98. A Personality Defect
“Can’t you talk things out with.. your beast?” I ask, trying to grasp the complexity of his condition.
“He doesn’t listen to me.” He admits, a note of resignation in his voice. “I have made him too powerful.”
“But you created him, so you can control him, right?” I tell him, trying to light a path in his dark world.
“That’s not how it works, Emara.” Dakota takes a deep breath, and I feel his warm chest pressing into my spine.
“I have split personality disorder. There is someone else living inside me, a personality that is different from me, who has his own thoughts and desires.” He explains to me, his breathing heavy with emotions.
“My mind.. It hallucinates another voice in my head, dictating me, ordering me to do things as he wishes. We two are not the same. There is always a cold war going on between us, fighting over who controls my life.” He explains lucidly.
“But he is a part of you, born from your past trauma, right?” I try to reason with him.
“Only you can truly understand and restrain him. Listen to him. Talk to him.” I insist, clinging to the belief that there must be a way for him to regain his power.
“I have tried everything, Emara. Counseling, therapy, medication.” Dakota retorts, his voice itching with frustration as he says, “He is beyond control. Pills can subdue him temporarily, but in my weakest moments, he still overpowers me.”
I feel his heart thudding rapidly through me, hard and fast, emphasizing the gravity of his situation. *If pills can’t control him, then what else could?*
“It always happens when you are around.” He whispers almost inaudibly.
“Me?” I ask him shockingly, feeling him nod in response.
“He thinks he won you in the fights. And he owns you.” He reveals, and the room falls into a heavy silence as I recall his words..
*‘You were mine from the start. You were mine the moment I bet on you.’*
He sounded possessed, almost inhuman at that time.
“Xavier was right, I shouldn’t have dragged you into my hell.” Dakota admits, his voice laced with a disturbed edge of guilt.
“I thought maybe if I give in to him and let him do whatever he wants, my other side could finally heal. But.. Fuck!” He exhales, sounding utterly tormented.
“I feel even more fucked up now, and I am afraid I have hurt you worse, to the point where you might never want to see me again.” He hugs me even tighter, sadder, and buries his face in the crook of my neck.
Memories of his brutality floods in my head and my heart pounds heavily, as I recall the humiliation and pain he has inflicted upon me.
“You should have told me, before the first night.” I tell him, chucking those memories aside like a bad dream.
Now isn’t the time to dwell on what he did or blame him, but to find a way to prevent any more damage.
“I couldn’t.” Dakota whispers, and I feel him shaking his head.
“I am not like a Disney Beast, who will turn into a Prince after a kiss. I’ll still be a Beast, a vicious, unstable one. And dangerous. For anyone.” His voice takes on a darker, more deeper tone. Like a warning.
“At least you could have given a hint, the Beauty could have found a way to help you.” I whisper softly, not wanting to trigger him.
“How the Beauty could help me?” Dakota asks me almost dejectedly, like he has already given up on everything.
I slowly turn around to face him and this time, he let’s me.
Green eyes which are always full of fire, and for the first time, I see them staring at me vulnerably, almost defeatedly. I see no light of hope in them, just a deep sadness that somehow pains me.
He seems so irreparably broken and a good part of me wants to bandage him together.
I lick my lips, before asking him, “Do you want..”
“Emara!” Dakota takes a sharp breath and closes his eyes for a brief second, before he growls. “I DO NOT WANT SEX!” He snaps, his eyes staring at me with so much incense, scaring my little soul with his sudden outburst.
“Hug..” I whisper softly.
My heart is thrashing wildly in my chest, frightened at the way his intense stone-cutting gaze narrows down at me as I murmur, “I was going to ask if you want.. a.. hug, maybe.”
My voice tiny like the hope I am carrying. Despite his unpredictable side, yet slowly, anxiously, I open my arms as a peace offering.
Suddenly, I watch deep sea-green eyes widen and flicker with a storm of emotions, as if he couldn’t believe himself. Slowly, his hardened expression softens, and his shoulders slump down, signaling a crack in his armour.
It’s as if the walls he has built around himself are starting to crumbling down, brick by brick.
Dakota leans in towards me..
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