“Write it down,” Damian cooed.
Hannah shook her head. “No, it’s not right.”
“It’s the truth.” Rhea had joined in on the argument. “Just write down these words exactly: ‘They were fucked up and numb.’ After all, we are.”
“No you’re not.” Hannah turned away from the computer screen and balled her fingers into fists, refusing to obey the orders of her two internal voices. The north wall of her room was lined in drawing of the two of them. How had the characters in her story changed so much?
Before, Damian had been a vision of innocents while Rhea had stood in the forefront of Hannah’s social imagination. Now, all he wanted was sex and all she wanted was a means to her own end. When had her vision of literary genius turned?
“Why won’t you be true to us, Hannah? You try to make me happy and content. And you wish that Damian wasn’t so horny. But it’s who we are. If you don’t write those words, then you’ll be lying to yourself and everyone else.” Rhea's voice softened, pleading for Hannah's compliance, something so uncharacteristic of herself that it shocked all three of them.
“She’s right, and by the way Rhea, its very sexy when you beg,” Damian purred.
“Jesus Christ, Dame, how many times have I told you that I will never sleep with you?” All the while, she enjoyed the attention that she received in being pursued.
“At least that hasn’t changed,” Hannah stood up and crawled over to her bed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rhea snapped angrily.
“It means, that you wouldn’t have slept with him when I created you and you still won’t sleep with him.” She eased herself into bed, tired and finger-sore.
Damian snapped in reply. “You think that you’re the reason we exist. Rhea and I exist beyond you. We have life, and meaning that you will never decide for us. When you write our stories down, you should be telling our truths, not fabricating falsities. We’re human, we have flaws. Skeletons are collecting dust in our closets.”
“At this point you two, I could care less. This is my story and I’ll tell it the way it is. I could very easily delete everything on that computer and start over from scratch without either of you. It would be better than listening to this every night.” Hannah closed her eyes and pulled the covers around herself even tighter, wishing that she could have a single night of silent sleep, devoid of their constant bickering.
“You think it will be that easy to get rid of us. I honestly thought you were smarter than that,” Rhea scoffed then turned her attention away. Tugging her shirt down and her skirt up, she addressed Damien. “On second thought, I think I changed my mind. Why don’t we go into Hannah’s frontal lobe and…talk?”
“Fine, I’ll write it. Just, don’t do anything that I’ll have to remember.” Hannah groaned and eased herself up out of bed, running a hand through her short black hair and regretting every word she had ever typed. The voices in her head were running her life and destroying her story. She couldn’t have that, could she?
“Yes you can.” Damian replied.
“You heard that.”
“I don’t know if you’re just too dense to understand, but we are a part of you. You can’t get rid of us. Now write it.” Rhea cooed and began to tempt Damian again, pulling her long blond hair way from her face and smiling sweetly.
Damian looked back and eyed her, bouncing on the tops of his toes. “Oh boy, oh boy.”
“NO!” She shook the mouse on her computer and shied away when the blinding white background. “Please, don’t do anything. Here see.” And she worked her finger over the keyboard slowly, feeling remorse in every letter.
“See, doesn’t that feel better?” Rhea purred.
“I guess.”
Damian looked around anxiously. “So, can we go and fuck?”
.