The case of Marshall Wheeler - Don't hate me!
Marshall awoke to find himself in his bed. Electrodes were attached to his body. He realized it was not his bed—it was a hospital bed. He swung to the side and stepped out of the bed. He was clothed. Briskly, he walked for the door and exited the room.
He found himself staring into Lucas's face.
"Lucas, Lucas, what's going on? You have to help me?" Marshall said.
You are fake.
"I'm not fake, I'm just me!" Marshall replied defensively.
You want bonds from others, but you do not want the pain that comes with that—the hatred. So, you lie about who you are. You change to match them. Even the ones you love.
Marshall didn't reply.
Are you afraid of the truth? Or afraid of being hated?
"What truth?"
The truth that you are nothing. You are false. You develop bonds for people, but you do not know of them. You don't care for them. As long as they seem happy around you.
"That's not true!"
Do you think you're worthless?
"Of course not."
Do you think there are people better than you?
"Of course there are."
Is you brother a better person than you?
Images, memories and dream flashed through Marshall's head, all of which were about his brother. And the relationship they share. Some less than happy. Others even less happy than those preceding it. Before finally they ended with Marshall killing.
"Stop this!" He roared.
Now that you have told people how you feel, your world is falling apart, isn't it?
"What do you mean?" He asked.
"He means me, Marshall," Corrine said, her hand son her hips. "You have broken the bonds that formed our friendship. Yet, with others you want more than friendship. You are afraid to create those bonds? Why?"
"Because he could be hurt. He could be hated, people may not want that," Vaughn interjected knowingly.
"Shutup," Marshall hissed.
So you lie?
"I'm not lying!"
So, you ignore your feelings? Your heart and soul are unimportant compared to what they want?
"I never said that..." Marshall murmured defeated.
You fill your lives with people—you create false bonds, merely so you will not have to face reality. That you hate reality. That you hate your life.
"But I don't!"
Then what do you hate?
"Myself," he replied.
You wish to be alone?
"No."
You wish to be with others?
"No."
Then what do you wish?
HATE.
"I hate you!"
"I'm sorry, but I hate you!"
"I hate everything about you."
"When I look at you, I feel sick."
"I hope someone puts you out of your misery."
"You're pathetic."
"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"
Hate. Hate! HATE. HATE! HATE! HATE!
"See!" Marshall cried. "See! They all hate me! If I don't make them happy, then they will hate me! I can't have them hate me! If that happens then I'm nothing! I need them to like me!"
"Not everyone hates you," Lucas said gently, as he placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.
You do things for the purpose of others?
"You're lying to yourself," Lucas said.
"You just wait for people to bring you happiness by being nice to them. You refuse to state what's on you mind," Corrine snarled. "You won't tell anyone. You're sneaky and manipulative! You give people a false happiness so they won't hate you!"
"And yet," Marshall said looking her in the eye. "That's what you crave."
Marshall awoke to find himself in his bed. Electrodes were attached to his body. He realized it was not his bed—it was a hospital bed. He swung to the side and stepped out of the bed. He was clothed. Briskly, he walked for the door and exited the room.
He found himself staring into Lucas's face.
"Lucas, Lucas, what's going on? You have to help me?" Marshall said.
You are fake.
"I'm not fake, I'm just me!" Marshall replied defensively.
You want bonds from others, but you do not want the pain that comes with that—the hatred. So, you lie about who you are. You change to match them. Even the ones you love.
Marshall didn't reply.
Are you afraid of the truth? Or afraid of being hated?
"What truth?"
The truth that you are nothing. You are false. You develop bonds for people, but you do not know of them. You don't care for them. As long as they seem happy around you.
"That's not true!"
Do you think you're worthless?
"Of course not."
Do you think there are people better than you?
"Of course there are."
Is you brother a better person than you?
Images, memories and dream flashed through Marshall's head, all of which were about his brother. And the relationship they share. Some less than happy. Others even less happy than those preceding it. Before finally they ended with Marshall killing.
"Stop this!" He roared.
Now that you have told people how you feel, your world is falling apart, isn't it?
"What do you mean?" He asked.
"He means me, Marshall," Corrine said, her hand son her hips. "You have broken the bonds that formed our friendship. Yet, with others you want more than friendship. You are afraid to create those bonds? Why?"
"Because he could be hurt. He could be hated, people may not want that," Vaughn interjected knowingly.
"Shutup," Marshall hissed.
So you lie?
"I'm not lying!"
So, you ignore your feelings? Your heart and soul are unimportant compared to what they want?
"I never said that..." Marshall murmured defeated.
You fill your lives with people—you create false bonds, merely so you will not have to face reality. That you hate reality. That you hate your life.
"But I don't!"
Then what do you hate?
"Myself," he replied.
You wish to be alone?
"No."
You wish to be with others?
"No."
Then what do you wish?
HATE.
"I hate you!"
"I'm sorry, but I hate you!"
"I hate everything about you."
"When I look at you, I feel sick."
"I hope someone puts you out of your misery."
"You're pathetic."
"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"
Hate. Hate! HATE. HATE! HATE! HATE!
"See!" Marshall cried. "See! They all hate me! If I don't make them happy, then they will hate me! I can't have them hate me! If that happens then I'm nothing! I need them to like me!"
"Not everyone hates you," Lucas said gently, as he placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.
You do things for the purpose of others?
"You're lying to yourself," Lucas said.
"You just wait for people to bring you happiness by being nice to them. You refuse to state what's on you mind," Corrine snarled. "You won't tell anyone. You're sneaky and manipulative! You give people a false happiness so they won't hate you!"
"And yet," Marshall said looking her in the eye. "That's what you crave."