The Things I Hide

Introduction

My Story is not the greatest. For my entire life I have been alone.

Well... almost alone.

My name is Ssundee. 

At a very young age I was disowned by my mother. I'm pretty sure I was seven or eight. It was hard. She knew there was something wrong with me. I think that she couldn't bear that I was not one person.

You see, I am split into two halves. I  have my own conscious thought while another part of me has his own conscious thought.  The problem is that we share the same body. Together we are Ssundee. After going through the trauma of fending for ourselves, we have grown accustomed to each other. 

It is hard to share a body.

Both of us lust for the chance to control that which forces the other to be in still and trapped. We don't do it to spite the other though; only one of us can be in control of the body at once. Its just how it is.

We used to fight for control over the body that we have because we were  childish. Like I said before, we were both under the age of 10 when were were disowned, and very much like children the we were, we would both be greedy.  Things are different now. The thing that unites us is that we both have the same goal: to survive, and to do that, we have to work together. We both understand that neither of us are more deserving than the other to be in control. 

No Matter how good the sentiment is though, I am the more dominant one over the body. This is mainly because out of the two of us, I look the most normal. 

When Derp in in control, my body tends to become cross-eyed.

Neither of us know why. 

Though he doesnt say it, I know that Derp hates that he is messed up.  He feels guilty that the body becomes "damaged" when He is in control. To make it worse, the day Derp's eyes first got messed up was the day that we were disowned. The events that transpired that day were not his fault, but the guilt plagues him.

I had decided to let Derp be in control while we had a good conversation with our mom, and something happened. During the conversation, the eyes decided to do their thing, and before we knew it, we were being hit and shoved away. Mother had known that I had some sort of split personality, and the eyes were the last straw. Mother had said some very hurtful things, and shoved us out the door. She told us to leave and never come back. She said that she hoped we would be killed by the creatures of the night. The only thing that she gave us to survive was a Diamond knife. I dont think that any description that I could tell you would accurately describe the emotions that were flowing through our heads: Fear, despair, sadness, hopelessness, fury. 

People dont take very kindly to Derp's appearance. When they see him, they either become scared or want to murder our face off. There aren't many other reactions, so most of the time I deal with human interactions.

In the time we have been on our own, we have done some terrible things.

Have we killed? Yes

Did we like it? Absolutely.

We didn't like the idea of it at first, but after everything that has happened to us, we have started to love the suffering that we can give to people. No amount of blood can ever make up for what our mother did to us, but for every time we have had to kill it feels good to at least pretend that our pain is being avenged.

Yes we may have killed, but with that said, we are not professionals. We do not seek out blood.

It really is a kill or be killed world.

Scars and scratches riddle our body.

They remind us of the hardships that we have faced. 

The things that have tried to hurt us.

We live like nomads, forever moving.  We live off of the land. Seek shelter under vast canopies. 

Catch what we eat, and eat what we catch... if we catch it.

The isolation that this lifestyle has wrought on us has been less than ideal. 

It messes with our sanity. 

Derp more so than me.

It has gotten so bad that he can no longer maintain our original voice. He can normally manage a sentence or two before it cracks and changes. I am pretty sure that the reason for this change is because of us switching back and forth. 

His voice becomes more drug out,

higher pitched.

He sounds like a psychopath.

For that I am just as guilty as he is, as we share the same brain.

Right now, we are lucky. We have managed to get a friend. 

Not just one, but five. They say that there is one more person in their group, but that he had to go away.

They also say that they are anxiously awaiting his return, and I admit that I am a little bit curious to see who he is.

The blessing of having friends is good, but it is also a curse.

They don't know about my Derp side, and based off of what I have seen so far, I have an Idea what they would do, if only they knew,

 The things I hide.