Split Personalities: Understanding

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Meet my New Family

It’s been five years. I’ve been locked in this prison for five years. The only positive outcome of all of this is that I get to leave on my fourteenth birthday, which is just a few months away. But, let me tell you what happened over these past few years.

Let’s start when things actually started to get interesting. So, after being administered to this place and meeting Trevor for the first time, I thought I truly was insane. I didn’t eat the food they gave me for weeks, and they would have to bring in some nurses and they would physically force food down my throat. They also continued to do the treatments, but it would just continue to get worse. The first time, it was just a large dose to the neck. But, as time prolonged, the doses got bigger and the medication got stronger. I believe I almost died of an overdose one time because of how much they were giving me. Keep in mind I was only eight years old.

However, after a few months passed and I’m nine, they do what they call a physical treatment. Where I would have my arms and legs chained to the wall and Doctor Angus would butcher me with questions. And if I didn’t give him the answer he was looking for, he would take a small pocketknife and slowly drag it across my arms. Then he would cut my legs, then my stomach, and the list goes on. I would hang there, weary from the pain, until I looked over to the corner of the room. See, Trevor didn’t stick around whenever they would do treatments. He would say it’s not his thing, but I saw someone in the corner that day. When the figure came into the light, I froze.

The boy almost looked exactly like me, but instead of having hair, he was completely bald. His eyes were a piercing gray, but his smile is what froze me. His skin seemed like it was burned. He had welts all over and more scars than you can count. He wore the exact same clothes that I did, but his had holes, like someone had burned them. He didn’t were any socks or shoes. His toes seemed to point in all different directions, but the scariest part about him was his voice. When he spoke, it wasn’t like me. All high pitch and full of cowardness. With him, his voice was deep and confident, but they way that he spoke is what gave me chills.

“You see these scars, these burns. I share my pain with you. Every treatment, I sit here watching. Studying. Waiting for the day you would finally open your eyes to see me. You know why I look like you? Because I’m the devil you try so hard to suppress, but something broke you didn’t it?”, asked the boy.

I didn’t answer because I didn’t want to believe him. I wasn’t crazy like him. I would never hurt myself to feel someone else’s pain. I am no devil. Every part of him is what I tried so hard not to become. My mother always taught me to be the light in someone’s life. To be the good in a world full of bad. But for him to show up and tell me that we are the same is something that didn’t sit right with me.

I wanted to ask him if he was real; if the doctor could see him too, but that would only give them more proof that I’m this deranged monster.

“Just like Trevor, I can hear your thoughts. Yes, I am real, but only to you. Trevor is nothing but a distraction. A “bad influence” one could say. But for me, I am your justice. I can silence anyone that brings us harm. I’ve studied many methods before we were brought here, while you slept. All you have to do is let go and let me handle the rest.”

If you can hear my thoughts, I would never let you hurt or kill anyone. They’re blood would still be on my hands, right? I’m not like you. You’re just this bad dream that I just can’t get rid of.

“Of course. I knew you wouldn’t take my offer from the jump. So, let me properly introduce myself. I call myself Devon. You know how you can see me and Trevor? Well, just as you can see us, we can also do as any human would. If I wanted to kill this man here, just a simple slit right under his throat, I could. However, I could only do this if you were unbound. Because, if you were not tied up and I killed him, it would appear to others that you slit his throat. But to you, it would only seem like I was the culprit, and you are the witness.”

What if you did something and I was still tied up?

“Well, that’s more complicated. I can only do something if you are physically capable of doing it yourself. So, if you are incapable, then I am incapable. If I tried to kill him, my knife would just pass through.”

When Devon told me all of this, I was shocked. Mostly because I was bleeding out and still trying to get through the drowning feeling of the medication, but just the way he explained everything. That he’s always been in my head along with Trevor. I started to question if there were more than just those two and if there were, would they be like Devon, a complete psychopath, or like Trevor, who’s just a bad influence?

Turns out, Devon and Trevor were the only people left in my head. At least that’s what Devon had told me. So, for the next couple years, whenever I wasn’t around a camera, I would talk with Trevor and Devon. Try to understand why they were in my head in the first place. One said it was because I was lonely as a kid and the other said it was because of what my dad did to me. Around eleven, I decided to accept the fact that they weren’t going to go anywhere, and I just had to learn to make friends with my enemies. I thought it would be best because if I had their trust then it would be less likely for them to do anything out of the ordinary.

As each day went by, the treatments continued, and the questions still kept coming. The doctors would continue to ask me the same questions about if I had any “imaginary friends”. What was the point? If I told them, would they let me go? Would things remain the same? I didn’t see the reason to change my story since there would be a chance that I would never leave here if I did. Then one day, I was twelve at the time, I guess the doctors decided to stop playing around. Doctor Angus came into my room and here wore this expression that I couldn’t really understand. It was a mix of confusion, hate, and desperation.

“Come with me.”

So, I followed him. I just assumed that he was going to take me to the testing room again, like he would normally do, and just do some more brain scans and tests. But this time, he took me downstairs. I’ve only heard about the downstairs from Trevor. Whenever I tried to ask someone about it, they would always either flinch at the question or completely ignore me. I wasn’t entirely scared, but I was curious.

As we headed downstairs, this awful stench got stronger and stronger. I couldn’t even describe it because it made me feel like I was going to throw up. Once we reached the bottom, there was a steel door with a slider right in the center of it. Then Doctor Angus knocked on the door and someone slid the slider open.

“Aren’t you scheduled for tomorrow?”, asked the man.

“This is urgent. Subject #1934 code: 3429”

“Alright, come on in.”

I didn’t know Doctors referred to me as a subject number. I remember whenever I was at a normal hospital, they would give me nicknames or just call me by my last name. I guess since this was a mental hospital, they wanted us to feel inhumane, like prisoners who can only get out if they plead guilty.

As the man opened the door, the foul smell just whacked me right in the face. I fell to my knees and started to shake. The smell burned my nose every time I took a breath in and when I tried to breathe through my mouth, it only made things worse. It was like I could taste whatever the smell was. I felt my stomach churning, twisting in knots. My eyes started to water. I didn’t think I could take another step, until the man dragged me to the chair in the middle of the room. I was so weak from the smell that I couldn’t even fight him off. As he placed me in the chair, he got what seemed like zip ties and tied my arms and legs so tight that I thought I was going to lose circulation. I couldn’t really process what was going on. It felt like it was another one of his tests, but this also felt like it was something more personal.

Once my body started to get used to the foul odor and my eyes starting to clear up, I looked around the room to see if I could find anything useful. They only had one light and it was right above me. First thing I saw was the man that carried me to the chair. He had a gas mask on, a big black apron, a green long sleeve shirt, and beside him seemed to be somewhat of a kit. He was a pretty muscular guy and quite tall too compared to Doctor Angus. I continued to look around the room. I noticed that there was an abundance of bugs, but they all seemed to gravitate to one area. I followed the trail and then I saw it. It was a dried-up pool of blood with bodies on top of bodies. Most didn’t even have a head, arm, or even their legs. I looked to the side of the pile and I saw a head perfectly intact. His eyes stapled open, his mouth stretched out to a smile, but you could see the cuts that ran deep in his forehead. The split in his chin. He was missing an ear, while his other only hung on by a thread.

I didn’t know what they were going to do to me, but I knew that if I wanted to survive, I had to be extremely careful.

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