Staring into the mirror, he wondered who he really was. If he pulled out the papers from his safe under the bed, they would tell you his name Jeffrey Roger Atwell, twenty-eight year old male living in Plano, Texas. Six feet two inches in height, one hundred eighty pounds, blue eyes, black hair. Organ donor, born in Plano, graduated Plano East High School and University of Texas at Dallas. But those were just surface features. What terrified Jeffrey is what lived inside him, what he had just been told at his weekly session with Dr. Sanches. He took a deep breath and fought back tears.
He heard his father’s voice. “Only pussies cry.” A slap that knocked him down followed. He didn’t realize at the time that only pussies beat people for crying. He pushed that memory back into the recesses of his mind. There were other memories scrambling to get out. He remembered the act that started the turmoil, his most recent tearful outburst.
Four months prior, he was at the funeral for his Uncle Nathan. He felt empty as he looked at Nathan’s body in the casket. Someone was talking in his ear about how Jeff was Nathan’s favorite nephew, how they always had fun together, and surprised she was that they didn’t keep up with one another after Jeff finished school.
Jeff turned to her. He wanted to tell her that he had no idea what she was talking about. Jeff couldn’t even remember talking to Nathan. He wanted to demand that she explain herself, but his head began to ache. Somewhere inside him, the urge to scream took hold and began to fester. He felt his heart rate increase; his breathing became short and rapid. His girlfriend Emma stepped up to him and began to lead him outside. One of the staff from the funeral home came up to assist. Someone was saying it was a panic attack.
A voice inside Jeff’s head began to scream, “I’m glad the bastard’s dead.” Another voice, one of a child cried out how much he loved Nathan. The dichotomy escalated within his head, and before he reached the doors to exit the room, Jeff crumpled onto the floor. Those in presence said he emitted a loud guttural cry of anguish the likes they had never heard.
Three days later he sat in Dr. Sanches’ office. He talked to Dr. Sanches once each week after that. After searching for symptoms on the Internet, Jeff had believed that the voice in his head was the start of schizophrenia, and as the weeks progressed, his anxiety grew. After each session, he felt calmer because he had not been given that diagnosis, but the anxiety returned as the date of the next session approached.
Tonight had been a turning point; he had his second session of hypnosis and he wasn’t sure how to tell Emma. How would she react? His biggest fear, he admitted to himself, was that she would take their son and leave. Jeff loved Steven with more love than he knew was possible. Losing him would be worse than what he feared was happening with his head.
A light rapping at the door reminded him of what he needed to do next. He opened it and saw a look of concern on Emma’s face.
“Are things better?” Her question was honest, caring, hopeful.
“I’m not sure. Let’s sit at the table.”
“Would you like some hot tea?”
Jeff smiled. “That’d be great.”
“I’ve already got the hot water; it’ll just take a second.”
They sat facing one another. Jeff sipped his tea and wondered how to start. Emma smiled, but a quiver in her hand betrayed her nerves. “Is it schizophrenia?” She looked down at the table.
“He said no.” Jeff paused. Silence filled the room.
“Then what?” Emma finally asked.
Jeff's eyes got moist, then filled with the tears that finally spilled over onto his face and dripped to the table. “He told me that the voice belongs to a little boy named Jeffie.”
“I don’t understand.” Are you remembering something from when you were a kid? No one ever told me you were called Jeffie.”
“I wasn’t.”
Emma looked into his eyes. “I guess I really don’t understand schizophrenia or what you're talking about..”
“Dr. Sanches has talked to this Jeffie and found out that my Uncle Nathan did horrible things to him. To me. He said when a kid is little and things like that happen, the brain protects them by making another person. That way, the horrible things happen to the new person instead of the kid. Any time Nathan abused me, Jeffie took the abuse so I wouldn’t have to. That’s why I don’t remember it.”
“So you’ve been OK all this time? And now, suddenly?”
“The doctor thinks that Nathan’s death brought Jeffie out. You see, even with all the abuse, Jeffie loved Nathan. I don’t remember any of it. I remember that I have an uncle, and I remember seeing him here and there, but I don’t ever remember talking to him. Dr. Sanches said that any time Nathan would interact with me, he was talking to Jeffie.”
“That’s so weird, Jeff. I don’t understand how that’s even possible.”
Jeff nodded.
“Is there a way to fix it so it doesn’t happen again, I mean like at the funeral, and a way to make the headaches that you’ve been having go away?”
“Dr. Sanches said it may take years to unravel what’s happened. He says a possible solution is to fuse me and Jeffie together, but we need more time and more sessions. What’s scarier to me is that Jeffie told him that Nathan and he played during the family Christmas get together. I don’t even remember seeing him there.”
“What? You let him…”
“Not me, Emma.”
“No,wait, you just said you played with your uncle less than six months ago,” screamed Emma. “You’re a grown man. You let another man fuck you, didn’t you? And you’re trying to blame it on a little kid in your head.” She got up and went into the baby’s room. She came out with the baby, a large bag, and her purse.”
“What are you doing?”
“I told you that if you ever cheated on me, that I was leaving. Fucking your uncle is worse than cheating.
“Please, don’t. Don’t leave. Don’t take Steven. You don’t understand.”
“I’m so glad I didn’t marry you,” Emma screamed at him. “You disgust me. You...you...faggot loser.” She left the apartment.
Jeff stood facing the empty doorway. Unable to move, he heard arguing.
“She doesn’t understand,” said a man with a calm voice.
“She didn’t mean to,” said a woman’s voice. “Give her some time.
“Calm down. Everyone back to your chairs.
“Fuck that!” shouted a deep, slightly gravelly voice. “I’m tired of this shit. Endless days of looking at nothing. And, I liked it when Nathan fucked us. It felt good.”
“Sit down, Roger.” It was the woman’s voice again.
“I want to have some fun. I need some man pussy to fuck, I haven’t had it in a long time, and I aim to get it.”
Jeff felt the room grow grey. A kind of dizziness overtook him as everything went dark.
