Pencils, Dust, and Imperfection

"I hear voices."

The psychiatrist scribbled a few notes down while I pretended to seem uncomfortable as I begin. "Well, there's a girl named Gloria. She's always bringing me down and crushing my self-esteem by pointing out all of my flaws. Then, there's a man named Billie."

"And does Billie demean you also?" She inquired.

I pretended to contemplate the chicks question, even though I had all of my answers mapped out. "No, not really. Billie just...He's very diabolical. I hear him devising a plan to destroy me."

The bitch nodded. "Does that worry you?"

"Of course!" I exclaimed.

"But do you understand that the voices that you hear are not real?" She inquired.

I nodded. "They feel real, but I know they're not."

"Then this shouldn't worry you Christian." She said. "Your perception of reality is intact; that means you are fully capable of understanding the real from the fake."

I sighed sadly, seeming distressed. "But you don't understand! I'm doubting my perception. The voices are so real, and I don't know what to do with them."

The psychiatrist looked at me sadly. "Christian, you came to me for psychological help, but I would suggest you check yourself into a hospital. The voices you hear could mean a psych disorder."

I pretended to be astounded. "What kind of disorders?"

"I shouldn't discuss this with you." She deflected. "You need to see a medical doctor and receive--"

"Please," I interrupted sounding desperate. "Just give me a general idea...so I know what I might be in for."

The bitch sighed again and looked at me sympathetically. "Schizophrenia and Dissociative Identity Disorder are possible."

"What's the last one?"

"It's better known as Multiple Personality Disorder and unfortunately it makes a lot of sense." She said. "You told me about the depression, anxiety, blackouts, and auditory hallucinations and those are all MPD symptoms.

"Wow," I said, but I was actually pleased.

"But don't dwell on that," She tried. "You'll need blood tests and a full work up to confirm--"

"But that will take too long," I interjected. "These voices are driving me insane. Isn't there a pill a can take that will make them go away or something...?"

"Not exactly," she said. "There are psych medications, but you don't have a confirmed psychological illness and you have to go to a specialist to get such a prescription."

"So you're making me suffer like this?" I questioned angrily. "You are making me deal with Billie and Gloria without lifting a finger to help!?"

"I'm prohibited to do--"

"Waste of Armstrong's one hundred dollars..." I muttered under my breath as I stood up to leave. "Thanks for nothing." I added bitterly.

"Christian, our session isn't--"

I walked out on her. If she wasn't going to kill off Armstrong or Gloria, then I didn't give a fuck about her.

I sighed as I walked out of the building and towards Armstrong's car. I didn't put quarters in the parking meter and the cop had given me a ticket. I pulled it off his windshield and placed it on a nearby car.

Don't you ever get sick of cheating?
Of just falling through life?

No, I don't, actually.
Probably because of how easy it makes things.

Why do you like that, though?
Don't you ever want to accept a challenge?

I just left a shrink.
I don't need you to act as one.

Ah yes, you visited a shrink.
Didn't work too well, did it?

There are other shrinks out there.
Probably some that don't care much for authority.

Why do you want that?
So they can slip you a magic cure all pill?
A pill that will make Gloria and I disappear?

Does that seriously surprise you?

What could possibly be your motives, Christian?
The fact that I'm just in the way, and Gloria is a gracious saint?

Again; does that seriously surprise you?

Your motives are pure and your plan to destroy me will never work.

What makes you so sure?

I'm real; the dominant personality. The shrink said I could have MPD and if that's the case, then, you're just an annoying little piece of my mind that's got to go.

Not if I say I'm the dominant one.

That still won't work! Besides, you're basically screwed anyway. 'Christian Armstrong' is the name on the shrink's paperwork and you don't even exist.

I'm sure there's a 'Christian Armstrong' out there somewhere.

Sure, but it isn't you.

It is now.
Fact it, you know this can work.

No, it can't. And you're just too stubborn to admit it. You're a piece of my subconscious, not vice versa. If you were too take a magic cure all pill, you'd just be committing suicide and killing Gloria. I know that's a win/lose situation for you, but the point is, you'd be dead. Gone. And I know you don't want that.

...Why are you being so considerate?
I vaguely remember you bitching me out for lighting your dead mom-in-law on fire last week.

Why do my motives suddenly matter?

Cause they do.

Will, if you must know, I decided that I want to the plug myself. I don't want to commit suicide, but I want to cut the cord that's keeping you and Gloria inside of my head.

Plus, I know your plan won't work; I know that you can't destroy me, but I can destroy you.

So...you want to destroy me now?

I always wanted to destroy you.
I just never went around flaunting my plan, because that's stupid.

Listen, Armstrong, you don't know what you're doing.

I know exactly what I'm doing.
You just don't want to accept the fact that I do.

So what?
I'm the dominant one as of now.
You're just a auditory hallucination, who has it's panties in a bunch.
Everything I do matters; I'm not just a piece of subconscious right now--you are.

Your point is...?

When you become dominant again, you won't remember any of this conversation because it isn't real. It's like when you were on the patio or with the wife in the bathroom.
So, you're actually just wasting my time, Armstrong.
And that's all.

He isn't wasting your time.
He's just trying to put an end to all of this.

Oh joy, you're awake...

And angry.
Let Billie do what he feels needs to be done.

You're such a stupid bitch, Gloria.

How so?
Be detailed too, oh perfect Christian!

If Armstrong follows through with "pulling a plug" then you'll die too.
Not just me.

I am aware of that.

And that's why you're a stupid--

I am willing to sacrifice myself, if it helps Billie get his sanity back.

But why?
What makes your motives so pure and justified?

I don't know.
All I know is it's the right thing to do.

C'mon! Can't someone be on my side?

Sorry, but no.

No, but I'm not sorry.

Face it, Christian.
Your plan of Armstrong-destruction has failed.

Ha! In your face!

Fuck off.
Just fuck off.