Sequel: Breakdown, Dreams, and Resurrection ›
Pencils, Dust, and Imperfection
This Modern Hell
I'm dominant, Christian.
Can you tell me your plan now?
OK, but it's top secret.
We're gonna have to do a huddle.
Billie's subconscious is resting, so he can't hear us. If he could, it wouldn't matter because he wouldn't remember when he becomes dominant again, anyway.
So, that's a no on the huddle?
Yes. MPD's blackouts and forgetfulness are a nice excuse for me not having to get close to you, huh?
And you think I'm cruel.
Yes, I do.
Whatever, OK, the plan is simple. Armstrong has started the MPD treatment. The treatment is just a bunch of pills he has to take over a period of time. The pills are sitting right in the kitchen cabinet, so all we have to do is dispose of them some way; throw them away, flush them down the toilet--whatever.
That sounds easy though.
Yeah. The only problems are getting it past the wife and Armstrong. When he becomes dominant, he'll realize something's up and he'll blame us. He has to go to the hospital once a week to check his progress, so the doctors will know he's not taking the pills, but Armstrong won't know why for certain because of the blackouts.
So this isn't really going to work then, right? The doctors will know he's not taking the pills, and Billie will know it's us. They'll find a way to give him the treatment.
But it buys us more time here. It's also our last time to mess with Armstrong. Doesn't that make it worth the while?
Not really, but I've got nothing better to do.
Good. So, since you're dominant, you get to go first.
Get down into the kitchen, but avoid the wife and kids.
Where are they?
Who the hell cares? Stop asking questions and go, go, go.
OK!
I walked out of Billie's bedroom and looked both ways before rushing to the stairs...I walked down them quietly and passed through the living room, but avoided the dining room where Adrienne was.
I made it to the kitchen and started looking through the cabinets. I found the medication and quietly headed back to the stairs.
What should I do with them, Christian?
Flush them down the toilet. If Armstrong or the wife sees them in the garbage, then we're screwed.
The bottle and all?
Yeah, sure, whatever. Just hurry up!
But what if it gets stuck in there or something?
Gloria! It doesn't matter! Hurry up before the dominance changes.
OK, OK! Stop yelling, you're making me nervous!
You're the one yelling, genius!
Hurry the hell up!
I stood in front of the toilet while staring at the pill bottle in my hand. The medication was called Cynosporian and the tablets were round, small, and white. They looked weak, but they were powerful.
I couldn't stop staring at the orange bottle. This was Billie Joe's cure, and I was getting rid of it. I was hurting him when I used to try to help him. I had become everything I hated, I had become Christian.
What's taking you so long?
I can't do this, Christian.
Why the hell not?
Because it isn't fair for Billie. We've been torturing him for months, and doing this will just give us a few more days. What's the point?
Gloria, don't you remember how he treated us? You were pissed last week, and nothing's changed.
Just drop the fuckin' thing!
I can't! I don't want to do this anymore!
For God's sake, Gloria. You're such a stupid bitch for helping a guy that wants to fucking kill you.
The deal said you wouldn't insult me anymore, and I really don't appreciate being fucking berated by anyone, especially you!
The deal also said that you would commit 110% and you aren't!
I just can't do this to him!
You're a coward.
And you're a maniac!
I'm a sensible maniac, though. You're the crazy, worthless one.
Just stop it, Christian!
Let me be dominant, and I'll take care of this.
No!
I began crying, unable to control me emotions. I was overwhelmed with guilt for resenting Billie. He deserved to be upset with me, he even deserved to hate me. I'm the wrong one here, he never was.
The pill bottle fell out of my hands.
There. The deed is done.
Christian! What the hell?
Apparently, I'm dominant, so I can do what you were too foolish not to do.
The pill bottle was in the toilet and I flushed them away. By doing so, I also flushed away all of Gloria's happiness, but I couldn't possibly have cared less.
Can you tell me your plan now?
OK, but it's top secret.
We're gonna have to do a huddle.
Billie's subconscious is resting, so he can't hear us. If he could, it wouldn't matter because he wouldn't remember when he becomes dominant again, anyway.
So, that's a no on the huddle?
Yes. MPD's blackouts and forgetfulness are a nice excuse for me not having to get close to you, huh?
And you think I'm cruel.
Yes, I do.
Whatever, OK, the plan is simple. Armstrong has started the MPD treatment. The treatment is just a bunch of pills he has to take over a period of time. The pills are sitting right in the kitchen cabinet, so all we have to do is dispose of them some way; throw them away, flush them down the toilet--whatever.
That sounds easy though.
Yeah. The only problems are getting it past the wife and Armstrong. When he becomes dominant, he'll realize something's up and he'll blame us. He has to go to the hospital once a week to check his progress, so the doctors will know he's not taking the pills, but Armstrong won't know why for certain because of the blackouts.
So this isn't really going to work then, right? The doctors will know he's not taking the pills, and Billie will know it's us. They'll find a way to give him the treatment.
But it buys us more time here. It's also our last time to mess with Armstrong. Doesn't that make it worth the while?
Not really, but I've got nothing better to do.
Good. So, since you're dominant, you get to go first.
Get down into the kitchen, but avoid the wife and kids.
Where are they?
Who the hell cares? Stop asking questions and go, go, go.
OK!
I walked out of Billie's bedroom and looked both ways before rushing to the stairs...I walked down them quietly and passed through the living room, but avoided the dining room where Adrienne was.
I made it to the kitchen and started looking through the cabinets. I found the medication and quietly headed back to the stairs.
What should I do with them, Christian?
Flush them down the toilet. If Armstrong or the wife sees them in the garbage, then we're screwed.
The bottle and all?
Yeah, sure, whatever. Just hurry up!
But what if it gets stuck in there or something?
Gloria! It doesn't matter! Hurry up before the dominance changes.
OK, OK! Stop yelling, you're making me nervous!
You're the one yelling, genius!
Hurry the hell up!
I stood in front of the toilet while staring at the pill bottle in my hand. The medication was called Cynosporian and the tablets were round, small, and white. They looked weak, but they were powerful.
I couldn't stop staring at the orange bottle. This was Billie Joe's cure, and I was getting rid of it. I was hurting him when I used to try to help him. I had become everything I hated, I had become Christian.
What's taking you so long?
I can't do this, Christian.
Why the hell not?
Because it isn't fair for Billie. We've been torturing him for months, and doing this will just give us a few more days. What's the point?
Gloria, don't you remember how he treated us? You were pissed last week, and nothing's changed.
Just drop the fuckin' thing!
I can't! I don't want to do this anymore!
For God's sake, Gloria. You're such a stupid bitch for helping a guy that wants to fucking kill you.
The deal said you wouldn't insult me anymore, and I really don't appreciate being fucking berated by anyone, especially you!
The deal also said that you would commit 110% and you aren't!
I just can't do this to him!
You're a coward.
And you're a maniac!
I'm a sensible maniac, though. You're the crazy, worthless one.
Just stop it, Christian!
Let me be dominant, and I'll take care of this.
No!
I began crying, unable to control me emotions. I was overwhelmed with guilt for resenting Billie. He deserved to be upset with me, he even deserved to hate me. I'm the wrong one here, he never was.
The pill bottle fell out of my hands.
There. The deed is done.
Christian! What the hell?
Apparently, I'm dominant, so I can do what you were too foolish not to do.
The pill bottle was in the toilet and I flushed them away. By doing so, I also flushed away all of Gloria's happiness, but I couldn't possibly have cared less.