Insanity

"I don't remember much."

The doctor glanced up at me, finally taking her gaze off that cursed notepad she always had. "That's alright. You can tell me whatever you remember about the incident," her calm, chilling voice replied. I sighed. She wasn't going to let it go this time. "I cannot say," I told her, hell-bent on not telling her anything.

"And why is that?"

She did not look happy. It seems her patience was running thin. I wanted to tell her, but he wouldn't let me. He told me he would hurt me if I said anything so I had to keep quiet.

"He doesn't want you to know. He doesn't like you," I mumbled out loud accidentally.

"Who is 'he'? Why doesn't he like me?" Her eyes glittered, happy she had a break through.

I gulped and fearfully glanced at the monster standing behind her. His razor sharp teeth glinted in the dim light of the room, his mouth stuck in a permanent, sickened smile that made my blood freeze. I knew he lived in my head but I was aware of the power he held over my mind.

He did not look happy.

"You know what will happen if you tell her, "His voice was soft but sounded like nails on a black board, "it was your fault after all. YOU KILLED THEM."

My face probably gave away the terror I felt. My body shivered violently, and my eyes remained wide open and unblinking. I felt myself hit the ground but I couldn't comprehend what was happening. I could hear dampened screaming. Why does my doctor look so scared?

Then the world went white.

Suddenly, I was back at home. Hidden in my closet with my imaginary friend. I think I called him Rusty. His skin always looked as if it was eroding iron. His smile was comforting and oddly familiar. His eyes were red, as if he hadn't slept in days. Well, neither had I.

You see, we were playing a game of hide and seek. My dad would drink few bottles of his juice while I would find a place to hide. When he was done, he would come search for me and if he found me, he would punish me. He said that he was teaching me how the world worked.

It's been two days; I think I may win the game this time.

While I was mentally rejoicing at my win, I failed to hear my father's heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. My heart dropped when he opened the closet doors to look at me with his hideous, sarcastic smile which usually meant he was in a bad mood.

And so, he dragged me to the basement, and I gave up on any chances of escaping him as I knew what he had in store for me that night.

I was seven then.

The scenario changed. This is the moment right before the incident. It is the night of my seventeenth birthday. I'm in my room, my door locked, and I sat curled up in my closet. Rusty sits right beside me. He isn't as silent as he used to be but he is still my best friend.

"You know, you could always tell me to get rid of them for you?" He said, in his quiet, unpleasant voice. His smile never fading. "I don't think that is right," I whispered in reply. "Who cares?!" He growled lowly, "it's not like they think the same way for you." I remained quiet. He wasn't wrong but I didn't want to accept it.

"Where are you, you little brat?" My stepmother screeched, banging on my door, "come on out~ We have a present for you!"

I froze. Rusty looked at me with a knowing gaze. With what they had planned, I wouldn't survive tonight's session.

I stayed still while she continued banging on my door. Then I heard the jingle of keys, and I knew that it was the end for me.

The closet door flew open, and she dragged me by my hair. I frantically grabbed at anything I could get my hands on, but I couldn't get a grip on it. Rusty followed behind. His footsteps slow and threatening.

"You can rest for a while," he said, "I'll take care of everything." Darkness then overtook my consciousness.

I woke up to blood. It didn't seem to be mine. I felt no pain but there was blood all over me. Rusty sat in the darkest corner of the basement. For the first time in five years, he was truly silent.

I finally took in my surroundings.

Blood.

Mangled, severed bodies.

Two unrecognizable bodies but I knew who they were. The stench. It smelled like they had been lying here for days.

How many days had it been?

I turned to Rusty and his smile did not comfort me anymore. It seemed sinister, even though it hadn't changed.

"The neighbors have probably called the police by now because of the stench," he said with a grin. I could only stare at him in horror.

"Why?" Was all I could get out.

"It was either them or us. I decided I wasn't going to let it be us," he said, nonchalantly.

It was then that the police broke into the house and grabbed my arms, pinning me on the ground.

"What do you mean us?! Tell me!" I screamed as the confused officers pulled me towards the door. They searched the basement for any other accomplices and were even more confused when they found nothing on a second killer.

The memory faded and I felt myself wake up slowly. I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling of my cell.

I was ruled as innocent due to insanity and sent to this mental institution for criminals. Here they diagnosed me with multiple personality disorder and schizophrenia.

"Rusty?" I called out, knowing he would answer as he was always by my side, "did you take over again?"

"It seems you finally remembered," he replied.

I hummed in affirmation. "Why couldn't I tell her?" I asked. He looked at me, his expression serious for the very first time since I've known him.

"Because they would try to separate us."

Then I laughed. There was no humor in it but I didn't know what else could I do to truly understand what took place.

My laugh echoed down the halls of the mental institution whose walls were stained with the blood of those who lived here.

-Khushi Kaul