It's all me

Chapter 3

Having run away from the orphanage, I had to live on the streets until I found somewhere to stay permanently. Nobody would let me rent out a place, because I didn't have a stable job and I was too young and apparently looked immature. If they had found out about my multiple personality disorder, that would have given them more of a reason to refuse letting me rent a property.

I was looking for a property along with trying to get a job. This was very stressful, and drained nearly all of my energy. Without having a job, I wouldn't have been able to keep and rent a house, due to all of the expenses that I was expected to pay. I looked in shops and in hotels, begging for a job, but nothing became of it. They either refused me, because they didn't have any job vacancies, or I looked like an irresponsible teen who had run away from home.

During the time I was looking for a property. I had one of the most terrible experiences in my whole life. It was not the most horrendous thing that had happened to me, but it was high on the list. It was not only a traumatic experience, but was physically painful as well.

Anyway, I was sleeping in a cardboard bed, that I had made from rummaging through dustbins. It was highly uncomfortable, but I had nowhere else. I was probably sleeping on the streets for about three months, before somebody took me in. That person was the one who helped me get back on my feet when I was at one of the lowest parts in my life.

On this particular night, I felt as though something was different. I didn't know why though. I was asleep in my cardboard bed when I heard a noise. There was not usually a lot of noise where I had been sleeping, as I was quite isolated from the rest of the city life, so the noise and sound of people was not only weird, but kind of unnerving as well, as I didn't really feel very safe. I felt like the vulnerable sixteen year old that I was. I kept my eyes shut for a bit longer, but I wanted to find out the unknown, and so I opened one eye, and saw that there were about ten men surrounding me.

I began to shake. I was never very trusting of men, or women for that matter. I felt unsafe, and like something really bad was going to happen.
"Look what we got ourselves here fellas," the guy who I assumed was the leader of their gang. They all cheered and looked at me in a weird way. I closed my eyes. I didn't want this to happen, but it was inevitable. If I screamed and tried to get away, they would hurt me, so I stayed quiet. Nobody would hear my cries for help, we were much too isolated from the rest of humanity and the world.

I prayed. I prayed for my life. I prayed for my health and I prayed for my safety. When I felt them start to touch me, and get their filthy fingers on my skin, I blacked out.

Now during the time I was sleeping on the streets I had managed to gain some control over my numerous personalities, so when one of them was out, I would be inside my head able to interact with the other ones, and effectively realised which one was out. On this occasion, I blacked out and found that I was in my own head. I looked around to find that all of my personalities were in my head, so I didn't really know who was out. I got scared. This had never happened before.

When I realised that I was back, this personality hadn't managed to stop the men from hurting me. I was bleeding and I was crying. "You think you can threaten me and get away with it?" The main man growled hitting me again. On that night, they did many unforgivable things that left me crying for somebody's love or affection. I felt alone. Alone and lost. More vulnerable than ever. I shook and cried for the rest of that night, and didn't move the next morning. I felt emotionless. Everything was too much. I felt numb.