Split Pesonality Disorder

Jisung flinched as a loud bang sounded from beyond the closed door. His eyes instinctively snapped to the wood that separated him from the rest of the house. The picked paint created a patch work of white paint and wood. Jisung's gaze remained unblinking, never shifting from the door as loud thumps and other muffled noises continued to echo through the house.

After a few moments, silence reigned over the house. Jisung tensed as not a single sound could be heard. His body trembled with fear while his heart pounded frantically in his chest. His breathing shallowed, the sharp brief inhales were immediaately followed by quick panting exhales. Fear spiked through his body as muffled footsteps tromped towards his bedroom.

Knuckles rasped against his damaged door, shifting the split and cracked parts of the door against each other. Jisung's back became rigid, his muscles poised and tensed as the door opened slowly and a head poked into the room. His legs were curled under his body and his hands were tight fists clenching at the fabric of his shirt, stretching the bottom of it to his knees. He was dressed in only an oversized t-shirt and his boxer. Despite having been awake for hours- despite never falling asleep out of fear for being woken up by his father like he had the previous year when he had dared to allow himself give in to the persuading pull of sleep.

His father stared at him, a large grin stretching across his face as he pushed into the room slowly. Jisung watched him with wary eyes, unable to relax as the man approached him, even without the intent to hurt him. Because Jisung knew. He knew that it was coming. Maybe not now. Maybe not in an hours time. But it was coming, the time when his father would remember his mother and his entire demeanour towards Jisung would change.

"Sungie! Let's go open your presents!" His father reached for him and Jisung instinctively flinched away, almost throwing himself into the wall his bed was pushed up against. A dark look flickered violently in his father's eyes. "Jisung," he growled firmly. It was a command, an order to obey. "There is no need for theatrics."

"Sorry, dad," Jisung whispered shakily. He reached a trembling hand towards his father's outstretched hand and followed him out of the room quietly. They walked down the hallway towards the lounge room where the Christmas tree stood in all of its glory. Apprehension and anxiety mingled with his fear, churning his stomach uneasily. His feet began to drag, his body bulking at the idea of opening presents. His father glanced back and grinned at him before releasing his hand.

"Just let me go get the camera. I will be right back," his words were cheerful and he moved with a bounce in his step as he left the room. Jisung sat on the floor, settling himself beside the tree next to the presents. It was where he was supposed to sit. His body remained stiff, refusing to relax, knowing that the possibility of a peaceful Christmas was never going to happen. For as long as he lived, he knew he would always end up at the mercy of his father's other personality on Christmas day.

The figure that stormed into the room with the camera dangling from his hands was no longer the same father who had left the room. Jisung gulped and curled up in on himself, drawing his knees into his body, watching with fearful eyes as the camera swung dangerously beside the man as he came to an abrupt halt beside the couch that sat adjacent to Jisung.

"It's time to open your presents, my little Sungie."