yelled at me, told me to suck it up and shut it up. She continued to try to get out of the door, but I knew it was useless. *I'm not dying this way!!!!* Sara kept screaming, but I knew this was our end. She soon gave up. We sat on the floor, talking to each other. I tried to soothe her, tried to tell her it was okay, but she ignored me, crying, using the zip ties to cut deeper cuts in my arms. What was the point? She kept thinking, wondering why she hadn't ended it earlier.
"The door suddenly opened. Nurses. Sara got our body to its feet. I was too weak. Blood slipped down our wrists, and the nurses paid no attention, grabbing them and dragging us. I screamed inside and out, it wa too much pain. The building slouched more. I could tell it was going to collapse soon. I didn't know if Sara knew though. There was a lot of fire. I dont remember getting out, but I remember the fire, the blood, the cuts, the burns... It was horrible. When I woke up, it was just me and Sara, laying there, staring at the sky. The hospital was destroyed. Dead body parts everywhere. I could hear sirens in the distance. I didn't know if me and Sara would be okay. Did I even care?"
So I hope you understand the story by now. Ryan is a schizophrenic, and she named her split mind. The two suffered two years in a mental hospital before the hospital was bombed by the terrorists whom invaded the US. This is where your character. Firefighters arrive at the scene, police men and paramedics as well. Your character [male] can be a police man, firefighter, or paramedic, your choice, whom gets assigned to get the only survivor, Ryan, to a hospital. From then you glue to her side after getting news that her parents had been killed. We start from when your character arrives at the scene. Just post a pic, name, and your first post c: