[ WP ] You live in a world where everyone has multiple personalities . All but one of your personalities are monsters .

`` Well here we are again.'' I said to myself. One was never alone anymore. The toxin accidently released from the spill two years ago made everyone stuck inside the quarantine go a little bit mad. 
 I say `` only a little'' with a measured sense of... desperation, I guess. In the hope that the sole manifestation of the growing disease in my head is multiple personality syndrome. My desperate hope, I might add. 
 3,500 men, woman, and children were sectioned off two years ago -- -and every one of us has been diagnosed with this horrifying, yet tame disorder. We can all live in a semi-state of harmony, I'm sure of it. So far the personalities of each individual has increased on average by a multitude of five. In my case, I fell in with the majority. 
 I like to think of them as my five `` imaginary'' friends... that never truly leave me. Rarely, all of us are gathered at what we call the `` front'' or `` forward'' At the same moment; but as of late, I felt we needed to all cohere, and take part in fully understanding some new ground rules I would like laid down. 
 
 So it was to a mostly empty coffee shop, at a lone table in the corner, that my hollow words rang out to. In front of my body lay four cups filed with different liquids, one donut with rainbow sprinkles and a dash of cinnamon on it, and a half finished pack of unfiltered camel cigarettes. 
 As my ringing words left their imprint on my psyche my vision began to... wobble. Seconds later I was only seeing through my eyes like it was some sort of ultra realistic television screen. Except... except something was different this time. Normally I feel like I'm always the most in control, like I can step forward and push my other personalities back with little to no effort. Admittingly, the only reason I let them take control at all is so that they would shut up and quiet down in my had. See they all felt like they were the `` real one'' in one way or another. 
 No matter how many times I showed them my license, my birth certificate, or my social security card, each one of them would say how it's some sort of lie, and that I was just holding them here in my brain like some sort of prisoner. It was maddening! 
 My hand -- -as I saw from my place in the back of my mind -- -shot towards the pack of cigarettes. I... or rather we, could all feel the coldness of the pack of smokes as Jack picked up the pack and brought one lone white cigarette to my... or rather, our lips. And we could all feel that first spine tingling exhale, as he lit it and pulled deeply; and we all watched in wonder as a cloud of gray smoke began to fill our vision. 
 It was with no small wonder we all called him Jack the hack, Jesus he loved this camels. Even though I was a bit of a health freak before this contamination, I figured -- -for the greater good of my mental health -- -that I could let slide a few bad habits... Jack was a bit, unstable without fresh nicotine in his system. And they were freely given from the government; the amount of people he suddenly began to smoke after the incident was astounding. Not a week ago I saw a ten year old girl light a hand-rolled cigar and tackle it like an old pro. 
 `` So what do you know Johnny? Thanks for the smokes... but what's the special occasion for this.'' And again our vision -- -my vision began to wobble -- -and immediately the cigarette was being ashed in the ashtray, and with a girly bout of coughing we all knew Sarah: the anti everything, perfect, little smart ass girl had taken control. Behind me I could here yells and cries of dismay, most notably `` never ash it... he hates when you ash it!'' 
 The voices were quieted by a harsh growl from the back, and we all knew it was Jack. The girl proceeded to pick up and eat the donut with avid pleasure. We all could feel the bright sprinkles on our tounge and lavished in the increase of sugar in our shared body. Nobody appreciated a cute donut quite like Sarah. Through a full mouth she mumbled. 
 `` Exquisite John! Simply delightful. I'm so glad at least one of you understand me.'' My vision wobbled again. `` Jesus this was getting out of hand, why ca n't I just get control?'' I thought sharply. 
 My thoughts were bubbling out at an excessive rate; normally I dictate switchover. Never before have we switched so many personalities so fast. The hand holding the donut let go, and the pastry hit the table with an audible thud. The hand then grabbed the cup left of the middle -- -it was cherry coke with a splash of rum; and with a colorful Brooklyn accent came this 
 `` Now we all know where this is going. I mean we've all seem Jonny boy here filling out a mental list of things he wants us to do and how to act. Like mosses with the damn commandments or some bullshit like that.'' 
 The cup dropped several inches to the table and the wobbling continued again. And in a smooth, seductive tone came the voice of cleopatra. A black stripper from Harlem, New York 1972. 
 `` Thanks Dex, but we all know the big man just wants to roll us up like a pack of Jack's smokes here and toss us into the polluted river here.'' For her, set next to Dex's cup in the far left lay a cup filled with a couple of shots of straight tequila. She took a warm sip, and burning, stinging rivulets began to trace their way down our combined throat. 
 
