"I have told you about the people that are important to me, my English teacher, who gave me inspiration and hope, my mother, who didn't give up, and my grandpa, who is just my lifesaver." Dr Wilson reads aloud. "But no one is more important to me than my twin brother Sasori, who died when I was born."

Dr Wilson lays the pages of my essay down on the table. I'm in hospital after the car accident, but not just for that anymore. I got a broken wrist and a lot of bruising from the car accident, but they're making me see Dr Wilson, she's a psychologist or a psychiatrist. I don't know the difference. I've been having sessions with her for the past few weeks.

"Look." I jump to my feet and begin to pace the room. "I know you don't believe that Sasori is a ghost. I know you think I've made this up."

I've told her everything now, why doesn't she believe me?

"Maybe he didn't do those things I told you about, but it seems too much of a coincidence, doesn't it? And if Sasori didn't do them, who did? There's no one else..."

Realisation hits me like the car hit me in the road. My knees give out, and I collapse to the floor.

"You... You... You think it was... Me," I whisper. "You think I'm Sasori." I pull my knees to my chest and rock back and forth before stopping and standing up again and raising my voice. "You think I'm two people inside my head!? That doesn't make sense!"

"Split personality, Deidara."

"If I'd done all that stuff, I'd remember..." My voice becomes quiet and croaky.

"Not necessarily, Deidara. The mind plays tricks on us."

"I'm Sasori." I say as I look at my hands in disbelief. I can no longer hold back the tears for the brother I thought I had. He doesn't exist anymore. He never existed. Only in my head.

It's cute though, right? For a 5 year old to have an 'imaginary' friend, lots of children had that, it's okay. But an 8 year old with an imaginary friend, is not okay. I soon learnt from the odd looks and the things that were said about me, to keep quiet.

He was angry. No... I was angry. It was me.

Everything becomes clear to me. I used Sasori as a way of showing the loathing, the recklessness, all the explosive feelings that Deidara could not express...

I'm lying in my hospital bed with the sheets over me. I'm crying. I'm crying for my brother who's never coming back. It's like he's dead. But he never really existed, so there's no point in getting upset. That's like getting upset over something that hasn't even happened yet.

I wipe the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand; I know that I'm stronger now, just as Sasori wanted.

"Goodbye, Sasori," I murmur softly. "I don't need you anymore."