Max? I look vacantly at her. I am more confused now than before. "Who is Max?" I ask her, my voice breaking a little in between the words. Saying the name aloud put a knot in my throat; it sounded familiar, but not enough so that I could place it to anyone in particular. "Oh, is this a little game you want to play? If so, then I have absolutely no idea who Max is." she grinned. I was so dumbfounded. This girl was bleeding and bruised and yet she was smiling.
Then it hit me. It hit me harder than this girl had been whipped. Max. I knew the name indeed.
I was a special and quite rare case of Dissociate Identity Disorder. 'Max' just so happened to be the most sadistic and overpowering of my three identities. A pure masochist. He was also the altar that I hated the most, and had endured countless psychologist appointments to gain more control of. I'd never had a time loss like this, however. Entire hours, possibly days were gone. I couldn't remember the last place I was before waking up in this torture chamber of sorts. I start panicking more. What am I going to say to this girl? How do I get out of here? The questions fly through my mind like a whip through the air.
I begin walking around the the back of the structure that is holding the girl who's name I still don't know. Her eyes follow me with each step I take. I can see the rope and the place to which it is anchored. I don't know whether to cut her down or...
I didn't know what I was thinking. Of course I should cut her down! There is no other option!
But she wants to be tied up.
I hear the voices begin to argue.
It isn't right to leave her here alone!
Then give her what she wants.
I don't want to hurt her!
She wants you to hurt her.
I look towards the room from which I came and begin walking to the doorway, my eyes fixated on the whip laying on the ground.
I can't.
Max can.
My head aches and I can feel the pit in my stomach growing larger with each footstep. I pick up the leathery weapon and caress the smooth material. Despite being afraid, I can't help but notice how unnervingly good it feels to hold it in my hands.
My eyes and attention trail back to the girl. I make my way back to where she is and look her dead in the eyes.
"What do you want me to do to you?" I asked.
Her reply made me ache in ways that were neither painful nor frightening.
"I want you to do to me whatever the fuck you please."
And so I knew, I could be Max if she wanted me to.
___________________________
Sorry if it's not the best part, but it's something. There'll be updates if requested and hopefully you all are enjoying so far! Also a little DISCLAIMER: I do not think that anyone with D.I.D or M.P.D is a bad person and actually had a friend once who had the disorder. I just felt that it added to the story and I hope I'm not offending anyone by making it part of the plot. Thank you all for reading xxx
