There are two sides to me. There is one I try to control and one that controls me. I don’t know how I can keep them in silence how to continue with them warring inside of. I wish they would coexist in this plain normal looking person I try so hard to pretend to be. I can’t let apart of me out and can’t let the other control me much longer.

He wants to break free, and the other won’t let him breath. I’m a mirror of what everyone around me wants me to be, of everything you wish you saw in a human being. I’m not empty, I’m not hallow, I’m just too full, too stretch too much and too little of everything needed to be normal.

I’m a picture the war inside me drew. I’m speckles of blood and skin forming some other gory masterpiece. I’m nothing and all. I’m loosing my battle and soon I will disappear.

“Mikaya”

“Yes, sir?” The beast in me growls wishing to destroy the man in front of me for interrupting my rambles, for giving the other side strength to hold him down. It growls against my other self trying to break free, wishing to claw at the pale skin of my employer, wishing to feel his skin and blood under my finger nails. To tell him I am better than him, let him know it’s his job I should be doing. But the other me uses the anger flowing from my beast to work on this façade. It keeps me in my seat with a smile on my face awaiting orders.

“I need the numbers for the Johnson’s account by four today” I nod and turn back to my computer. I feel the tranquil me let his hand of the beast mouth and I feel the beast tear at my insides punishing me for allowing once more tranquil to succeed. I’m there battle ground, I can give one or the other the upper hand from time to time, but I can do nothing to stop the fights. I can do nothing to stop the beast from ripping at my heart, from pulling on to my desolate soul. I can do nothing but continue to type, do the math and get the numbers.

At 3:55 Johnson’s file is resting on Mr. Terrance’s desk. I make my way back to my desk and start to clean everything up for the day. Blue pens in the left drawer, reds in the right, files with names starting with A-L on the right side, files with M-Z on the left, lift the mouse a disinfecting wipe over the surface, place the used wipe in the bag to my left, next the keyboard another wipe this one is placed in the bag to my right, slowly every thing divided into neat piles on there respective sides. Tranquil is taking over me, the beast too tired to fight has cuddle beneath my heart to sleep and so tranquility has no adversary and takes over. Move the screen to the left clean its right side; move the screen to the right clean the left side. Make sure no dust is left; turn the chair two times to the right one time to the left make sure it is centered to the desk. Three steps back and inspect.

Tranquil is fully in force right now, taking advantage of the sleeping beast making me comply to its obsessive wishes. He never tires, he never sleeps like the beast does, he is mild and never does too much everything is controlled and planned, but he isn’t strong and wild like the beast and so he can never take complete control, he toys with me for now, knowing that when the beast awakes I will return to be a normal person with no obsessions or weird quirks. It’s good that he doesn’t sleep; god only knows what the beast would have me do then, would have me do again.

I stand in front of the elevator. I press once on top of the down button, twice beneath it, I step left, I step right then I call the elevator. I wait center to the door.

-

There so many people close to me, ‘close to me.” How can they be close to me when they do not know me at all? How can I blame them for not knowing me when I’m nothing but a mask?

My sister has known me since she was born, 22 years next week. She saw me grow next to her, she saw the changes but still she doesn’t know me, she sees, she is just an spectator to this show they call “Life.” Stare at the clown putting up a parade for the entertainment of his so called friends, to laugh and love that that is anything but whole or real.

My sister, Jayne, she has watched, she has seen the change, she sometime wonders what happened to her big brother. A faint memory of the 10 year old boy who held her hand, who pushed her down and cleaned her wounds, who in a hug could poor all the his emotions. She isn’t sure who she likes most, this apathetic, compulsive moppet of a man, who most think would never harm a soul or the vivacious, ruthless unafraid boy she remembers the one who had no problem with pushing you down the stairs. She still wonders who I really am.

I feel the beast awakening, complaining about the fruitless tasks tranquility forces me to perform. It fights for me not to step left and then right before entering the door. I’m a step away from home; I just need to cross the threshold, the door open wide inviting me in. I can’t move paralyzed till the me’s settle the argument.

I lift my foot about to step lefts. The beast growls with in me, reminding me of who I was, of how the irrational fear of not stepping left has made me a laughing stock. I step forward, my foot moving down over the threshold into my home. Tranquility yells in agony, tackling the beast. It reminds me of what happens when it controls me; it reminds me of why there are now to of me. Why I must have this eternal battle inside of me. I step left, I don’t step right instead I walk in and close my door. I let the beast know I won’t let either win, I won’t choose a side.