• I learned fairly early how to leave my mind. With that thing inhabiting it, how could I not. Living with the sadistic thoughts everyday almost drove me insane, but technically I’m already insane, or, at least, that’s what people think. I know every crazy person says this, but I really and truly am sane. It’s just…well, he’s not the sane one. The doctors say I’m Schizophrenic, but it’s much more complicated than that. It’s actually my brother’s fault, but let’s not go into that, it was a long time ago. I’m 17 now, so it was about 10 years ago that it happened. Afterwards, my teachers started noticing the changes in my personality. Before he came into my life, I was happy and very outgoing, but then I started to shy away from everyone (not wanting to hurt them).
    On top of that I became short tempered, and stupid little things set me off. I started getting into a lot of fights, so the teachers intervened. They called social services, thinking I was being abused or something, and they put me in this crazy house for awhile. They did a bunch of tests and asked a bunch of weird questions. They asked me to draw pictures of what I like to do, and he drew these really sadistic and graphic pictures (just like him to make things worse). Now, here’s the thing, I can’t draw. At all. So, when I drew things, they could tell someone else was doing the previous works. Since they were observing me both times, they came up with their answer. Multiple personalities.
    So I stood there, looking at 3 guys who looked like they were my age, but they were dead, and I was drenched in their blood. Even if they attacked me, this was wrong. I silently cried for a minute before closing my eyes and returning to my mind. See, you always come back for help he said immediately. I wouldn’t have to if you’d stop this! I snapped. well, fine, then you can clean this mess up yourself. shut up! You know if I get caught, you come with me! I opened my eyes and was lying on my bed at home, with new clothes on and my hair washed. I sighed. I tried to be nice, but I couldn’t control him. Yea, I can do a better job then I did 10 years ago, but that’s not saying much.
    Whenever I get intense feelings, a little part of him leaks out. Yea, I said intense feelings, meaning bad or good, although when it’s a good feeling, I can at least fight him. It doesn’t help being a 17 year old guy. So, intense feelings of…lust, tend to pop up pretty often. And whenever people tell me extremely good news, well, you can only guess how that goes.