𝑰𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒆

{ 𝕀𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕞𝕖 }

Chapter 1: A Heart That Doesn't Listen

The hardest battles are those you fight silently inside a mind that won't shut up.☘︎

"Have you ever thought, Nathaniel, that maybe you are the problem?"

The doctor said, observing him from behind his thin glasses as if trying to pierce through his skull and find the sack of troubles hidden there. His name was Dr. Gray. Yes, Gray, just like the color—ambiguous, neither friend nor foe, and it's hard to tell whether he's about to prescribe medication or throw you out the window.

Nathaniel sat on the cracked leather couch, which seemed to have witnessed more mental breakdowns than any other couch in the neighborhood. His eyes fixed momentarily on the painting behind the doctor: a faceless woman in the midst of a dark, swirling vortex. He had always thought it represented him—or them... the ones inside him.

In a sarcastic tone, he said,"Honestly, Doctor, what are we gaining from these sessions? We've been doing this for almost a year, and I’m still not a normal person. Quite the opposite, actually—I now know their names, their voices, even their bad habits!"

Dr. Gray tossed his pen onto the table with a light rattle and leaned back in his swivel chair."Well, at least you’ve moved from denial to sarcasm. After a whole year, that's remarkable progress!"

Nathaniel sighed, rubbing his face with his hands, muttering,"I don't need a psychologist... I need an internal pest exterminator!"

The doctor burst out laughing—a real, loud laugh, as if he’d just heard a joke.

"You know, Nathaniel, what I like most about you is your sarcastic spirit. It’s the only thing that keeps you coping with your... uninvited guests."

Nathaniel shot back, still sarcastic,

"Guests? They're not guests, Doctor—they're long-term tenants, and unfortunately, they don't pay rent!"

The doctor observed him for a moment before asking seriously,"Tell me, is Elliot still interfering with your decisions?"

Nathaniel nodded, smiling despite himself."If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here. Elliot is the only constant in this chaotic mess."

---

After an hour of "therapy" that felt more like talking to a decorative wall, Nathaniel left the clinic, dragging his feet as if returning from a lost battle. The weather was gray and cold, as if the universe decided to match his mood.

He crossed the street to the café opposite, where Elliot was waiting. Elliot sat there, sipping his coffee calmly, looking like he owned the world. With his messy blonde hair and oversized jacket that seemed borrowed from a '90s movie scene, he looked up and waved enthusiastically.

"Feeling better?" he asked with a wide smile.

"Do you feel regret?" Nathaniel replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Not at all!" Elliot said, handing him an extra cup of coffee. "You need coffee more than therapy—at least coffee doesn’t judge you."

Nathaniel sat beside him, taking a long sip before saying,

"If I wasn’t already mentally ill, I would have become so just by hanging out with you."

Elliot patted his shoulder with a grin.

"Don’t worry, I’m here to drive you crazier. You’re a genius, Nate, but you’re stuck in your own head. You need to get out."

"Go where? The world? The world doesn't need a guy with eight personalities and an internal record full of chaos."

"It needs you. Maybe not the whole world, but at least this neighborhood. Or... the company you work for."

Nathaniel Crawford. 27 years old. An interactive environment designer at a major gaming company. He creates digital worlds where people escape... while he can’t escape his own mind. Quite ironic.

He's been living with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) for more than a year.---

In the evening, he returned home late, quietly taking off his shoes so as not to wake his aunt—the kind woman who raised him after his father’s death, unaware that her nephew was essentially a walking internal circus.

He entered his room and closed the door behind him, standing in front of the mirror.

Silence.

He whispered,

"Quiet night, isn’t it? Kind of weird and unsettling."

No response. No voices in his head. No whispers. No buzzing.

Something felt too quiet... almost dangerously so.

And maybe, just maybe... that was the worst sign.

⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡... ⋙

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It's the first chapter so I don't know if there are some mistakes. Thank you for your precious time👉👈