My sister came up to me last night.

She was crying.

She didn’t want her Dad to see.

She was scared he would get upset,

so she came to me.

She came to me,

her sibling,

to do the job of a parent

and I did that job.

I helped her calm down.

I helped her organize her thoughts.

I did everything I could.

But I still have to wake up,

knowing my sister will never have all she needs.

I don’t want

what happened to me,

to happen to her.

So I work,

I keep going,

for her.

I finish what I have to do,

Then, I ask her if she’s ok.

I ask her what happened at school today.

I ask her about her mom.

I ask if her mom was in a good mood today.

I ask if her mom gave her dinner.

I ask what my sister had to hide in order to survive.

I ask all this

because no one asked me.

No one asked me if I was ok,

they just assumed.

No one told me parents weren’t supposed to blame you for the grocery bill.

No one told me parents were supposed to love you more than they loved themselves.

No one told me I was supposed to be allowed to leave the house,

I was supposed to be allowed to go to school,

I was supposed to be a kid,

I was supposed to have been ok,

been taken care of.

Instead,

I assumed that the best the world had to offer was a cold room,

a blanket on the floor

and a child who got yelled at for wondering why nothing ever changed.

I don’t want that to happen to my sister.

Now it is.

I can do nothing to stop it.

All I can do is hope,

give her a person to talk to,

make sure she knows she’s loved

then watch.

Watch

as she is taken away by the same person who ruined my life.

All I can do is watch,

as she comes home hungry,

gets to school late and lies

Because no one believes you when you tell them it was your parent that made you late,

it was your parent

that didn’t get you dinner,

it was your parent

who made you sleep in their bed,

it was your parent

who tried to stop you from going to school,

it was your parent

who told you you would be safe in their clutches.

It was your parent,

who decided you were too broken to be saved.

And it was every other adult you told

who made it impossible to escape.

This was my life

but I’ve never said a word,

Why?

I’m sure you can guess.

So guess.

Think of everything that could have gone wrong and ask if you could do the same.

Could you last the pressure?

I could, but it almost broke me.

I don’t want that to happen to her

but it is.

There's nothing I can do to stop it.

And the worst part?

The worst part is when my sister, the kid I raised,

Calls me mom

And I have to tell her she’s wrong

I have to tell her I’m not her parent

I never will be

Instead,

it's the adults

who are watching a movie

Taking a nap,

Ignoring the world

While I sit here, and watch my sister cry

Cry, not because of what happened at school

But because of the response her parents have

They didn’t notice she arrived

They didn’t notice she was crying

And worst of all

If she tells them

It will only get worse

So she comes to me

My sister,

Comes to me,

her sibling,

to do the job of a parent

and I do that job.

I will continue to do that job for as long as I live

Because no one did it for me.

You don't realize how scary it is to see your own blood on your hands and know that you put it there until it happens. Until, you're looking at your hands and no matter how many times you touch your face they always come away covered in red. You know you put that cut there. You know you dug your fingernails under your skin. You know you've done it a million times before. It's an addiction you can't stop. So, you touch your face again. Your finger comes away red. You take a deep breath, get out your phone, flip the camera to selfie mode and wipe it away as best you can. Your friends can't know. Your family can't know. You have to keep it hidden but your head is faint, your arms have scars you don't remember putting there and you don't know if its ever going to end. This is fear. This is what it means to have lost control. To not know. To never know. And, to never be able to tell.

I am realizing I don't want to talk to my Dad because I don't understand what he sees. I don't know what I look like in his eyes. I can only remember what I looked like in the mirror that morning. I can only guess what name crosses through his mind. I barely understand what he sees in my face when he says I look tired and everything but that is true. I don't understand. I don't understand what he sees. I'm so used to analyzing other people, gathering their view of the world then emulating it in myself that when I don't know what he's thinking my whole personality crumbles. I feel uncomfetable and I don't know how I'm supposed to act, what stereotyoe I need to fill for them to ignore me so I can disappear into the background. I don't know... I need help and I have no where to go, no one who knows the truth and I don't have nearly enough confidence to burden someone else with what's on my mind. So here I am, writing on prose, to an audience I will never know because it is easy for them to dismiss me and for me to do the same in turn. Here, I don't have to pretend in order to disappear into the background. It happens by itself.

I'm choking on myself

just let me scream

let the dark close the doors

let the night sink it

I can't take this anymore

I'll suffocate again

All I want is to scream into the night

to let the darkness hides my tears

now anger is all that appears

it tears me apart

even as I mold it into leather

I'm strong but I am cold

I opened the door

But the light shown too bright

I ran screaming into the night

the night hides my tears

but there's a sound I no longer hear

It's that fake, cover up, whirring

it drowns out the sirens and bombs

it kept me sane

but now I remain

though the city has long been gone

I survived an earth quake

just to witnessed a storm

I was only a child

when I left my home.

I was only a child

when stared off the edge of a cliff

and imaged myself

sprawled at the bottom of it.

I was only a child

when I took death's hand.

No one owes me an apology

they all already paid for it

Whether it was the system

that betrayed me or not

doesn't matter anymore.

I'm locked outside that door.

The door to the real world

a world full of pain

I walk next to people who still remember my name.

They all think I'm insane

but in a world full of sorrow

in a world full of pain

not dying is a win

and its all that I can take

it's one of those days

its where I remain

even when I don't want to remain here anymore

I can't open the door.

It's world full of sorrow

its a world full of pain

its where I remain

till the end of my days

Its a knife in the back

its a stab through the heart

but its a start

cause I'm alive again

At I'm not sufferin' so hard

It's a twist of the knife

but it helps me feel alive.

I may be weak

but I am strong

I'm standing alone

but I still want fall

I want to fall

cause its not worth it anymore

I close the door

I stand on the edge of a cliff once again

I remember that time

when I sprawled at the bottom of it

I still want to die

but sometimes I get live

I continue of because this

I'm no longer one of those kids

I exist

Its a world full of sorrow

its a world full of pain

but its worth it,

every

second of the day

I hope

someday

I'll feel that again

the twist of the knife

the breaking of skin

its real

its hard

its cold

and it hurts

more then you

ever will know

but alive

for the first time

in a long time

is good

and I would 't

give it up

if even I could

I survive every shadow and fall

And I wouldn't give it up for a second of peace on the plane

I remain

I remain

I remain

I remain through it sorrows

I remain through the joys

Even if I hate it

I still rejoice

When all I know is lost

this life, it came with a cost

I'm cold

I'm broken

I've swallowed my soul

But the pieces are here

in the bloodied hands I hold

and I'll sew it back together

no matter how long it takes

I'll live

I'll exist

for fuckgoodness sake

I stake my claim

on

life

with nobody by my side

I survive.

It's a world full of sorrow

It's a world full of pain

I just want to scream

and hear it call out my name

instead I take a bow

to an unadoring crowd

I bow

I'm alive.

My fingers are trembling but that's not the worst of my problems. You see, I can't seem to figure out my name. That problem, on the ranking scale, is probably second. The first problem is either the looming threat of being sent back to an abusive household or the secrecy, masking, and general gaslighting related to my disabilities. There's also the dictator that just took over my country but I don't think I have to worry about that for another month or two.

Huh, reading that over again I am starting to understand why I have anxiety. Let's look at these problems starting with what I think will be the easiest to solve. I should be able to find my name on a letter or something. Let's do that.

(five minutes later)

Ok, I'm back and I found three letters all addressed to different people. As far as I know I live alone. Now I'm more worried, moving on.

The next easiest thing to solve is the trembling fingers. Reasons they are shaking could include low blood sugar, anxiety, an alter being close to the front who.... I don't know. Let's just assume its anxiety. I have some medication for that but I don't want to take it because it makes it kinda hard for me to think and the disassociation and ADHD are already doing that. Let's go to my next problem. I'm not even going to try to solve problem number one so lets go get another list out of storage. Hmm, this one has a bunch of sports injuries: dislocated thumb, foot bent over backwards and now it hurts, it happened to the other foot, now the other thumb hurts as well. It seems I get into trouble pretty regularly.

Ok, I'm just going to put these lists of useless problems away and go home, wherever that is. See you never, but if you could send money for a therapist it would be appreciated.

P.S: I forgot who I was sending this too. From the lack of greeting it looks like I'm sending it to myself.

P.S. P.S: Good night.

"Switch!" someone shouts and a chorus of voice start pouring through the cracks. I'm back. I smile. Tom is standing in front of me. "How are you?" I ask. My brother looks at me strangely. "What are you talking about? I just broke my leg. I'm not answering your jokes." I roll my eyes. I didn't know his leg was broken. If I had I wouldn't have made that joke. Whatever, It doesn't matter right now. I can fix it then yell at the system later. I got down on my knees and started binding his leg. "What are you doing?! That's going to hurt!"

"Yeah, that's kind of the point. I have to set it and put it in a splint."

"No, you don't. I have mods for things like that--" he stopped talking. His mouth opened but no sound came out.

"You're nonverbal." I stated. He grimaced, then nodded.

"Alright, brace for pain." Frantically, he waved his hands in the air.

"What is it?" I asked, impatiently. He proceeded to make a motion with his hands indicating cash and then wiggled his pointer finger in the air.

"I don't know ASL." After that, I looked around for the bandages.

"Wait, where are the bandages?"

Tom looked exasperated and starting flinging his hands around again. I went inside my head. Anyone know ASL? I ask.

It's literally one of my first languages, responds Alaric.

Ok, how am I supposed to know that?

If you ever paid attention maybe you'd know what purpose each of us serve.

I think I heard curses in about fifteen languages after that.

Fine, just get me someone to translate.

I'll go in the front with you.

Thank you.

Back outside, me and my co-con buddy started working together. Her name was Persephone, in case you wanted to know.

Ok, he says that we don't have any bandages.That's why he doesn't want you to start splinting it.

"What am I supposed to do?" I ask.

"Carry me to the helicopter. There you won't have to use any rusty pipes for bracing and I can sit comfortably while you do it." Addy translated for me. I nodded. Alice then helped me carry him over to the helicopter.

Once I was there I started spinning around in a circle. Why am I fronting? Who is here and why are there so many of you? Does anyone know how to fly a helicopter?

I waited a minute and there was no answer.

I'm kinda starting to freak out!

Just then I became aware of my brother staring at me from the bench. I waved and tried to smile but it was kinda hard to convince him of my fine-ness when I was currently sinking to the floor in a fetal position. I put my head in my hands and breathed in and out slowly. I'm fine. I'm fine. I am soooo fine. It took me a couple minutes but I got myself under control enough to fix my brother's leg. The next problem was figuring out how to fly this thing. Just as I started wondering how I got in this scenario in the first place there was another switch. It was a different alter's problem now. I could sleep.

I sat on the train.

It's a little bit late.

I was supposed to be home by nine.

but I lost my breaks

and the thoughts,

they chased,

me into

the back

of my mind.

Huddled on a bench,

I watch the world

as it slowly fades from view,

I stare through the window,

as the shutters close,

hiding me from view.

I'm just a character dying

to keep the plot thriving,

there's no other choice but to go.

I stare.

My eyes stay open

but the light isn't there anymore.

I can't get up,

not for anything,

not for no one,

not ever again

I'm not dying,

but this...

still feels like the end.

I see a friend take my hand.

I know they must sound grand.

I can't hear their speech

I see, on their face

what they're meaning to say:

"I love you,

I don't want you to leave."

too bad,

it's not me,

they see.

From the end of the tunnel

from the back of my mind

I try to respond

but my leg barely moves

and a smile creeps through.

This body is no longer mine.

I can't play the music

loud enough

to drown out

the noise

in my head

from the frame

I'm sitting in front of

the tv

but there's a mile of distance

in between me

and everything

I can't comprehend

reality

So I just wait

until I can't explain

why I'm beginning to spiral

just wait

for the thoughts to go away

for someone else to take the stage

wait

just wait,

for your turn

just wait,

be quiet

just wait,

it'll all be ok

just wait

and wait

and wait

and wait

til you can't wait anymore

and wait

and wait

and wait

till the noise and tv

are no longer here with me

till everything you wish could be

has drowned you out of everything

you wait

and you wait

until you can't wait any more

and then you wake up on the floor

its black out night

and you can't quite remember

if those things were real

or if they're all were things

that just now appeared

but there's coffee by the fire

and the kids are so tired

and maybe it wasn't real?

so you wait

you just wait

because maybe

it won't happen

again

today

I just write something I actually quite liked, but I can't finish the last line and now I hate it. Also, I don't feel that it is relatable to other people. Most of us don't hear voices in our head or refer to ourselves in the plural. I often do and subsequently when I write like that I feel like no one will want to read it. So, yes. There is my uninspired, self hating author statement if the day.

Fractured: that's how I've always felt.

A bit broken,

a bit helpless

and still

I get back up.

I try to find a place that's safe.

I try to carry on.

Yet every little thing

is like a ticking bomb.

One mind, seven faces.

I change at home and school.

My friends are saying I'm not sane.

Sometimes, I say it too.

Then there are times I laugh out loud

and pain is just a dream

but those same dreams come back at night, they become reality.

It used to be my waking day.

I had so much fear.

Now all I have are memories

and things only I can hear.

Sometimes I spin and hang

in sun and fields of green

then there are times when darkness

becomes the only thing I see.

the light is only blinding

and the quiet holds my tears

then there are times music is

the only thing I hear

The war has long been over

but there are pictures on my walls.

I gave up everything I had

and now I'm all but gone.

The war has long been over

but I remember every part.

The silent screams.

The tiny things

like starving in the dark.

What once was beautiful

I only see in blood.

The fields I play in all day

where once my brothers stood.

The war has long been over

but things still feel the same.

I stare into the mirror

but I don't know my name.

Numbers rolling overhead

while thundering cannons roar.

A sequence rumbles through my mind

I can't take this any more.

The war has long been over

but things still feel the same.

The enemy is vanquished.

Now I hold all the blame.

I hear the battle brewing,

the breaking of the tide.

The only thing left to break

is what I hold inside.

The war has long been over,

but things still feel the same.

The war has long been over

but I still hold the blame.

The war has long been over

but cannons shake the ground.

The war has long been over

but my sword was not put down.

The war has long been over,

but things still feel the same.

At night the battle rages,

with memories of the slain.

The war has long been over,

but I have not let go.

I sit cocooned, inside my bed,

and shiver from the cold.

The walls should block the wind,

Time should block the screams.

The bath should wash away the blood,

but still... I bleed.

The war has long been over,

but I still feel the same.

The war has long been over,

but I still hold the blame.

Yes, our foes were vanquished

but a couple things remain:

are the silent screams,

the tiny things,

and memories of the slain.

Good bye old war, hello new one.