I do not own DGM or any of it's wonderful characters... *Cries*
It was funny.
I felt the safest with a gun pointed at my head.
All be it, it was my twin brother that pointed it at me, but it was still a gun and it was still pointed at my head. And it was that way I knew everything would be okay. Because that way I knew I had my twin next to me and we both had the most powerful of the Noah -in my opinion- at just a squeeze of our fingers.
We're Safe.
But I remember a time when we weren't safe. When we were an I. our forehead burned and our body felt like it was on fire. Mother was crying, the doctor couldn't do anything to stop the bleeding. Apparently our pathetic human body was dying.
We were bleeding from everywhere and it felt like we were being ripped in two. On the odd occasion we could hear two voices in our one head, yelling at each other. One was us and the other a stranger... which was the stranger depended on who you ask. For me, the stranger had an annoying habit of putting a 'HEE!' on the end of most of his sentences. For Dero, the stranger was a bit on the moody side.
About a week after the pain started our hair split. It had been a nice hazelnut brown but one morning our mother came in and it had changed, the top was a blacky-blue colour and swirled around our face to meet up with a yellow blond that went down to out calves. It had grown about a meter in length over night.
We still bled. Our nose, our mouth, places where there were no cuts but the blood just seeped through our skin.
Then one day it all just stopped. We got better. Mother had come in and seen us, a huge smile over our face and when she saw us smiling again she was so happy. We were 7 years old then. We got up and mother helped our human body into the kitchen where she made us breakfast. She was surprised at how much we ate.
"Wow kiddo! Eating for two are you?" she laughed like it was a joke. And for some reason we found the answer was yes... we were one body... but there were two voices... two people.
The two of us were revealed to her when we were playing. She was so happy we were well that she decided to play with us. We had a big truck and she was playing as a small chicken figurine. She made a 'cluck' noise as the truck sped toward her, only to stop.
"HEE! No! Not the chicky!" the truck went to turn away but was ripped around again, a different voice speaking "die you stupid bird!" and the chicken was run over. Then one of our eyes started leaking. Like we were crying, but only one side could mourn the loss of the toy chicken.
Mother had called the doctor again, he had looked us over. Our forehead was still bleeding but had slowed significantly. Other than that the doctor had gotten a punch for putting his hands on us. We were diagnosed with split personalities.
We talked a lot, having convocations with our voices. One would complain about something and the other would either agree or try to be optimistic. We developed memories of things that never happened, like the voices had a life and had lived it a while ago. Emotions and love for a family that didn't exist.
Our mother was slowly being driven mad but our voices. One was overly friendly and easy to set off crying and as soon as it started crying the other voice would swing into action, defending it. One voice was higher than the other. They sounded like completely different people.
They were completely different people.
It was a few days later that we had found fathers old gun. It was a pretty thing. Gold and shiny, slightly on the small side for an adult but we were only 7 then so it looked far too big on our tiny body.
We decided to play police, running into the lounge and pointing the gun at mother and yelling "HEE! Freeze! Keep your hands were we can see them!" she did as she was told, but not for the game... out of fear...
Our voices went to change, but in the small spasm we have when it happens, the trigger was pulled. The bullet hit her hand, but instead of a hole and lots of blood like there should have been, her hand was covered in a thick sheen of ice.
'Freeze'
After that mother really went crazy. She had tried to work out what we had done, only to shoot herself in the hand more than once. Her mind left her an empty shell. We never noticed; we were too busy learning about our new voices.
That day we were playing happily in the game room, one of us was a beautiful princess and the other a daring prince. "HEE! Save me! Save me prince Devi!"
"Do not worry fair princess Dero! I will save you!"
We had given ourselves names. Our body's name was Jasdevi, so we split it. The higher and more used of the voices was given the title 'Jasdero' and the lower grumpier one was 'Devitto'. Occasionally the two voices even spoke at once. That was Jasdevi.
Together we were Jasdevi.
We tackled ourself to the ground and rolled on the floor laughing, our voices switching to take turns in the giggling fit. Our laughing was stopped by the door opening, our mother standing there, her face blank.
