I dream; dream of the animal I was.

You wake up from another crazy dream; a dream with boats, cute girls, and monsters. If you ever told Bell about that second one, you'd have a fifty-fifty chance of her either jokingly pretending to slap us; or begging for details.

Bell... 'just a year away from being with you again' you think; still annoyed at our continued existance.

"Shut up already." You murmur as you re-attach our prosthetic arm; and carefully adorn our leg brace.

"Yeah, he's annoying." Says Urge, as you reach for our walking stick.

"You're both annoying..." You groan out.

You leave your room, taking the automated stair-lift our father installed for 'Gam-Gam' so long ago, back when we were a boy. We exit the front door, heading to our car. With the press of a button, the door opens upward, and you clamber inside; looking back towards our home. The large estate our father had managed to get for himself away from the city always brings wonder to me; so perfectly symmetrical, its many rooms being cleaned reguarly... so much to describe, and so little time. A tragedy, really.

"I get it, I'm a rich kid." You say, turning on your car, and setting it to drive to... oh no.

"Oh yeah! Our favorite place, right Ego?" Shouts the annoyance in our skull.

"I'll drink if I damn well want." You say; pulling out our 'cheek' that our father had purchased; taking it from the bag we keep in the car.

A plastic, rubbery thing, placed into the gap in the right side of our face and latched to what remains of our right cheek; preventing the incoming **** from simply pouring out, as well as keeping us from looking too much like...

"A monster..." You say; that was my sentence! "and it's more than just booze... It's karaoke night, remember?"

Oh, of course; how could I forget such an important detail... you do remember we have a prosthodontist appointment today, right? We need new dentures after you 'misplaced' the last one. Puking them up into a sewer grate was damaging to the Walker name...

"I'm already a disgrace; what more damage could I do..."

I'm sorry, Ego... I shouldn't have been so crass.

"Since when do you apologize?" You wonder aloud.

Just 'drive'... and please, the 'good' station this time.

"Aww..." Whines Urge, wanting his usual rave tunes instead of the finery of piano.

...

After having finished up in the restroom, you quickly pull up our pants, wash our hand, and head out past the tables; towards the stage. There, an old, classic piano smelling of brandy awaits us. Shuffling through our bag as you take a seat, you pull out our other prosthetic; one with fake fingers at differing heights to facilitate the use of multiple or singular keys. Re-learning the piano with this arm was certainly a... wonderful thing.

"What song..." You whisper to us.

"The sad one."

The sad one, indeed.

You line up our hand; and 'hand', to the keys...

And play.

...

"Drunk again!? God damn it Danny!" Yells Lucius, throwing his phone down onto the sofa.

"Fuck off, Lue..." You slur out. "Its my life, I'll do what I want with it..."

Our brother is furious; yelling. "Mom is depressed, Dad is off praying again; and you're just always drunk! Spend some time with us, you ass! The doctors said you have another year; is this how you're going to spend it?!"

Tears star forming in his eyes as he flops down onto the couch; worn out and woeful; he whispers in grief. "I just want to be around you; talk to you, while I still can. You're my little brother god damn it... Is that so wrong?"

Your feelings are numbed, seeing your best friend since birth begin to openly weep. Those 'emotions' of ours have been like this since the crash; taken by Him... when are we doing something about Him, Ego?

"When are we making Him pay..." Asks Urge.

'Soon' you think.

Soon.

...

You look down at the loaded pistol in our hands; wondering... 'should we do it?'

"Yes" is your answer.

"We." Hand. "You." The. "Keys."

I walk out of the pouring rain, and into the truck stop He had just walked into; with the gun put away. He seemed to have left, just as I entered; damn it!

I walk up to the nearest stop attendant; a woman with 'Cindy' on her nametag, and I ask. "Have you seen Carl Morhis?"

Cindy seems shocked at first from my appearance; then says. "Oh... uh, he's out back."

I leave as soon as possible; hobbling my way towards the back of the stop. He won't get away...

I turn the corner, and see Him, nearly passed out; drunk. I take my time approaching this worthless meat-sack... this... this...

Monster.

I take the gun out from my jacket, kneel down, and point it at the 'man'.

"Hi 'Carl'... remember me?" I ask, voice trembling. "The one burning in the wreck; while you drove off in that big tanker of yours?"

"Of course I do... I saw you comin' from a mile back. You had the same style of car back then, too..." His voice is a whisper; barely a weep. "Well, what're you waitin' for. Do it. Send me to the devil. It's where I belong."

"Her name was Sibel... Say it." I mutter through clenched teeth; enraged at this worm's lack of fear. "Say the name of the girl you fucking murdered; Carl!"

A mixture of anger and sadness takes over the drunks voice, slurring out. "If I do, will you hurry the fuck up 'n shoot me?! I couldn't! I couldn't do it!"

He... couldn't?

I see it, in his left hand; a revolver... he wants to die... because of the crash...

Do it! He's a monster!

A wave of clarity comes over me; I'm about to kill a man... no. I...

"I... I can't..."

I drop to my knees, looking at the gun in my hand; I was about to...

"I can't do it... I... I'm..."

I'm a monster...

...

I wake up from another crazy dream; breathing heavily as sweat pours down my back and forehead.

A dream with pianos, family...

And 'Monsters.'