Lucas Allen is a teenage boy with a rare mental illness called DID. After the death of his father, he's forced to move in with his aunt and her family. That includes his cousin Gar. While he is living with them he falls into the hands of Doctor Nile...
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I don't understand why I have to be here. I don't get why I have to come to a therapist to tell me why I have memory loss. I hate coming to therapy. My stupid aunt and fake uncle have been making me go for a month now. Ever since they found me and got custody they have been finding any reason to get me out of the house.
I don't understand why. You would think they would want to keep me in the house because whenever I'm out I run away and do some shit I can't remember. Apparently, I was missing for a year before I got arrested. Don't remember that at all but whatever.
Now I'm sitting in my therapist's office. With my aunt sitting to my left and my uncle sitting to my right. I'm in the middle. Probably so I can't run away. I wish I could run away or jump out of the window behind the stupid therapist woman. I don't remember her name and I don't care enough to ask. I've only talked to her a few times but she acts like we talk all the time. Maybe she's crazy.
All these sessions have been one huge blur for me. This whole month has. I don't understand why I black out so much. I always thought I passed out but apparently, I'm functioning while I'm unconscious.
"So why did you call us here? Did you figure something out?" My aunt asked.
We are related. She was my mom's sister. My uncle is her husband. I hate him and he hates me. I don't know why I haven't done shit to him but whatever. My aunt told me that my therapist told her that I have issues with male authority figures. I have no idea what that means.
I tapped my fingers against my thigh as I looked around the room nervously. I have no idea why I'm here or why my "family" is here with me. I thought they couldn't be in my sessions. I don't know. I don't understand how this shit works.
"I believe that Lucas has dissociative identity disorder," the therapist stated.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"It's a personality disorder. Means you have multiple personalities," she vaguely explained.
"Like in that movie with the fucking serial killer that kidnaps all those girls?" I laughed just thinking about it, I'm not a psychopath like that guy. I'm fucking 14.
"Yes, like that, Lucas but that's not an accurate representation," she said.
"How is that possible?" My aunt asked.
"Usually it's a reaction to a traumatic event or abuse during childhood," the therapist answered. "It's sort of like a defensive mechanism," she added.
I tensed as she said that. I don't understand this. I don't have multiple personalities. I'm not crazy. And it's not because of my fucking dad abusing me. I'm better than that. There's something else wrong with me.
"I don't understand how you came to this conclusion," my aunt said.
"Well Lucas checks off many symptoms of DID," she said.
