Kathy stared at the blank screen, willing herself to come up with a story, a concept, an idea, anything at all. But her mind, like her laptop screen, was completely blank.
"Come on!" She growled in frustration, putting her head in her hands and leaning on her desk. "I can do this." She announced into the silent room.
The room's quiet response only made her feel more inadequate. Kathy jumped up and paced around the sparsely furnished room. She only had one week to show them that she had something. This was her way to get her foot inside the door and maybe get a job at the prestigious magazine. But it had to be good.
She pushed herself back in her chair and took a large gulp of coffee from her black mug that was sitting on her desk next to her laptop, and bore the words "WRITERS RULE" in large white letters.
As she stared at the screen, an idea came to her; a story started forming in her mind, and two characters began to take shape. Her hands quickly flew over the keyboard. She knew she had to type this out fast; otherwise, she was afraid it would fly out of her mind as fast as it had entered it. In the back of her mind, a small voice poked at her. What if the story was terrible? What if her idea was awful? What if she just wasn't a good enough writer? Her hands froze over the keyboard as doubt and fear began to fill her.
She forced herself to keep going and try to put the image that was in her mind on the page. Stories always played in her head like a movie. The test was to make what she wrote match the images that played in her head before they disappeared.
Suddenly, her laptop screen went black, and the laptop itself shook violently. Before she could react, the shaking stopped and the screen reverted to normal. Her Word document was open again, just as it had been before. She inspected it, did a virus scan just to be on the safe side, but her computer seemed fine.
Kathy decided to get back to her story and started typing again. As she did, she noticed something. The lines she had previously typed were different. Not entirely changed, just slightly different. As if someone had edited it and changed a few words here and there.
"That looks much better to me." She heard a gruff male voice say.
She looked around the room in surprise and saw no one.
"Yes, I agree." She heard another voice say, a woman's this time. "What drivel! I would never say that! Kathy, I will never forgive you!"
She walked over to the windows to see if someone was there. There wasn't.
"Why is she over there?" the male voice questioned.
"She thinks there is someone else in the room with her. She doesn't understand where we are." The female voice responded.
"She created us and this story in this contraption, and she doesn't understand where we are?" The male voice retorted in a contemptuous tone.
"No, she doesn't," the female voice answered coolly. "Now hold on a minute, Harold. I must see if we can make her understand."
Kathy had been staring at her laptop screen from across the room for the entire conversation in shock. This just wasn't possible, not at all.
"Yes, it is entirely possible." The female voice said with a tired sigh. "And given the fact that it is indeed happening right now, I would say that it is completely probable."
"Come sit back down in front of this contraption, Kathy," Harold said in what sounded like he was trying to convey a soothing tone, but failed. He just sounded annoyed. "Let us help you finish this story. That's alright to do, isn't it, Helen?"
"Yes, dear," Helen responded. "He's right, Kathy, please come and sit down. We have much to discuss."
Kathy walked slowly back to her desk and sat in front of her laptop again. "Where did you both come from?" she asked, leaning closer to her laptop. "And why can't I see you?"
"We came from your mind," Helen responded patiently. "We did not exist before this. You created us. But I must tell you, I do not like the dialogue you have imposed upon us. We want to help you. Will you accept our help?"
Kathy's eyes widened and her jaw dropped open. Who was she not to accept help from characters that she herself had created? She laughed out loud and looked at the screen again.
"I'm not imagining this, am I?" She felt that she just had to ask the question out loud.
"You imagined us, yes. You created us." Harold answered. "But no, you are not imagining this conversation."
Kathy took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering. "Yes, I will accept your help. If you feel you should speak and act differently in this story, I will change it."
"Good, good girl," Harold said, sounding almost cheerful.
"Alright, let's get started," Helen said sternly. "We have lots of work to do."
"I'm ready," Kathy answered with her hands on the keyboard. "But one question first. Will you both be helping me with all my stories now?"
"Absolutely not," Harold replied. "Only the ones we are in, of course."
Kathy laughed, for this story at least, she did not have to worry about writer's block.
THE END