"COME BACK TO ME!" in THE REALITY SOAP: AFTER DAD'S FUNERAL

Come back to me. I know you’re in there. I don’t want him. I want you. They say I should’ve left you long ago. You’re not always yourself. Sometimes you’re someone else. Sometimes I wish I could just protect you from him, but I need to protect myself too. Who are you? Which one is the real you? I have no clue. So does your crying mother. She keeps saying she’s sorry she wasn’t there in your time of need. She’d been unwell too. That monster who called himself a father had somehow convinced them she was unfit, so you’d been left alone with him. You were just a little boy then. You couldn’t protect yourself. God only knows what had happened before a neighbour finally called the police and saved you, nearly dying from starvation and dehydration. All those bruises, broken bones...so much that an innocent soul of a child had to endure. Dr.Allen has shown me pictures of you as a child – and past police records too. Somehow, a good part of you has survived. That’s how we met. But then he started getting in the way again. He makes you unresponsive when I call your name. Sometimes he makes you forget who you are. He tells me he’s just trying to protect you from the world, because you’re such a weakling. He says he doesn’t trust me, because I might be just like your mother – abandoning you in your time of need. But you know it’s not true. Look, I’m still here. You know I love you and I know you love me too. He hates me because he’s afraid that he’s going to get hurt again, and that he wants to always protect you. He has done it again, when – somehow – your father got out of jail and went out looking for you. He’d killed him for you, but unfortunately using your hands. Who would believe that? I do. I know you. I know he won’t give you up without a fight, so I ignore Dr.Allen’s strict warning about not getting too close to you. I don’t care. I only care about you. That night, you were kicking and screaming after they’d put you in a straitjacket. I knelt down and touched your face, forcing you to look at me. Your eyes were wide with rage. It was his expression, not yours. “Come back to me,” I pleaded, with tears in my eyes. “I know you’re in there. I don’t want him. I want you.” You sneered, before you lost consciousness. How familiar. When your eyes were open again, you gazed at me with instant recognition. Your tears started. I hugged you closely, feeling grateful. “You came back!” “Anna.” I looked at you again. This time, you looked as guilty and sad as a little boy that my heart went out to you again. Please, let me protect you. You don’t need him anymore. “Anna, it wasn’t Evan.” “What?” “I had to do it before the old man got to me again,” you confessed. “Evan says I’ve always been much braver than him. He’s just the one with the big mouth here.” “Ethan??” Have I done the right thing? Have I loved the right person all along?

R. -THEME: Dissociative Personality Disorder / Multiple Personality Disorder (Jakarta, 23/7/2014 - @Couchsurfing Writers’ Club, @Anomali Cafe, Setiabudi One – from 8:00 to 11:00 pm)