Ultraviolet

Prologue: Beginnings

(Author's Note: You're about to encounter a LOT of Author's Notes before this chapter begins. I know it's annoying, but it is information that you really need to know. Please read all of them, but only AFTER finishing this chapter. I promise it will help you. You aren't 5 years old, you can manage a few minutes of reading some background information. There aren't so many notes in the other chapters, so don't be discouraged by the abundance here. Read on!)

(Author's Note: In some places, you will see three dashes in a row. Those are meant to resemble an em dash. I just put them there because there's not an actual character on the keyboard for the em dash, so I would have had to go copy one to paste every time I wanted to write. It was easier for me to replace them with three dashes.)

(Author's Note: I wrote Ultraviolet a while back within the course of a single month when, at the time, I wasn't a very experienced writer. There may be inconsistencies in the quality of my writing due to my huge improvement during NaNoWriMo. My writing does get better the further you read, so if the first few chapters don't interest you, please read a little more before deciding to drop it so that the quality will improve and the story picks up. After about Chapter 7, if you still think that Ultraviolet may not be your cup of tea, it is best to stop reading. The fact that you're reading this note right now shows that you were at least interested enough to take a peek, so thanks!)

(Author's Note: Sorry for having so many notes, but I think that they are very important to the reader if thought to be necessary by the author. Anyway, I'd like to talk about the supposed clinical insanity of Dianne. And no, I did not include it just to be edgy or to romanticize a mental illness. Dianne's condition does have a specific name, but I will not mention here as it is revealed in Chapter 22, so for now, I will just call it "insanity." Of course, mental illness is never to be looked down upon or should never be seen as something that makes someone inherently evil or dangerous. Insanity alters perception of the world, which could mean infinitely many things, and is to be taken as the reader sees fit. To be truthful, Dianne's condition itself is not what really matters in this story, rather the unfortunate effects and hopeful process of recovery. I also needed to include some form of severe mental illness in order to highlight the horrible treatment and neglect of patients in mental institutions and lack of sound knowledge of doctors and psychiatrists during the early 1900s, a time period often considered to be a medical golden age of America, which is true in some cases, but completely false in the case of our main character. Dianne's insanity is meant to act as a driving force for her actions and thoughts, not as a "personality trait" of a flawed hero or villain. It is a never-ending challenge for the protagonist, but something that she can live a normal and fulfilling life with. I suppose, to put it simply, it is meant to draw hope and a sense of having learned how to better deal with the hurdles of mental illness in everyday life at the end of the story. I highly doubt anyone will read all of this, but if you perhaps have, thank you so much!)

(Author's Note: Last one, I promise! I CANNOT stress this enough; PLEASE COMMENT! You know I am serious about this because I used all caps, and I almost never do that unless I have a very good reason to because I find it unprofessional in almost all cases. Please comment, vote, message me, anything, because I really appreciate ANY feedback, positive or negative! Don't think you're being a nuisance, or that I won't ever see it, because I will, and I will forever love you. Leave 30 comments on one chapter for all I care, I'd be so happy! Advice, criticism, notes of encouragement, I want it all! Literally, if it's as simple as telling me a word I used that you think is cool, comment it, please. Enjoy!)

I'm still a little confused about how exactly I ended up here. I can't complain though, because I'm in a better situation than I was before everything happened. I'm trying my hardest to make up for what I did. I'm very grateful to my mother for continuing to support me through all of this. I suppose I should explain what happened.

I had been living in the Hopskinsville Insane Asylum in Kentucky ever since the day of my sixteenth birthday. Frankly, I probably should've been in there before that day because I was always describing incredibly strange dreams that I had that I could've sworn were real. No one ever believed me, but I knew that what I saw existed, somewhere and somehow.

When my best friend, Elizabeth, drowned, I became very reclusive, and my family began to worry about me. Of course, it's normal to mourn the death of someone you care about, but I was very quiet, and I stopped talking to everyone. I was fourteen at the time, so it was abnormal to be so downcast. I even stopped talking about my dreams, because I had accepted the fact that everyone thought I was just speaking nonsense. I began to have eerie dreams in which I was trapped in a pitch black room, and all I could see was Elizabeth staring at her reflection in a puddle. I tried to call out to her, but she never seemed like she was able to hear me. Fitting for my grief, the economy was doing horribly during this time, and it still is. Folks are starting to call it the "Great Depression." However, my mood did not always match the current national crisis. It was unnecessary to worry about such a trivial thing.

About seven months after her death, I recovered from my depression, however, I refused to say anything about my dreams of Elizabeth, or about any of my dreams in general. I had stopped having the happy, whimsical dreams of my childhood. Only dreams of Elizabeth occupied my mind. Fortunately, this did not stop me from trying to be cheerful.

On my sixteenth birthday, something awful happened that I was not able to explain until recently. I could never remember what happened, or what I was even doing on this day, most likely because of my burning rage. From what I knew, I fell into a tragic state after the "mysterious disappearance" of my brother, Clarence. I was transported to the Hopskinsville Insane Asylum in my sleep, where I was told the news.

I was enraged when I was told that my brother was gone, and I immediately knew what had happened to him. I think it must have been my instincts, that told me that my brother was kidnapped and murdered. This was the only logical explanation for the incident because I was sure that someone as innocent as Clarence could not have run away, or died due to some sort of natural causes away from the house. He didn't deserve to die like that, well, he didn't deserve to die in general, but only a dastardly villain could have done something like this. From then on, I had a burning desire to find my brother's killer. I would track them down and make them pay for their crimes.

I was also furious that I had been put in an insane asylum. I begged the doctors to send me home, but they told me I was "unwell." I wasn't stupid, I knew they were saying I was insane. It was literally in the name of the institution. They probably told me this because they didn't want to hurt my feelings. I was only sixteen after all. I was not insane! I knew I had problems, but I was far from "unwell." Anyway, I had to deal with living in the asylum, whether I felt that I should be there or not.