Split

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this is obviously inspired from the movie Split. i mean it's not the same plot but you know what i mean. there are no spoilers in here for that movie AND IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED IT GO WATCH IT NOW. actually wait until you've finished this THEN WATCH IT.

Derek's POV

One of my favourite patients is coming in today for his daily therapy session. He has multiple personalities and I have met all eight of them including his original self. His real name is Mieczyslaw Stiles Stilinski, he grew up with an abusive dad after his mother had passed away from a disease known as frontal temporal dementia. I think the reason that Stiles has so many personalities is that he couldn't protect himself when his dad would hurt him, he could not do anything because he thought he was weak. This resulted in the first personality, Mitch. He believes he is an ex-assassin. He use to kill people because he was told to. Mitch is a very strong character. Then, later on, six more personalities had evolved; Jimmy, Stuart, Caleb, Dave, Dylan and Thomas. They all came into the light when Stiles was a young boy and he only recently called for help because he wanted more control over his own body.

MONDAY

I hear my door click open and a boy with a beanie and glasses sits down in front of me, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts to click on the screen.

"Stuart, would you like to talk about anything today?" I say, already knowing who was sitting in front of me.

"It's so hard getting a job out there, the rate of unemployment is 4.7% and they expect me to have a job when I'm only 18," Stuart complains, finally putting his phone down.

"Yes, I understand but would you like to talk about yourself, how are you holding up?" I question him, sitting up in my chair.

"No," he says a bit too quickly.

"Stuart, you pay for these sessions, I suggest you use them," I try to encourage him to talk every session I have with Stuart, which is rare. I hardly see him.

"I never get to be in charge, I'm hardly in charge anymore," he sighs, playing with his beanie on top of his head.

"What do you mean by that?"

"So, we are all sitting in a room, in chairs, we don't decide who takes the light that day it just happens. I never get the light anymore," he whispers, looking down into his lap.

"Have you talked to the others about this?"

"No, why would I do that, I don't want them to worry about me," he states angrily.

"You are one of the youngest, of course, they will worry about you," I say, hoping he would open up to me more.

"I-I have to go, times up," he abruptly jumps out of his chair and runs out of the room, we still had thirty minutes to spare. I guess I will look over his files instead.

TUESDAY

Another day, another personality.

Once again, I see the familiar face of Stiles Stilinksi but it does not fully belong to him. Today it belongs to the one and only Thomas. His hair is not styled with a quiff, it just lays flat on his head, he is wearing a plain grey long sleeve shirt and brown long pants.

"Hi, Thomas, how are you?" I ask the same question I would ask anyone else.

"Yeah, not that bad," he replies, sitting down on the chair in front of me.

"That's good and what have you been doing?"

"Oh nothing really, what can a 20-year-old do here anyway. It's illegal for me to do anything around here,"

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