Battle of the Killers

112 | The Truth

Why didn't I think of that? Maybe they did kill her? If that's true, it's not your fault that you didn't get it then. They had —  Will both of you shut up and let me listen? My man's talking.

"Two, giving Gmie and Demo immunity. You only did that to control the betting pool, why else?" Seb asked. "And let's not forget this challenge. You've met her before. I can taste it on you."

Nit — don't say her name. Fine, have you met Jookie before? We don't remember meeting him. Pause. Not sure. Since you guys buried me, I don't have my full memories yet. They were coming back when I was in charge. But, I do feel like I might've met him before. Like just looking at him irks my life. I hate him, but I don't truly know why.

"This game isn't about control," Sebastian said, bringing me out of my thoughts. "People don't watch for that. They love the high stakes and the unpredictability of the game. That's why they bet and watch. If it's rigged, then why watch? The viewers forgave you twice now, I don't think they'll do it again."

Jookie took out his phone and laughed. "I cannot confirm or deny any of this, it's up to her to admit it or your whole argument gets thrown out the window." He turned to me. "Do you have multiple personalities, my little peach?" He gave me an unreadable look. I couldn't tell if he was judging me or angry at me.

I squared my shoulders and turned away, all eyes still on me. Just a day ago, I would've denied everything. I made Betinia, and we willingly switched. Who didn't wear a mask from time to time?

I researched dissociative identity disorder before, and I didn't feel like I fit that narrative with Bet. I didn't feel like a host or a system with multiple alters. I just felt like a human being trying to be what society wanted me to be by acting normal and not the darkness that they kept locked away like garbage because they didn't fit their mold of normal. I didn't want to be called a danger to society because once I told people about Bet that's what they would've thought. I had these urges for blood, killing and weirdness before my family tragedy. I was born with them, but no one would've believe that.

I damn sure didn't tell them about my urges after the fact because my mother's decisions already ruined my future because in a professional's eyes, that bloody incident would be the cause of everything wrong with me, past and future. It would taint my existence for the rest of my life. Just ask my therapist. Everything was "my mother this" or "my mother that."

I would never be my mother. I saw and lived the consequences of her actions, and I never wanted to repeat that on innocent people.

I created Bet just for that reason and for survival, so I wouldn't have to spend the rest of my days in a hospital. And once I left that hospital, if I would've told people about her, they'd have put me right back, spewing out how dangerous I was because of my past and because of the stigma already associated with people with DID. Look at the media, we're all dangerous, weird, and violent.

I controlled and fought my urges because I didn't want to be put in that box. I didn't want to repeat what my mother did. I could be normal. I could be if I tried hard enough. If I just made Bet live for me, I would fine. Everyone acted like someone else. It was normal, right?

I believed that until she showed up again. She destroyed that beautiful false world that I created because I couldn't explain her. She wasn't just another mask. I didn't remember anything about her until she showed up a couple of hours ago. And whether I liked it or not, she was a part of me. It was hard to deny or ignore someone talking in your head. I couldn't call her another mask because I couldn't control her. Not to mention the memory loss. Even with everything she's done, I knew deep down that she wasn't dangerous. I mean she could be, but everyone could be. I think she only did horrible things to protect me. To keep me safe, which was the reason my brain created her in the first place.