multiple personality disorder

October 8, 2010
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They come and ask me about her…It’s not very nice. How can I explain to them the lusciousness of her skin, the honeyed interior of her mouth, the crisp tang of her full lips, the smoothness of her breasts, the softness of her thighs? I cannot. I cannot explain.

They come and show me pictures of her…The angles and lighting are all wrong. How can I see her beauty? I cannot see it.

They say I did it. I tell them I did not. They say they found me inside her. I tell them this is true. They say they found the evidence. I tell them I have none. They say she was underage. I tell them beauty before age. They say I am sick. I tell them they have no idea.

I find myself carrying on conversations with her…like she was never killed.

Murdered, she was murdered. That’s what they tell me. I say they are mistaken. Who could ever murder such a creature?

They say that she died because of me. I tell them that’s preposterous. They say I screwed and f***ed and did her until she was bruised and battered. I tell them that’s true. They say she was heavily drugged. I tell them she was too good for drugs. They say they found some. I tell them I gave them to her. They say she died from internal bleeding and the toxic levels of her blood. I tell them they are brilliant.

She comes to me when they are gone. She admonishes me like she used to…for treating her so bad. She sings to me like she used to…when I cry from her rebukes. She smiles at me like she used to…while I ask her how she is. She touches me like she used to…when I touch her too.

He sits and watches like always. He tells me that I did a great job. He tells me that it was a top-notch performance. He tells me that it’s too bad I’ll never get to do it again. He tells me that I am his best student yet. I roll my eyes at him and focus my attention on her body.

He leans forward in rapt interest. He is curious about her. He wants to know why she loves me so. He doesn’t understand why anybody would want to love me. He asks if he can join.

He touches her body with ways I have never seen. He is rough. He is mean. He is cruel. He smiles and tells her it will be okay. She just returns his smile and pretends not to know that he is lying.

Seven weeks ago he told her to run away with me. She came willingly because I told her that I had an apartment. He came along too.

I brush my fingers across her cheek. She smiles. He shoves his fingers in her. She pants. I kiss her perfect lips. She thrusts her fingers through my hair. He digs deeper. He is too much. I don’t like him but I can’t do anything about him. He lives here too.

They come back and ask me more questions. He tells me he wants to have a chat. He sits down and tells them that the whole thing was his idea. I am exasperated. They finally listen to him. It’s not fair. He wanted her dead. He designed the silly experiment. He blames it on me. He gets them to believe him. How come I am not good enough?

I have to sit in this cell. I don’t like it. I just wanna be dead. She left me. She was disgusted by him because she didn’t know that killing her was his idea. She slammed the door in my face and told me she is never coming back. He shrugged and told me it is best for me anyway. I frowned at him and hunkered down in my bed.

If I’m lucky, they’ll execute me. He tells me that my lawyer will keep me alive. I tell him that my lawyer means nothing. He shrugs and just leans against the wall.

I really didn’t mean to kill her. It wasn’t even my idea. How can I be blamed when I am an innocent man? He should be hanged. He should be the one sitting in this cell…without me here as well. He just smiles at me and says we’re a package deal. I don’t like that. I want him gone.

I get the necessary tools to go about disposing of him. He watches me warily. He is quite unsure what to think. He watches me prepare the materials. He is putting two and two together. He is curious. When I tell him his time is up, he laughs in my face. He tells me I wouldn’t dare. I shout in his face to just watch me. He reaches out to stop me but I kick the chair out from under.

A sudden and tight pain is blasted through my neck. Her mangled body is the last thing I remember before my body goes limp. It hangs from the ceiling loosely.

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