Locked inside the paradox that was her mind, she had fewer and fewer rational days. On Monday, she was Mata Hari, Tuesday she was Scheherazade, on Wednesday she would consult with her doctors as Anna Freud. Whoever she was, there was a mystery to solve, a riddle to decipher.
No matter that on most days she couldn’t remember what year it was, when in character her mind was keen and logical, her arguments infallible, her conclusions irrefutable, and her storytelling mesmerizing. While entangled in the persona of Anna, her German was impeccable, regardless of her Mid-Western roots.
The further away from her reality she drifted, the less and less of her you could see behind her pale blue eyes. It was if what made her, her, was leaching out of her with each passing day.
Confused and lost in a psychological labyrinth, her doctors had found no clues to freeing her from this chaos.
What the doctors missed in their excitement of having a patient who would make a titillating subject for publication, was her complete duplicity.
She knew where all the cameras were inside her room. If she sat in the rocking chair in the south corner, she was out of sight.
The doctors didn’t perceive how well she honed her craft, How totally immersed in her roles she became. They didn’t know about the research she did, the months of preparation and practice that went into each of her guises.
There was no financial benefit from her game, no blackmail, no thievery. It was the art of her fraud that kept her satisfied. Tomorrow she would escape from this asylum, choose another name and a new target.
Perhaps she would move south. Winter was coming, and the promise of warm weather was tempting.
Rising from her chair, she rubbed her palms against her thighs in anticipation of the challenge, and stepped back into view of her clandestine watchers.
*I really should spread out these prompts, especially since I have committed to the NaBloPoMo challenge to publish a post a day for 30 days. But… day-um… sometimes it’s like the moderators all get together and conspire, “whattya you gonna do this week? Ida know, whattya gonna do?” and they all meld together like they were made for each other.
NaBloPoMo 4/30
Thin spiral notebook 
I’m so curious to know her back story. Since you’re writing so many posts this month, maybe you can squeeze in a prequel to this. 🙂
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I may have to expand on this story if I run out of other NaBlo ideas…. thanks for the suggestion.
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She’s sneaky! I guess the thrill of the game makes it appealing to her.
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Nice piece!
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I had intentions to do both NaNoWriMo and NaBloPoMo, but missed a day, so there goes the NaBlo. Still working on the NaNo. Anyway, I love the twist, and how sublty you pulled me in from “She’s insane” to “Shes in control.” Scary to think that someone could actually be like this.
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I tried to do both last year, when Lance and I were writing Pauley and Millicent, but I couldn’t keep it up.
The brain is an amazing and scary thing. I’m glad this still came across as plausible.
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This, of course, reminds me of our Pauley and Millicent because of how she slips into her persona.
This was so well done because of the multiple prompts. Great stuff.
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So eerie – I like that at first it seems as though she’s insane, but no, she’s just very devious, and for no apparent reason other than to screw with their minds.
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I love how you vary your “subject matter” … your characters and settings … so much! This was delightfully intriguing.
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Sneaky, devilish, and very amusing!
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Succint and clever – shows the cunning of a disturned mind so well p.s.psychology is also infused in my #4 NaBloPoMo
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NaBloPoMo? This month? I guess I blew it already because I didn’t post over the weekend.
Phooey.
Meanwhile – I love the piece. It takes a special personality to maintain a fraud in the face of other people’s scrutiny – to run several frauds at the same time – and to do so intentionally? That’s just slippery slick.
And so is your piece. Really well written, Tara. Well done.
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