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My eyes kept locking with myself, Debo looked so defeated and tired. His eyes were gray and gloomy, I could feel and see the rejection and disappointment on his face, and it almost took over my entire being, making me feel bad.

“I decided to walk away from a certain lifestyle that triggers him into madness. I’m taking the lead with that. I know that I can’t feed myself violence or he will capitalize off of it.” I stroked my beard and made eye contact with myself again. He opened the window and turned his entire body. Letting his legs hang off the ledge, he looked at me pitifully.

I could feel my heart slamming hard in my chest as I sat up at the edge of my seat. It felt like I was terribly letting myself down.

“That’s good, Matthew, you look like your about to panic right now. Why is that?” She pushed her thin glasses up the bridge of her nose then picked up her pen and wrote a couple things down on the notepad in front of her.

Ignoring her, I stood up and walked behind her to where Debo was giving me his back.

“What the fuck are you doing man!” He didn’t answer and that shit caused a painful lump in my throat. This nigga was trying to kill us and I couldn’t let that happen. I could also feel the disconnection between us.

“I’ll die before I let you turn me into a square ass pussy.” He mumbled still not looking at me.

“Mr. Brownston.” Ms. Deanne called out again and I ignored her, blocking her voice from entering my head.

“You can’t do that! I gotta make it out of this bitch to go to Praylah and our daughter nigga. Don’t be fuckin selfish.” I nudged him and my hand went right through his shoulder. That proved even more that he wasn’t really there, my mind was playing tricks on me. It felt too real though and the beat of my heart was causing my chest to constrict.

Debo turned and looked at me, blood was leaking from his eyes mixed with tears.

“I have to do this, a nigga don’t have the same heart as you. I ain’t capable to love like you either nigga. I love to kill and torture, be a menace to the fuckin streets. You up in this bitch taking pills and tryna kill me nigga. Just let me end this shit for I end up killing both of us.” He urged and gave me his back.

I felt Ms. Deanne hands grab my wrist and yank me backward, just as Debo leaped off the window ledge. I screamed loud and my body shook hard. Panic was sending me in overdrive. Looking out that window from the sixth floor, I saw blood and myself laying there motionless.

Dropping down to my knees, I cried hard, harder than I ever cried in my life. I didn’t know, I wasn’t sure, if that was what I really wanted.

“Mr. Brownston, your release is tomorrow, honey. I don’t want this to hinder you. If I feel like this is too much for you then I will be forced to keep you here a little longer. You have to talk to me sweetie.” I counted down to ten in my head and willed myself to stand. I couldn’t stop the tears as I stood and took steps towards my seat, right in front of Ms. Deanne desk. I flopped down defeatedly and couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eyes.

“He killed himself, I don’t know if I wanted that nigga to do that.” I backhanded my tears and looked up at her.

“Well, maybe that’s the end. Maybe it's not the end. You see that’s how it kind of works with split personalities. There are a variety of triggers that can cause switching between alters, or identities. It can be stress or memories, strong emotions, substance use are special events that take place in specific situations.” She gave me a concern look. I kept staring at her and back at that window ledge wondering if Debo was going to appear again.

I couldn’t tell her that the first trigger came from the first body I caught as a young teen. I remember that night because it was the first time, I actually saw that nigga Debo. I panicked hard that night, and instead of me hearing him, he appeared in my room and told me what to call him. He told me that he would never lead me wrong and ever since then I had been following behind him.

With him, I didn’t feel or have a conscience with the decisions that I made. I could kill, go fuck a bitch, eat good then rest my eyes like it never happened.

“Think of all the things that you have done that you wouldn’t normally do. That’s all Debo and now he has ended himself so you can somewhat live a normal lifestyle. I must say this is something new. A lot of people learn to live with dissociative identity disorder, but not many get a chance to break away from it. Not saying that this is the case with you because we have to wait to see if another voice will appear in your head. I would want to keep in contact with you to observe this.” I nodded my head, because I was still in shock and lost in my own thoughts.

It felt like I was mourning hard right now, memories raced through my head of all the hard times and good times that I had with myself. I felt like a huge part of me was missing.

“You have to now convince yourself that whatever you just witnessed and visualized right now was for the better. Its normal to feel a little empty for a while and to miss hearing or seeing yourself in that light.” I nodded my head because she was right. It didn’t stop the ache in my chest. My thoughts started to settle a little more and I could see clearer through the tears that kept leaking.

“You right, this is what I wanted, it’s what I needed. I just didn’t expect that shit to happen like it did.” We sat and talked for over an hour, the more that I talked, the better I was starting to feel.

Ms. Deanne explained to me to limit the usage of all of my medications, especially if I don’t hear voices or hallucinate. I was once taking antidepressants along with anti- anxiety and anti-psychotic drugs to help control Debo a little more. Now that he was supposedly gone, she wanted to see how my mental operated without all of those pills.

I agreed and even felt okay with her asking for me to stay for five more days. I was okay with the help she offered me because I knew I would need it.

I stood outside of my treatment facility feeling good as hell. I finally succeeded and stuck to something that would help better me. I ordered a driving service to take me to the airport. As bad as I wanted to call Praylah and ask her to pick me up from the airport I didn’t. I needed to handle a list of other things before I got to her first.

I got on my flight and rested the entire way back to Cali. When I landed, I had my assistant Alesia pick me up and she jumped for joy, happy that I came back. Alesia went on and on about new employees and new business deals she put on hold until my return.

“Oh, and Praylah might be upset with you. She’s going to want to know where you been the past five days. She threw a big surprise party for you thinking you were coming home. I mean you had people calling me like I was supposed to know.” Alesia eyed me sternly. I couldn’t do shit but chuckle at her.

Alesia always got on my case, but her loyalty spoke volumes to me. I instantly felt fucked up for not communicating to Praylah. If I would’ve called her and heard her voice, I knew I would’ve caved in. I missed her so fucking much that it made a nigga feel sick to the stomach. I agreed to stay five more days because I needed the help with understanding what had took place with watching myself jump out that window.

I now understood that it was me really disconnecting with that side of me. Which was why I now had Alesia taking me straight to my sister Mattea house. I had already let Honor know that it all was hers. My trap spots and anything that I had street wise, including Slaughter Gang was hers except the legit football hood team that I was building with Soulful.

I became surprised when she told me that she didn’t want to work with the Blue Diamond Dynasty which tied her to Ream. Honor got close with Roberto and wanted found a way to secure him as her connect which would make her the big dog in the state of California. Ream would become more of her competition when it came to the drug side of things. All in all it was enough money and drugs for any big dog to eat off of. I no longer wanted parts in that shit. I didn’t want any triggers, each day that went by I started to adjust to not hearing or seeing myself in rare form.