I do not own Glass, Split, or Unbreakable.
I do not own a horde.
The Light of the Casey
Wow
Kevin Wendell Crumb was crazy.
Around the corner, out of his mind, batshit crazy.
Yep.
Except in a way, he really wasn't.
Casey wasn't crazy; she didn't have Stockholm syndrome.
She didn't even think he was cute.
When all his alters had her locked up, she had been crippled with terror and fear.
Just trying to survive one or two seconds, minutes longer.
Not really able to think clearly about what the hell was going on.
But then, after she had shot him and been rescued by the local authorities, and then saved again . . .
". . . is here to pick you up . . . are you okay?"
Unbelievable, unreal, ungodly strain to speak, to stand up for herself.
To fight back again.
Because she never ever had.
"No."
Not ever.
"I don't want to go with him."
Not until then.
"He rapes me."
Not until she could turn away no longer.
"What?!"
. . . from the grubbing, slimy paws of her scumbag, horndog, fucker of an uncle . . .
". . . never have to see him again, Casey."
"Thank you."
. . . she had started to calm down.
And think about him.
Kevin Wendell Crumb.
And wonder . . .
What the hell even is it anyway?
. . . about his condition.
Multiple personalities.
What she had seen in movies.
And so she had, in between adjusting to her new foster home . . .
". . . Lisa and Devon . . ."
. . . attending therapy . . .
". . . -gin to heal . . ."
. . . and going to a brand new school where nobody knew her ever, . . .
". . . meet you, I'm Mrs. Stewart . . ."
. . . she had begun to search for Kevin.
For understanding to Kevin.
Multiple personality disorder.
An antiquated label, she had discovered.
Now a more modern understanding.
DID.
Dissociative Identity Disorder.
And she had been fascinated.
Wow.
And, more than a little jealous.
Not for the fact that he had so many fruit loops in his head that he, . . .
". . . Hedwig. I have red socks."
. . . Kevin, couldn't control them all.
Wow.
But for the fact they were there, essentially, to protect him.
Deal with situations he couldn't deal with.
Face trauma.
Suffer.
Or even just manage to function in society, interact with others more capably.
For him.
Kevin.
Because he couldn't.
When Uncle John had begun . . . doing the things he had done to her so many years ago, nobody had been there to protect her.
Nobody.
She had been all alone.
Weak, helpless.
Unable to fight back.
Just like Kevin.
And when Uncle John had crept into her room at night with his lying words and his bad touches, she would try to go away in her mind.
Pretend she was somewhere else, someone else.
It never quite worked, she never could really escape. Especially not the way Kevin could.
Kevin's mind literally created other people, a bunch considering how many folders she had seen on his home screen, to take over for him.
Casey could never escape it, could never disappear entirely from the misery, from the shame, from the pain and disgust.
It was why she had started cutting herself.
To make the emotional pain less.
By making the physical pain worse.
Try to get it out of her.
Without dying.
Yet.
But she could never get away from it.
Not like Kevin could.
Even the Beast was created to be strong, be powerful, where Kevin was weak, helpless.
And Casey . . .
Wow.
. . . couldn't even imagine.
Now understand, I nor Casey think Kevin is in any way at all 'lucky'. What was done to him was unspeakable. I actually have trouble writing for it because I terrifies me to look at my toddlers (close to Kevin's supposed age when his mother started in on him) and I just get sick to my stomach.
And I've got a strong stomach.
But still, the mystery of the mind's capability begs consideration.
So thanks for reading and protect the little ones, okay?
Protect us all.