(A/N): This is the first thing I've ever written, so mind your manners when you review please, but remember to enjoy and review!
The Inventor's Dilemma
"Are you sure about this Emily?" Ryan said as he finally packed the last bag in the trunk.
"We both need this Ryan, you know that." Emily replied, with her usual soft and understanding voice.
Ryan and Emily Copper have been a married couple for a full year, living in the same apartment building as the famous writer Alan Wake and his wife Alice. Both in their early twenties, Ryan is an ambitious, kindhearted inventor and engineer with a brilliant mind for machines (Who is a bit paranoid for his wife's safety, if you ask Emily). Emily, by contrast, is an aspiring artist, a bit on the shy side, (Unless she's around her husband) and likes to keep to herself. Both have had a severe case of "artist's block" as they like to call it, for the past few months. So while Alice and Emily were on "girl's night out" one day, Alice told her a psychiatrist named Emil Hartman, who specialized in helping artists like them get through mental blocks and the like, had some spots at his clinic open. Emily, incredibly frustrated because she couldn't get a good painting out in awhile, called their friend Frank Breaker to ask if there was anyone he knew there that could show them around.
"My daughter, Sarah, should be able to show you around a bit, if she finds the time," The old detective said gruffly. "Tell her I said hi, would 'ya?"
"Sure thing, Frank" Emily said.
But Ryan wasn't exactly "ecstatic" about the idea.
"A psychiatrist!" Ryan shouted. "We're not crazy!"
"Any better ideas?" Emily said.
So Ryan resigned to the idea, seeing no other option. How will we raise a family if we're jobless? Was Ryan's biggest concern. Emily's was more along the lines of, How will I ever get my art well known if I can't paint anything?
So here they were, prepared to head to some small town called Bright Falls that they had never heard of, to stay at a mental health clinic a week after Alice and Alan had already left. Not exactly a vacation, Ryan thought, as he climbed into the driver's seat of their old Pontiac Grand Prix. But who knows? Maybe some fresh air is all we need.
Neither of them expected this to be the worst time of their lives.
(A/N): I should publish new chapters every couple of days or so.