How He Broke

Trying To Understand (Tate's POV)

"So, how have you been, Tate?" Dr.Harmon asked.

It's been approximately 3 months of consistent visits with him, and I feel like I've made tremendous progress.

"I've been doing really well actually." I smiled. "Sage and I are doing well, although we still aren't anything official."

Dr.Harmon smiled as he wrote that down. "Prom's coming up isn't it? Why not ask her to it?" He suggested.

The thought of asking Sage to prom made my stomach do a flip, and the thought of seeing her in a fancy dress made my heart race.

"I just might do that."

"Good." Dr.Harmon nodded. "And your alter? How is he doing? Has he come out at all recently?" He asked.

I shook my head. "No, he's been pretty silent these last few weeks."

"That's good to hear."

I nodded.

"And your at home life?" Dr.Harmon asked, looking up from his notes to face me.

I felt my heart drop at his words.

My at home life was far from what anyone would consider "home".

My mother constantly on my ass trying to make me the "perfect" son, her pervert of a boyfriend who I knew had another family outside of her, my brother locked away in the attic; chained like an animal, and the ghost of my dead sister roaming the house like a child.

"It's.... Fine?" I answered.

"What's been going on?" Dr.Harmon asked, seeing straight through my lies.

I sighed, reliving the flashback.

"Tate?! Tate where are you?" My mother called for me.

I didn't respond. I didn't want to see her. I didn't want to speak to her.

"Tate please.. I just want to talk to you sweetie. Come talk to mama."

She wouldn't give up if I didn't, so I walked down the stairs, her back to me.

"What?" I answered, my voice monotone, careful not to show emotion; careful not to show any weakness.

"Jesus!" She jumped nearly out of her skin.

Damn. I thought I actually scared the life out of her this time.

"There you are sweetie." She smiled, cupping my face in her hands, "My perfect, perfect son."

I held back the urge to roll my eyes. I wasn't perfect. Nothing about me was even close to perfection, but she didn't notice that everyday was a struggle for me. She only noticed how "normal" I looked.

"Look at you," She smiled, brushing my hair back, "My gorgeous gift to the world. My perfect boy."

I slapped her hand away, tired of her useless praise.

She looked at me with shock, her eyes wide and mouth gaping.

"I'm not perfect mom." I told her.

"Yes you are, sweetie! Just look at you!" She smiled, trying to touch my face again.

I stepped back away from her.

"You, Tate, are the very definition of perfection. It took me three tries, but at least I got it right with the last one." She cooed.

In my mother's eyes, my siblings were monsters. Ugly, hideous and deformed monsters. The thought that a mother could despise her own children that much made me sick, made me loathe the very being of her existence even more every day.

"When will you realize that I'll never be your perfect son?!" I yelled, pushing her away from me.

I nearly knocked her off her feet as she stumbled backwards into the wall behind her, causing her to knock a frame off the wall.

It fell to the floor, shattering on impact.

She looked at me in disbelief.

"I wish you never even gave birth to me." I said under my breath.

I didn't have time to react, or even blink before her hand came flying at me, slapping the life nearly right out of my body.

I stood in shock, unable to comprehend what had just taken place.

"You were blessed with so many gifts, Tate!" She yelled at me, "How is it that you can't bring yourself to use any of them?!"

Another slap, and another after that until she had backed me into a corner on the stairs, relentlessly slapping me until I was driven to tears.

She stopped, realizing what she had done.

"Tate I-" She backed away, her hand covering her mouth as I stared up at her from the fetal position I was in, tears streaming down my face.

"A lot." I answered, breaking away from my thoughts, unwilling to go into full detail about it.

Dr.Harmon nodded, deciding not to push me any further on the subject.

"Then tell me more about, Sage."

"What about her?" I asked, all too willing to talk endlessly about her.

"What's been going on with her? Anything happening in her life?"

The most recent thing that's been bothering Sage is flashbacks about her dad.

"She goes through these random spurts where she's completely mortified," I said. "She sits crouched in a ball, not allowing me to touch her or even come close to her."

"Why is that?"

"She says it's memories of her past." I answered. "I never want to ask her about it because it seems too traumatic for her."

"How does it make you feel when, Sage has these episodes?"

"Sad. Useless?" I answered. "Sometimes I'm worried that the episodes are actually caused by me. That she's afraid I'm going to hurt her or something."

"Do these episodes occur at times when your alter comes out?"

"No."

"So they're sporadic?" He asked, writing it down.

"Basically." I nodded. "Like we could be sitting there, laughing about something one second and the next she's crying and telling me not to touch her."

Dr.Harmon nodded.

"Well, the next time she has one of those episodes, Tate, I suggest holding her and reassuring her that her father isn't going to come and hurt her. That you'll protect her."

"But she doesn't want me to touch her..?"

"Sometimes people need that physical touch and reassurance when they're having a panic attack." Dr.Harmon explained. "And from what you've told me, and consider the two of yous bond, having you hold her and reassuring her that nothing bad will happen to her, might be exactly what she needs to get over it. She helps you all the time, so why not help her as well."

I nodded.

"Now, let's talk about those fantasies you had mentioned to me a couple sessions ago." Dr.Harmon said.

"Which ones?"

"The ones about setting your mother's boyfriend on fire..."