The Death of Me

Chapter One: Home or Prison?

Being the youngest of Thomas's personalities sucks. I was "born" when Thomas learned about consequences and that you couldn't trust everyone and everything. He was about five or six, and all of the other personalities were already developed. I was born to keep Thomas safe. However, the other personalities weren't very fond of that. Young Patton wanted adventure and to roam freely. With me present, Thomas wouldn't do that anymore because he wanted to stay safe. Roman wanted to express himself around the clock, but I stopped Thomas so he wouldn't embarrass himself. Logan wanted the world to know how intelligent Thomas was, but I stopped him from looking like a stuck-up know-it-all. I'm not the bad guy, I never was. I just want Thomas to be safe. At first, I wasn't much to them but a nuisance, but eventually they got fed up. They locked me in the darkest corner of Thomas's mind. At this point, Thomas was around 8 years old. I was doing great, up until he got his first bully. I didn't mind the dark corner, as it was empty other than me. Until that one kid. He called Thomas fat during lunch, and Thomas was able to ignore it. I wasn't. The comment was pushed to my corner and it replayed over and over and over. I was going insane. The next day, another comment was made by a fifth grader named Lacey. She called Thomas a "fag". Thomas and I didn't know what that meant, but it sounded pretty negative. He shook it off, but for me it played in alternation with "fat". Four days passed with the repetition.
"Fat"
"Fag"
"Fat"
"Fag"
"Fat"
"Fag"
"Fat"
"Fag"
I don't think I stopped crying. I screamed and cried and screamed some more. The others ignored me. They could hear me, I was sure of it. They could. Logan came in on the third day to tell me to shut up, and the words shook him. Thomas lost his thirst for learning for a few days. He fell behind at school because Logan wasn't eager as normal. A kid glanced at Thomas's test grade and called him dumb. Then, a new cycle started.
"Fat"
"Dumb"
"Fag"
"Fat"
"Dumb"
"Fag"
"Fat"
"Dumb"
"Fag"
I thought it was all my fault. I still do. But, without me there, Thomas didn't care about these. But I did. I cared. It hurt- a lot. By the time Thomas reached middle school, the cycle sounded more like:
"Fat"
"Dumb"
"Fag"
"Ugly"
"Talentless"
"Useless"
"Boring"
"Lazy"
"Disappointment"
"Fag"
"Pitiful"
"Fat"
"Dumb"
"Fag"
I had gotten so used to this, so I no longer screamed. I only cried. I was a disease to Thomas. All I wanted was his safety, and the best way to accomplish that was to stay in this black, empty void.
Middle school slowly brought me present. Thomas had acne and body odor, which started his self-awareness. I started to fade out of my home. The words were quieting. Slowly. The black was becoming grey. Slowly.
Then, one day, my reality snapped.

-Third Person-

Thomas was 12 when Virgil was released from his home and prison of seven years. In Thomas's dark corner, there was no sound other than the insults, no light, no smells, and no people.
Patton, Logan, and Roman were helping Thomas prep for a show in a few weeks. All was going well and Thomas was his happy, carefree self. But, suddenly, he was screaming on the floor. His head was pressed between his hands, and tears streamed his face. His hands moved to his ears and he rocked back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. His personalities heard an ear-splitting scream coming from his head, their home.
"Morality! Stay with Thomas and get him better. We'll be back!" Logan quickly instructed as he and Roman sank into the floor.