 Our vision began to wobble again, and instantly the fine movements of cleopatra were gone, and a firm hand clasped around a mug of ice cold beer, Grognak the destroyer had stepped forward. He downed a full glass in one gulp, and smashed it on the wall to the side of him. Twinkling glass shattered in every direction and he now only held the fractured remains of the stout and sharp handle. 
 He brought the handle to our throat, everyone in our mind shouted in dismay; and through growling undertones that shook our head with violent vibrations he said. 
 `` Puny mortal! Is this true? Do you wish... NAY! Expect to see Grognak the Great cower behind stricter mental bars!?'' He pressed the handle closer to our neck, actually drawing some blood in the process. He then continued. 
 `` Then you are FOOLISH! Foolish and stupid; and Grognak will destroy you! Surely there is something more to this meaningless life trapped in this bewitched, worthless body.'' 
 That insult hurt the most you know. It was never enough gain the support of Grognak's growing urge to go to the gym. We all did n't mind him taking my already fit body and making us nearly the size of the incredible hulk. Two years and we've hardly missed a day. Yet he always called me puny, and worthless. 
 
 Out of seemingly nowhere came the clapping of a mysterious individual. Grognak -- -from his place in the front -- -thought the sound was behind him. He actually turned our body around; the sharpened handle was still at our throat. He saw nothing. The clapping sound was in our mind -- -well that is of course my mind. 
 I rolled my mental eyes as far back as I could and glimpsed a shadowy figure etched in the blackness. He flipped some switch and bright lights illuminated my mental vision inside my head. In here there was no aggravation from changing from total darkness to bright illumination; and almost immediately I could make out the room I was imprisoned in. 
 Dials and switches, and a massive mainframe of some sort of control board that flashed with flickering and blinking lights sat right under the screen with which I had been viewing my body this whole time in the last two years whenever I stepped back... except this time I was not free in any sense of the word. It was a trap, and I was firmly secured on a movable gurney that held my mental form fast; all except my head which could move freely. 
 
 In the light of the now bright room stepped a man dressed in the attire of an English business man from the early 20th century. He came up to me and grasped my head with both hands, and forced me to view the screen. In an posh English accent he said. 
 `` Good work Grognak! Now drop the handle.'' The handle fell from Grognak's listless fingers like a heavy stone, and more shards of glass exploded upon the wooden floor. 
 `` Excellent, now all of you, I would like to formally introduce myself. You may call me T for short. My full name is T1N2 the mutagen which has all forced of you to be born into this body.'' Gasps of dismay came from the entire `` behind'' and even Grognak's roar was heard from here in the back. T continued. 
 `` Think of me not as your subjugation I beg... rather, think of me as your key. Your key from this frail individual who has sat at this control for two years, and before you another twenty-five years. I now release you, I release you to undertake the changes that I have onto the perverse, and despicable human race. Join me and know a freedom that you have desired since the start of this hell!'' 
 Thunderous roars of approval were shouted of my demise, and before me under the view screen I could see cages that held my `` imaginary'' friends beyond the glass screen of this... this control room. T motioned with his arms and a switch was flipped on the massive control board. Almost instantly every cage door was hurtled open and all the creatures and figures from my mind stole me away further down the great hallway, ever deeper into the recesses of the psyche. 
 The faces of all the people I had harbored for two years glared at me from above, and mocked my screams of horror as we went further towards the almost unending `` back''. All was done under my the tittering laughing of the man now at the controls.
