Gentle rain makes me smile. Its tender pitter patter on the roof is like old friends greeting me after months of no contact. I smile. Moments like this make me wish I had friends. I wish people would stop staring at me. I wish they’d stop whispering. I feel like a ghost that everyone can see. Sometimes I wish I was invisible. Only then can I finally feel normal.
Normal? Whoever said you could be normal? You have me to deal with, remember?
I sighed. “I’m becoming quite nauseated from your shit recently.” I spat.
But why? I’m you, you’re me. You’re basically tired of your own shit recently.
“That’s not the ‘me’ I claim myself to be.” I breathed heavily. “I’m tired of you, the bitchy me that shouldn’t exist.”
The bitchy me? Oh, how kind. You’re words mean nothing to me. No matter how much you hate me, you’re always going to need me.
“Oh is that so?” I muttered sarcastically. “I’m convinced my life would be so much more extravagant in your absence.”
It apparently wasn’t, missy. I’ve only been fashioned by your brain because of all your screw ups. You created me, Cole, and there’s no disposal location in sight.
I stared out into the open beyond these four walls. The rain was beating against the roof harder now than ever. My faced twitched into a smile before I was buried in reminiscence.
You think it’s that easy to shut me out, Cole? Well, shall I remind you of your first screw up… oh wait; you have no other say in the matter. How did he die again… oh yes, you thought it’d be an excellent idea to go surfing in the lake during a summer storm, and apparently so did he.
I blinked back furious tears. “Stop it,” I muttered hysterically.
Why? We’re just getting to the good part! You and Destin were having such a grand time, splashing each other like toddlers while perched atop of your boards, living life like the badass you’ve always wished you could be. That lightning flash came out of nowhere, didn’t it? The brightness that took away your first love… and created the beauty that is me. My personal favorite recollection, if you ever asked.
“Why must you torture my existence?” I whimpered miserably. “I just managed to assent myself before you recalled my cruelty.”
That’s just what I’m here for. My mission is to make sure you don’t forget what you’ve done. I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who made me.
“I understand I made colossal mistakes, but karma has done a damn well job of making my life a living hell. You’re just making everything unbearable.” I retorted.
That may be so, but it’s your own brain doing this. I just happen to be the delivery girl. Speaking of which, I have things to do.
“Other than make me miserable?”
Truth be told, alternate personalities do happen to have lives as well. Screw some more shit up while I’m gone, I’d love to remind you all about it.
“Not likely,” I muttered. My voice echoed throughout the vacant bedroom, reminding me of the loneliness that surrounds this place. Sure, my parents resided directly across the hall in their own sanctuary, but it seems this house becomes more exposed and stony as each day passes. I seized two fleece blankets from the crook of the closet. No matter the temperature, I always felt cold. The sensation of bitterness always followed, and then a deepening grief dug its way to my bones, encasing me in an interminable depression.
