Vera Reinhart,

Make sure you take your medication regularly and daily. I trust you to take it responsibly. These are very dangerous and serious drugs. Please do not share information on your medication with anyone else to make sure that they don't misuse them.

Thank you.

See you soon!
Dr. Carol Jasper

I ran and didn't look back.

Everything that Jordan told me made no sense. It was all crazy. He was crazy. Not me.

So many things had happened, so many things that I hated, that I wanted to forget. This couldn't be added to the list too. Wasn't my life messed up enough?

Jason's death was the worst thing that had ever happened. The fact that I killed him doubled it. But then Secret Keeper reached out and I had realized that there could be something worse. And then Jordan told me that he killed Jason and I thought that maybe things were better than they seemed. That I didn't kill Jason so things would return back to normal. But then, after what Jordan had just told me, I was thrown back into the well of darkness with no end in sight. I couldn't see the daylight at the top. There was no way back up.

That's why its impossible. Life couldn't be that cruel, right?

And besides, that meant that my parents had lied to me. They went through my entire life lying to me in the eye and telling me nothing of a complete other world that existed inside me. They never told me of the other side of me that controlled me as much as I did. That was heartbreaking. My parents were the one stable thing I could rely on, the only two people in the world that I could truly trust no matter what. They were never-changing, always the beautiful, happy, couple that loved me honestly and unconditionally. They weren't supposed to lie to me. And now I was told that it was what they had been doing all these years.

It didn't make sense.

Huffing, I ran up my long driveway and to the front door of my house. Golden lights shone through the windows, tinting the green grass. The sun was starting to dip over the horizon as I entered the doorway.

I leaned back against the closed door and took a deep breath.

It was all a lie. Jordan was just messing with me. There's nothing wrong with you.

Your parents never lied to you.

It wasn't until my mother's voice rung through the house that I realized it was completely silent.

"Yes, okay," she said into the phone. "We'll talk to her."

The phone beeped as she hung up and dropped it onto the counter. Uneasiness filled me as I slowly made my way down the hall. I turned the corner to find my parents standing in the kitchen in silence, expressions grim. My dad looked up and his eyes locked onto mine. The eyes that were almost identical to mine were unreadable.

"Vincent, go to your room," he ordered, eyes never leaving mine. Vincent carefully picked up his lego structure and slipped into the hall.

The three of us stood in perfect silence, unsure of what to do. Trying to see if someone else would make a move first. It was my mother who broke the silence.

"Jordan just called," she started, carefully. "He said he told you some things."

My mom let the statement hang in the air as they both looked at me, trying to gauge my reaction. I gave away nothing as it stayed still in a poker face, keeping my mouth shut. I didn't know what to say. Or at least, I didn't want to say it.

Finally, I mustered up the courage to ask, "Is it true?"

I didn't want to know the answer. I didn't want to know if what Jordan had said was right. But at the same time, I wanted to know. I wanted to know if there was a foreign part of me. I wanted to know the truth.

"Yes," my mother whispered.

For a moment I did nothing. I just stood there. Then, I started to truly register her words.

"How could you?" I asked. My vision was starting to get blurry as my world started to spin. "How could you lie to me?"

"Vera, we had no choice-"

"No!" I shouted, instantly furious. "You always have a choice!"

"Vera!" My father shouted in alarm as the world started to spin even more. They tried to move around the counter to help me but I held up a hand, "I'm fine."

I climbed into a stool on the other side of the counter facing them. They stood still, unsure of what to do.

"How could you lie to me my entire life?" I asked again.

"It wasn't your entire life," my father tried to reason. "You didn't develop it until you were six, maybe a little older."

"Even then! You could've told me that I had it. You should've told me that I had it!"

"It was a very minor case, Vera," she said. "Not very prominent. You weren't having as many switches as the other cases, very few and only when you experienced something truly upsetting or harrowing. At other times-"

"That doesn't matter! I have the right to know that I have another fucking personality!"

They ignored the fact that I had cursed in front of them as my mother continued, "I know. We're sorry. But there was a chance that maybe not knowing would help you move on and experience less switches into your alter."

"That doesn't-"

"It was a mistake," she pressed on. "It was wrong to think that lying could help you. We're sorry."

My mother's statement hung in the air as my mind reeled, processing all of the new information. Then a thought struck hard as fear tore through me.

"Does Vincent have it too?"

"No," my dad answered without hesitating. "It's not genetic as far as we know. Most people only get it because of a traumatic experience."

"A traumatic experience?" I asked. "Did I have a traumatic experience?"

