Pencils, Dust, and Imperfection

I was in a church. In real life, water has no smell, but I could smell a strange stench from the holy water in this creation of my subconscious. The pews were empty and holding, while a peculiar chandelier hung from above, swaying effortlessly, as if it may fall at any given moment.

The setting didn't give way to the events that took place in this alternate reality. As things progressed, my logical side stated that this was senseless and that I shouldn't be afraid, but the figment of my imagination simply retaliated by creeping me out even more.

I could see myself as a puppet; a puppet with crazy stitches for eyes and a mouth. I was being lowered from the cob-webbed ceiling by someone - maybe God since I was in the house of the Lord.

I then felt a shock of sadness upon realizing that the person I was looking at wasn't me. It was of the poor boy whose mind i had corrupted for reasons unknown. I felt guilty in a dream; a dream that my twisted psyche must likely caused.

A string broke, followed by another. I fell through the vacancy of the chapel, but I awoke before hitting the ground.

I woke up, startled.
I figured I had a not-so-pleasant dream, but I couldn't remember.

That's a good thing.

I just sighed. I couldn't even wake up in an empty hotel room in the middle of the night without a voice in my head tagging along...

Just be happy it's me and not Christian.
He's cost you a lot lately-literally, and metaphorically.

It's my fault, though, Gloria. I told him to do his worst, to try to destroy me, but luck and sense cause him to fail. He was just obeying me.

Christian doesn't obey.
He just listened because it sounded good to him.

...For him and not me?

Exactly.

Because that's all that matters to him?
He's an egotistical arrogant masochist with no regard for mankind?

You're catching on!

I'm sorry it took me so long to do so. From day one, you've been trying to protect me from him, and, when it actually counts, I ignore you and allow Christian to destroy me. He failed, and will never succeed thanks to my unalterable dominance, but if he would have...

It's the early morning-don't think hypothetically.
And you're welcome, because a 'thank you' is in order.

Thank you...but, what now? What is Christian going to do now? He failed, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't take failure too well.

He'll sulk for a while.
Then he'll try a new plan all over again.

Could he succeed?

I don't know, Billie.
I'm not dominant, so I don't know how things really work.

I haven't been tested for Multiple Personality Disorder; I don't know if you and Christian are simply personalities or what. It isn't sensible, and I...don't know what to do.

Well, why not get tested?

Right now? Here in Minnesota? I still haven't gone home, and my mom-in-law's funeral catastrophe was over three weeks ago.

Then go back to Oakland.
Go to a hospital there.

But what if Adrienne's home? She's either there, or still somewhere around here; maybe at her sister's or something and just called my mom to care for Joey and Jakob...

So what?
She's your wife, Billie, you'll have to encounter her sometime!

I know, but I don't know what to do. should I just drive home and hope she's not there or stay here and can continue avoiding each other?

You should try calling her again, and, if she answers, talk to her.

And tell her what?

The truth.
Tell her about Christian.

She'll think I'm insane.

She might, but she also might realize you need help.

I sighed again and rubbed my forehead. The conversation with myself was producing a headache, but I knew the pain was an effect of a rational decision Gloria was helping me make, so the hurt was good in a weird, confusing way.

Gloria was always right, and Christian was always wrong, so I wasn't really surprised by her argument and how I knew getting back in touch with Adrienne was the right thing to do. It was simple, but under no circumstances was it going to be easy.

I checked my alarm clock, and realized it was nine in the morning. I figured Adie was awake, whether she was in California, or still here in Minnesota which was good, because I didn't want to add to her definite and deserved anger she had towards me by waking her up.

Are you going to call her?

That's the plan.

What are you going to say?

I don't know, but I'm not too worried. I've texted and called her for the past three weeks and received no answer.

She has to be cooled down by now.
How long can someone's temper be inflamed?

I don't know. How long did it take you to get over your husband for lighting your dead mom on fire--you know, since the scenario is so common?

I'm sorry, stupid question.
Lose the sarcasm before you talk to her, though.

I already dialed her number. It's rang six times, and no answer, she's not going to pick up.

*67 it.

I sighed, but obeyed. I knew Gloria was just a piece of my subconscious, but I trusted her. She helped me stay rational and sane, whereas Christian did the opposite and contrasted everything Gloria tried to do. It was annoying, and I guess I shouldn't be happy about Gloria since she was a sympatic catalyst for a problem in my head, but I was, in a way.

You should be happy for me.
I'm a conscientious objector to the war that's in your mind.

"Hello?" A familiar voice asked from my cell phone.

"Adrienne!" I exclaimed, slightly stunned by an answer.

"Hi, Billie," she said, sounding understandably reluctant, and I was too. she didn't sound angry, but she only said two words, so who knows? Maybe she's conspiring to kill me, but she can disguise her voice so well that--

Billie! Focus! Say something!

"Hi," I said back, feeling ridiculously uncomfortable. "Um...where are you?" I asked her.

"Home with the boys," she answered. "I told them you had work...are you still in Minneapolis?"

"Yeah," I said softly. " ...I was thinking about coming home."

"You should," my wife encouraged. "That way we can talk."

I agreed silently, and the silence remained for some of the longest seconds of my life. I eventually chimed in and said something that was absolutely necessary.

"I'm sorry."

Wonder if that'll make a dent.

Go away, Christian!
Billie has this problem because of you!

I did nothing wrong.
I just made things more interesting.

Interesting for you, but nobody else.

That's because everybody else is a deadbeat.

That's your excuse?

It's a statement, not an excuse.
Use your correct form of words, Gloria.

I really don't want your sarcasm right now.

And I really don't want your bitchin' right now, but we can't always get what we want, huh?

You're so annoying.
I can't wait until Billie goes to the hospital and gets rid of you. It'll be peaceful from corner to corner of his brain.

Well, you won't get to appreciate the peacefulness 'cause you'll be gone too, stupid.

I know, but at least you'll be gone too.

Armstrong'll procrastinate or something.
But I'll make sure our last days are as annoying as possible.

"Shut up," I finally ordered softly, but sternly.

"Excuse me?" Adrienne asked.

Ha! You said that aloud!

"Adrienne," I tried, but my mind seemed to go haywire with fear and panic.

Say something!

"I'm sorry...for everything."

Adrienne was quiet for a moment before softly saying, "I hope so." She hung up soon afterwords and I left for Oakland with a heavy heart a few minutes later.