[ WP ] You always were a coward .

**'' You were always a coward. Do n't you dare forget it. This IS you. Embrace it and listen to me. You will obey or face the music. Refer to the manual as and when needed. I love you. `` ** 
 
 I looked at the dead body in the trunk. It was the 5th time this happened. Every time she had killed, she'd leave me to deal with the mess to hide, dispose, make it go away. In a way, she WAS helping me. Almost all the victims were my high school bullies - Willie, Bobby, Chuckie, and today, Rocky. Except the 2nd one, Connie. She was this girl that was more of a bitch than a bully. She called me a pussy because I did n't fight my bullies, in front of this other girl I was asking out for a date. I did n't get that date, or any other date. I made my peace with it. 
 
 Until, my new friend entered the picture, or at least I thought she was a friend. I saw her as someone who'd make things better. I did n't even realize when she became this crazy person. I did n't mind the choice of her victims so much as her acts. Torturing them, killing them was inhumane. I'd understand kicking someone's ass in the name of justice, breaking bones even. But taking someone's life was n't fair. But what could I do? I was afraid of her. Someone so organized, that she prepared a manual of instructions for me to follow in case I got nervous and forgot the proper steps I am to take. She did n't hold back from laying it all out in front of me, what she'll do to me if I did n't co-operate, at the same time, reassuring me that it was all for my own good. That if there was one person in the world who loved me, it was her. 
 
 I tried getting rid of her after she killed Chuckie. Its hard asking for anyone's help when you ca n't tell anyone about what she has done. And in all fairness, how do you trust someone else when the last person you trusted left you with dead bodies? I read all sorts of things at online forums. I consulted random strangers in various chat rooms. I even went to a therapist secretly, to try and grasp a basic idea of how to use some mind games to get her off my back. But with the extremely little information I was willing to share, the therapist only got confused and prescribed me pills to help me relax and sleep. 
 
 The thing with being a coward is, even if you KNOW what to do, you do n't do it. And I know I'm screwed because I do n't even know what to do. Every night before I go to bed, I have this sinking feeling. I'm going to die like this, a coward. No matter what you might argue about future with quotes of optimism, no matter what they might say about surviving despite the messed up odds, no matter what anyone might say about treatable dissociative identity disorders, my friend Pussy is not leaving my coward head, ever.