My parents shared a look, hesitating.

"You better not lie to me," I told them.

My dad turned back to me. "Yes, you did."

I leaned back in my chair. "What happened?"

"You were kidnapped."

"What?!"

My mom nodded in confirmation as she avoided my gaze.

"Kidnapped? I-" I tried to process my words. "Why?"

My dad blinked. "For money."

"How?"

My mom hesitated before starting, "You were six..."

I looked around the dark room, eyes wide with fear. The moonlight spilled through the windows giving the place an eerie glow. I tried to find what had made me wake up so suddenly, but found nothing. I couldn't make out anything in the shadows.

And then I saw the man.

I turned to the shadowy movement, and found no one. But I had just saw him.

"Hello?" I asked, my voice small.

Nothing answered. Nothing moved.

Eventually, my eyes started feeling heavy and I closed them, drifting off back to sleep.

And then I heard it.

Breathing.

Deep, slow breathing. Breathing that didn't belong to me.

My eyes snapped open to find a strange man looking down at me, one that I didn't recognize. I tried to scream but he placed a cloth tightly against my mouth. I kicked and writhed, but to no avail. I took deep breaths, trying to gather more energy in my struggle. The cloth smelled of chemicals.

It was too late when I realized that the cloth was putting me back to sleep. I had already breathed too much of it. My movements became sluggish and the man took the opportunity to carefully hoist me out of my bed and into his arms. He dragged me to the window and the world seemed to blur together, the night turning into a mirage of blue and black. My screams now came out as small whimpers.

I tried to stay awake, but I couldn't. My eyes were already starting to close.

The man threw me out of the window and into the arms of two other waiting men. They dragged me across the yard and my vision blurred further, tinting in black. I begged for them to stop, to let me go, but none of them listened.

The other man strode up beside me and mumbled a few words, words that I had only been able to properly hear in the nightmares that haunted me years later.

What I could remember was the light stubble of his beard, brown curly hair swaying in the wind, a knife glinting at his belt, a golden ring with a circle on his finger. His eyes were brown, almost identical to my own. I shivered.

They threw me into the back of a car. Everything went black.

"The police were able to track the car that had been in front of our property that night," my mother continued. "They had you locked up in some sort of abandoned cabin on the mountainside. They tried to engage and shoot the man, but he still got away. He was able to bind you and trap you in the back seat of the car as he drove off. The police caught up and there was a car chase. He got away once in the middle but the police found him again when he was trying to steal a new car. He shoved you into the front seat this time. They chased him again, but after a while, the man seemed to have realized that he wasn't going to win. So he-" my mom broke off and sobbed.

"He threw you out of the moving car," my dad finished for her.

"What?" I asked. I was thrown out of a moving car?

My dad nodded and continued the story, "You hit the ground hard and nearly got ran over by one of the police cars. You were stuck in a coma for almost a week after that."

"Oh my god," I said as I tried to imagine my six-year-old self stuck in a coma. I couldn't imagine it. I couldn't even remember it. Any of it.

"What happened to the kidnapper?"

"The police tried to continue their chase but they fell too far behind when they tried to avoid you. He got away. They never found him again."

"H-How?" I questioned. "How does he just disappear off the map like that? Wouldn't they find clues about him and where he could go?"

"They could. If they knew who he was."

"They didn't...?"

My dad shook his head. "He wore a mask."

"Who could've possibly done all of this?"

My dad hesitated. "I don't know."

"Jesus Christ." I placed my head in my hands.

"That's how you got DID," my mom said. "Your brain couldn't handle the traumatic experience so it pushed it away into a different personality. That's why, whenever something bad happens, you switch into your alter so that you no longer have to face the memory or trauma of the event. You only got a mild case because the trauma wasn't repeated, but... it was enough."

I rubbed my forehead. "You still should've told me."

"It was for your own good," my father said.

"No, it wasn't!" I shouted back. "It was for yours! So that you didn't have to deal with this mess!"

"No, Vera, we-"

"Don't lie to me!" I shouted, stumbling off of the stool. "You guys already lied to me about everything, about all of this! Is my medication even for anxiety?!"

"Yes!" My mother responded desperately. "It was for anxiety caused by the DID."

I stumbled back. "I can't believe this. Everything was a lie."

"No, Vera," my parents stepped towards me. "Please just listen..."

"No," I told them. "I don't want to listen to your lies anymore."

I spun and ran for the door.

"Vera!" my father called. But I didn't listen.

I ran and didn't look back.

Vera: Vote if you know someone with a mental disorder. And then go show them your love.