THE NIGHT BEFORE:

It is bedtime and I sit on my bed. The thoughts bouncing around in my head could make anyone cry. That bitch boy Mark has no idea what's really going on. He's left, vacated the premises if you will. I grin to myself, laughing. He's so pathetic it's insane. He's got this routine, this boring ass way of making people happy. Making people happy is for fucking losers. I cannot believe the shit he spews from his mouth. Friendship and love and fucking rainbows. I can't handle it.

It's finally my time again. I can be let loose on the world without bitch boy whining in my head. Without the constant need to help someone. I hate helping people. I'd rather see them die at the hand of the fucking loser than anything else. Oh Marki, please… be careful what you do. I'd hate to be this far in and drop the ball.

I stand, feeling the power surge over me. Mark is strong, I will give him that. He keeps our body well-tuned. I flex my muscle and smirk. This new muscle he's been getting has come in handy more often than I expected. Thinking of the things that I could do to hurt Mark the most, I decide on calling Jack. Jack is some kind of sick twisted thought of Marks. His feelings are normal healthy friendship feelings except when he flirts with the bastard. It's sick. I call him and with my deep, dark voice, I tell him I love him but he needs to die. The first part sounds like Mark. But it's oh, so me. I call up a few other "friends" of Marks and send similar parting thoughts. I have no intention on carrying these through. My ultimate goal is Mark.

I head through the house. I immediately seek out Tyler, my fucking babysitter. Finding him on the couch staring into his phone, undoubtedly trying to see what girl he could have come over. I roll my eyes. I'll deal with him later.

I access the thoughts that I'd ignored for weeks. There is a careful record set, regardless of how much I pay attention. I'm glad we have a photographic memory. There is a whip from somewhere. Let's just say that if bitch boy regains his consciousness before I can do much else, I'll at least leave him a nice little present. My face lights up like its Christmas. I always wondered why people think that you have to be good to have some nice presents. This memory can sustain me for a while.

I find the whip in plain sight. Now Mark, surely you're smarter than this. He'd started slacking. When I arrive, he is usually more prepared. Where's the fun in having everything always your way? I move to go into his office. This will be possibly the worst place to wake up.

Tyler stands up in front of me. I grin maliciously because Tyler is so brave thinking he can stand up to me. He's ridiculous is what he is. I draw the evil smile out.

"You'd be more menacing if I didn't know you so well." I say, and he seems taken back by my voice. He never sees it coming. The stupid git.

"Mark, no." He says, his voice deep. Maybe he's not as sure as he thinks. He still hasn't realized that I'm not Mark.

"Guess again, bitch." I say, moving to go around him. I'll enjoy hurting him but I could be running out of time. Mark's started fighting me more recently and I never know just how much time I actually have. Tyler moves in my path.

"Now now, play nice." I say, pushing him away from me. Instead of moving, he comes closer. I push him harder and he looks more determined. Damn, I figured I'd just get this over with. I didn't intend on taking the time to fight him.

Instead of the bullshit, I decide last minute to push him hard away from me and go to the office and lock the door. I shove him from the side, intending on him to just fall on the floor. The sound of the glass shattering only adds to my glee. It's an added bonus to know that fuckface Tyler would be in pain too.

I pull an errant piece of glass from my cheek and smirk. More pain for Mark. I lock myself in the office, buying myself a little more time. I take off Mark's shirt. I throw it out the open window. Let him find it later.

Mark… Markimoo, it's time to come out and play. I grin, even though I know that there's no way he'll know what's going on. I'll feel the pain too, but I enjoy the pain. The pain makes me feel alive. I'm a sick fuck. Taking the whip, I turn so I can watch the entire beautiful performance with my back towards the mirror and my head turned so I can see. I crack the whip hard, arching it so that it directly hits our back. I revel in the pain, hearing the delicious screams that somehow come out a mixture of Mark's voice and mine. The more lashings I give us, the better it will be in the morning. After I've sufficiently felt the pain I wanted and I knew our back was covered, I move the whip with me through the house. Tyler's awake, but he looks to be in too much pain to move. I smirk at him as I pass. I toss the whip into the bedroom, it lands by the bed. Fine, whatever.

I feel Mark resurfacing. He still won't remember what happened, but he'll push me out of his mind. I fight as hard as I can, moving closer to the office again. I'm not sure why I want him in the office, other than I know that's where I feel most at home. He knocks me out of his mind but I still see flickering. He can lock me up in this corner, but I'm still here.

You're pathetic, Markimoo. I think, and I feel the thought registering in his brain. I'm gone, sucked into silence. I watch as he works his way to the room I had always intended on him going. I see Tyler getting up, but Mark doesn't. It must not register. We reach the mirror once more and I feel our body give out. He crumples to the floor and I feel triumphant.

The body slams on impact and we lose it. Flickering into black like there's nothing else.