"Your too loud" she whispered "Time to be silent"
She then pinned us down and pulled out her needle and what looked to be a kind of black wire. Devitto yelled at her for a while as she threaded the needle, but as she brought it closer to our face, the voices switched, Jasdero, the more emotional one of the two started to plead to her. Her eyes were empty. She was gone.
Jasdero was silenced by the black wire that stitched into his face. He cried silently, whimpering in pain, but he couldn't yell, he couldn't move. He was too scared. He wouldn't even let the other voice talk.
"There we are Jas... now you can be quite, no-one will ever hear your voices again" Mother nodded "It's okay now. It will all get better now" Then she left. She left Dero whimpering and bleeding out on the floor.
After that it was only ever Dero that played in the body. Devi was still there; he was just pressed down, not allowed out by our other personality. Like somehow with only Dero on the outside, Devi would be okay on the inside.
He couldn't have been more right.
Our forehead started bleeding again, worse than before. We wanted to scream but we couldn't. Dero couldn't, and he still refused to let Devi out, protecting him from the pain of being silenced.
Mother had come in to see us, talking lifelessly about how everything was going to be okay. It was a day when she came to visit that we finally snapped.
"Hello my baby boy. How are you today, Jasdevi? Well I hope? Good. It's because you're quiet now. God can see that you're a good boy and listen well. God loves you. I love you. I love you so much"
With that, our body began to shake. The pain was incredible. The only scream we could get out was a high pitched "Mph!" from the back of our throat.
Mother stood up and backed away, as if she could see something we couldn't. And that was true, we couldn't see our body but it had begun to divide, the blond hair going one way and the black hair the other. One last thing that didn't match on the bodies was the wire. It stuck to the blond boy.
We were Jasdero and Devitto.
We bled from every place possible, crying tears of blood, coughing it up and having it run from our nose. And our forehead claimed what looked to be a tattoo in a line of diamonds running across our heads. Our skin had turned a deathly grey colour.
We were two. Not an I, not a split personality in one pathetic human body. No. We were two people. We were brothers.
There was one more thing that split when we did. Under our pillow was dad's old gun. We had been holding it and as our body had been ripped at the seams and the gun had split into two with us, one with Jasdero and the other with me, Devitto.
Mother had run, to scared of us to stick around. Scared of her child. And after a while we could finally move again without starting up the bleeding again. I got rid of the wire around my twin's mouth. But he replaced it later with elastic that still allowed him to open his mouth. He thought it looked cool. We learned how to use our guns and eventually how to turn back into Jasdevi.
We were taken in by a family that were just like us. We remembered them, but we weren't sure why. Our memory told us who they were even though we hadn't a clue. We were told about the Noah's and how we had been chosen by god. God had favoured us as his true apostles. And those who called themselves exorcists were trying to hurt us. To take us away from each other
We would never let anyone take us away. We had to be together, always. So we decided to protect each other from all the exorcists. One at a time.
The guns we have are what keep us safe. And with a gun each, pointed at each other's head, we protected each other with a passion. Just a shot away from being what we were. One.
We both remember the feeling of being pulled apart, our bones and skin stretching and breaking to form to beings. We remember how through the pain we had heard a voice, one that wasn't a personality. One that should have been there. It had said something that we have always acted upon, never making an acceptation for anyone.
"You cannot trust anyone. Only yourselves. You are all you have now"
Well, I know it probably isn't all that accurate, but it's how I could see it all going down, and I hope you enjoyed it anyway. It's slightly more serious than my last story (a lot more serious) and it's hopefully written a little better as well *Fingers crossed*. I'm sorry if any parts were hard to follow and for any spelling or grammar mistakes (I know they were there), but if you spot one then tell me and I'll fix it as fast as I can! Promise!
As always, reviews make me feel warm and tingly inside (in the most un-suggestive way possible). Even if it's just to yell at me about how badly Jasdevi were out of character, I don't mind.
XXXX Andy.