Pencils, Dust, and Imperfection

This place is looking more homely by the minute.

Stop talking, Christian.
Billie needs some serenity.

I just made a simple observation.
It's not like I have more matches or anything.

Just be quiet.
You talk all the time, and it's driving Billie mad.

Then why don't you stop talking?
You're driving me mad.

"Shut up already - both of you," I ordered urgently. "I'm sick and tired of both of you."

Billie, I'm not trying to -

"Billie?" Adrienne asked. She was sitting next to me in the same exam room we sat in 2 days ago, a look of worry in her eyes once again. "Who are you talking to?"

"You know damn well who I'm talking to," I answered bitterly, becoming annoyed with either myself, Adrienne, or both. "They won't stop talking; it's killing me."

"They aren't real," she reminded sternly.

"How can't they be?" I asked quickly. "They feel so real. They're in my head and I can't get them out."

"Billie, they are not real," she repeated. "You're just sick...you're going to get better."

"You don't know a goddamn thing," I spat at Armstrong's credulous wife.

She just stared at me, her infatuation finally starting to run out.

Gloria, can you get him to not be an ass?

No, I can't.
I'm sick of trying to do things for you when you show me no appreciation or gratitude!

I'm sorry! I was just annoyed with Christian!

And me. Apparently I'm just as bad as that creep.

Whatever, Gloria. I just don't care anymore.

"Billie, I'm just trying to be supportive," the wife said. "No, I don't know what it's like, but you shouldn't expect me too. You should expect me to try and help, though."

"You've been doing a great job so far," I said sarcastically said. "Armstrong's about ready to blow his brains out."

Adrienne stared at me in disbelief as I wondered what insensitive remark came out of Christian's mouth.

She was being all lovey-dovey.

Oh, my! How dare she care about her husband like that!

It's sickening.

"Billie?" the wife asked. "Billie, do you know where you are?"

I rolled my eyes. "I may be losing my mind, but I'm not going blind." I snapped at her.

What just happened? Weren't you just dominant, Gloria?

I was, but I'm not anymore, apparently.

Yeah. Pay attention, Armstrong.

"Billie? Are you...you right now?"

I looked at my wife, confused. "Of course I am," I said, but grew worried the moment the sentence came out of my mouth. "Why, what happened?"

Her wariness became fear instantaneously.

"You don't remember? What you just said, how you acted?"

I looked at her, trying to recall anything, but I realized that I couldn't. I remember telling Adie how real the voices were, but that was it. I must have done something either incredulously saint-like or destructive to the point where Adrienne could tell that it wasn't me.

The doctor came in, a distraught expression on his face. In that moment, I knew what was going to be said.

I knew that Christian and I were going to die.

"The tests were not completely conclusive, but I'm fairly certain that you have MPD."

Ah, shit.

The next step to help us confirm is to conducting a questionnaire," the doctor continued. "We ask you simple questions and see how your other personalities will react to them, if MPD is what you have. If it is, there is an experimental drug that has shown significant improvements in patients with the disorder. We can try it, and see where it takes us."

"I don't want the pills," I said.

Huh? What are you doing, Gloria!?

If you have MPD, I'm not taking the pills.

But why?

Because you don't appreciate me, and if you don't appreciate me, why should I help you?

Way to rebel!

You don't know what my past was like. You don't know about all of the shit I've been through. And you don't care. I'm sick of being ostracized by stupid and self-centered men.

Oh, cry me a river.
I give you props for your amateur rebellion there, but stop being so melodramatic. All he did was call you out, he didn't ostracize you; Armstrong isn't smart enough to be that cruel.
Suck it up and stop being so goddamn pathetic all of the time.

"I'm not being fucking pathetic!" I cried aloud. "Is it so goddamn pathetic to want some fucking respect!? I'm sick of being the carpet everyone walks all over! I'm sick of fighting for my life! I just want..."

"Billie!?" Adrienne questioned frantically as the doctor tried to grab Billie's now shaking body.

I was on the floor and everything went black from then on.