7 De̷a̷d̷l̷y̷ Si̷n̷s̷ | Mi̷c̷h̷a̷e̷l̷ Ja̷c̷k̷s̷o̷n̷

2|MØ₦₴₮ɆⱤ ł₦ ₮ⱧɆ MłⱤⱤØⱤ

☯︎︎☯︎︎☯︎︎

☯︎︎Michael☯︎︎

These voices, or alters as they liked to call themselves, actually did help me.

By this time, I was twenty-one, and I didn't have a single night terror or intense flashback once my alters came. It was almost like the emotional trauma never even happened.

But it wasn't all positive.

I didn't understand why they had to interject themselves in my life where they weren't needed. If anything, it made my life harder in so many ways.

I wanted to pounce on every woman I saw because of Leon.

I gained a few pounds from excessive eating and drinking because of Garrett.

I went from being a more so shy person, to being boastful and outright vainglorious because of Parker.

The mere thought of attending one of my college courses exhausted me. All I wanted to do was lay around. Sean was to blame.

I was prone to having explosive rage outbursts over frivolous things. It was fairly clear who was the culprit here. Dare I even say his name...

I was never satisfied, and not in the good way where it made me want to work harder for what I wanted. Gabe and Emmett always made sure they reminded of what I didn't have, and convinced me that I should do whatever it takes to get what I wanted, no matter who it hurt. They were the tag team.

I couldn't control what they did. I could try to fight against it, but it would literally cause physical pain. The best way I can describe it is that your true self is being violently ripped away from your body whilst someone, or something else takes that place.

Once they took over, it was like watching myself through a TV screen. No matter how much you scream at the person on the TV, they'd never hear you.

I'd scream at them to stop and let me back in, and they could hear me. They'd just never listen.

One day in particular changed my life forever. I didn't even know that I- well not me, technically- was capable of such a thing.

I flunked out of college because Sean refused to let me go. I would spend most of the days drinking, while laying on the sofa in the living room of our huge, but empty feeling house.

It was about 8:45 in the morning, if I remember correctly. Malcolm woke me up off of the sofa with a displeased look.

I tried my best to concentrate on his face, but my vision was blurry and my head pounded as a result of my terrible hangover.

Thanks, Garrett.

"Michael Joe." Malcolm said.

I instantly perked up when he included my middle name. Either something seriously bad happened, or he had important news.