Control

3 a.m.

Have you ever heard the quote 'if you could see inside my head, you'd want to burn your eyes out of their sockets and give yourself amnesia?' Yeah, me either. But, that's what anyone would do if they could see inside my mind.

You know that kid at school who constantly has someone staring at them? That was me. And I knew why, everyone assumed they knew who I was by my appearance and the abysmal rumors that went around. They weren't wrong though, I killed people, but I also wasn't in my right mind when it happened. No one knew that I had killed people though, it was something I kept hidden from public, even the people closest to me. Only I knew about the killings.

Six psychopaths lived in my mind and took control over my body, urging me to do very wicked things, like killing thirteen people. I called those psychopaths The Others.

They were the reason why I was sitting in a Psychologist's office. I'd seen every professional there was in existence but none of them could pin point exactly what triggered The Others. Basically I'd been poked and prodded with needles my entire life, just for everyone to tell me they don't know how to fix me. I live a very riveting life don't I?

It was the 314th time I had sat in this exact room; just blankly staring at a plain white wall with a lone clock hung up as I counted every agonizing second that passed. Quiet ticking was the only sound that filled the room. I closed my eyes and allowed the noise to soothe my thoughts.

Tick

Tock

Tick

To-

"Mr. Warner," Amy, my psychologist, said in her painfully annoying voice. Her squinting gaze was belittling me like always.

So, I ignored her and let the ticking numb my surroundings again. But after a few minutes, Amy sighed and snapped her fingers in front of my face to capture my attention.

I groaned and swung my gaze angrily toward her, "Yes, Amy?"

She leaned back in her chair, causing it to whine with her movements as she studied me. I hated when she did that, it made me feel like a lab rat. Hell, I basically was a human lab rat getting tested every week in the same, boring office and taking prescription drugs to 'help' my mind. "You never answered my last question, Damon."

She asked a question? I guess that made sense considering the fact that I'd been sitting here for 49 minutes staring at a wall. "I must have spaced out from you boring me to death," I crossed my arms and added my devilish smirk; which always made a vein in her forehead rise against her skin.

She cleared her throat to act as if she wasn't annoyed and repeated herself, "I asked, how often do you feel the need to harm yourself or others?"

I couldn't help but chuckle. "You have asked me this question 314 times now and 314 times I have given you the same answer, I'm not suicidal. Why does every therapist think you want to kill yourself? Answer that for me doc."

She crossed one leg over the other as the vein rose again, "I realize this Mr. Warner but in your case, I need to get you to open up about thi-"

The clattering of the timer for the end of our session cut her off, thankfully. I immediately hopped up from my chair and ran out the room. When I knew she couldn't hear me I said, "I won't be seeing you next week, bitch."

I could admit that I didn't like Amy. She told me she cheated on her boyfriend with countless men until she eventually got caught one night when he got home from work and found her in bed with his brother and his best friend. She acted like she was commendable for it, which is what pissed me off the most.