Just the Three of Us

The following is a flash fiction piece I wrote exploring DID. You may read, but please do not copy.

Just the Three of Us
© Cynthia Kimball

          Slamming her book on the table, Teri glares into thin air.
          “You know, that really is not a good look for you,” says a voice from behind her.
          Rolling her eyes, Teri doesn’t even bother turning around. “Cute, Jonathon. We have limited time and once again she hasn’t shown up. Now what do we do?”
          “What we do every time, Teri,” he chuckles. “We talk, make decisions, and then work with her when she cannot understand them.”
          Growling softly, Teri takes a deep breath and opens up her notebook. “That really doesn’t help when she is the problem we need to talk about. Every time we make a decision and go forward, she throws a wrench into the works and you know it. If she isn’t part of the solution, then she is part of the…”
          “Well, that is trite,” he cuts her off with a snort. “Really, are you going to go there? It is not like she is so different from us.”
          Blushing with embarrassment, Teri concentrates on a speck of paint embedded in the table.
          “Fine,” she says through gritted teeth. “Let’s go over the issues. First, she has been getting into my things again and screwing everything up.”
          “Like what?” he asks calmly, taking a seat close by.
          “Everything!” she splutters. “She goes online and changes all the settings for my accounts and sometimes doesn’t even let me know what the new passwords are! And no matter how many times I tell her to stay out of my room, I go in there to find crumbs in my bed. Do you know how hard it is to sleep when you are laying in crumbs?”
          Even though he doesn’t make a sound, she knows he is laughing without having to turn and see him. “You think this is funny, don’t you?”
          “Ah, you have to admit,” he snickers, “she is very good at getting your attention. Your problem is that you keep trying to ignore her.”
          “She’s a little child,” Teri whines softly. “We have nothing in common.”
          “That is not true,” he chides and she grimaces at the truth of his statement. “Come on Teri, you need to stop ignoring her and start treating her with some respect.”
          Her glare is back full force. “How is it that you get along with her so well?”
          “I saved her from hell,” is his only response.
          Sighing, she scribbles along the margins in her notebook. “I just don’t understand her. All she wants to do is what she wants to do. When she decides she wants something, she simply takes over and I’m helpless. Why can’t she grow up?”
          Silence meets her question and for a moment, she wonders if he left.
          “You know the answer to that,” he responds calmly. “Little Girl will never grow up. I wish you would accept that and instead of forcing her to try and act like an adult, accept her as she is and learn to have a little fun. That is all she wants, after all.”
          “But you act responsibly,” she says, immediately feeling stupid. “I know, I know,” she groans, “you are an adult, she’s not.”
          “And it is not that she does not act responsibly. She is only five years old,” he reminds her. “She will always be five years old. You are the only one of us who gets older here, Teri. Please remember that.”
          The only sound that breaks the silence that follows is Teri’s deep breaths. “I will try,” she finally concedes. “How come you always know the right thing to say?”
          He chuckles as he stands up and walks away. “I have been thirty years old for a very long time.”