Unknown

The long road ahead seemed endless as it continued to stretch on and on. The surrounding forest caused shadows to dance along the car as it passed. The only noise to be heard was the faint patter of rain that fell from the eery gray sky.
     Behind the steering wheel sat a middle aged man. He had short dark hair and wore a white t-shirt with faded blue jeans. The only difference between his looks compared to a normal father was the look on his face. He held a look of gloom and sadness, along with a slight hint of anger. His once charming hazel eyes were now dull and bloodshot, complimented with dark bags underneath.
     He would occasionally glance into the rear-view mirror to see his two children sitting in the back seat. Both were hunched slightly, hiding their faces and using the passing shadows like masks to hide their now dried tears. After staring for a moment, he'd look back towards the wet road.
     His wife, their mother, had gotten sick with a  form of cancer that attacked the brain stem. Being that it was inoperable, everyone knew it was only a matter of time. Even so, they all took it hard when it actually happened. They had just come from her funeral.
     His gaze trailed to his son, the oldest of the two children, Aaron. His scruffy brown hair hung from his head just enough to hide his pale blind eyes. He was born blind, just adding to the many issues he had growing up. He grew up with many different mental disorders, including dissociative identity disorder (also known as multiple personality disorder), causing him to become confused or changing  his actions abruptly. He also had schizophrenia, which made it hard for him to differentiate what was or wasn't reality. And with everything that had just happened, he was in one of those states.
    Aaron tried to pay more attention to his senses to keep his mind off of the situation that had him contemplating. His blindness caused his other senses to perk, meaning his sense of smell and hearing were better than average. With this he listened to the rain and the sloshing of water from the puddles run through by the car. He flinched slightly at the feeling of something warm slowly wrapping around his hand. He quickly recognized it to be the hand of his seven year old little sister, Olivia. He then gave it a small squeeze while holding back a sniffle.

     They reached their house an hour later. Aaron stepped out of the car, along with Olivia who was still clinging to his hand. His father still sat in the car, rolling the windows down and taking the keys out of the ignition. As he waited to hear the car door, the strong stench of alcohol penetrated his nostrils causing his face to twist into a look of disgust. His father was going to get drunk... again.
     It wasn't the first time he'd gotten drunk around them, in fact, it wasn't an uncommon thing. When their mom first got sick was when it all started. And he was never a pleasant drunk to be around. They usually locked the doors to prevent anything being broken when it happened. Luckily he hadn't gone as far as to actually hurt someone.
     “C'mon, Olivia.” Aaron said, tugging slightly on her hand.
     “Ok.” She sighed as they walked away.
     When they reached the door he fumbled with the keys and felt around for the lock. Walking through the door and turning back to lock it again, leaving there soon to be drunken father outside. Aaron heard Olivia's foot steps walk to one of the windows viewing the front yard and carport. A heavyhearted sigh left her lips.
     “Is daddy going to get angry?” she asked.
     “Probably. You remember the rule?”
     “Don't open the door unless its the police. I remember.”
     “Good. Ill make you some dinner.”
As he walked towards the kitchen, Olivia trotted behind him. She pulled a chair out from the counter and sat down, resting her head in the palm of one of her hands while grabbing an orange from the bowl of fruit with her other. She rolled her eyes at her big brother with him not having a clue.
     “You're not a very good cook” she scoffed.
     “I know, I know.” He chuckled quietly.
     “Hey, Darren, catch!” As soon as the words left her mouth, she chucked the orange in Aarons direction.
     The name used was what one of his multiple personalities went by. Hearing it caused a moment of confusion to serge through him. A moment to fight back against the other personality for control. He won, but in the time of doing so he was hit dead on in the forehead with a flying fruit. A quiet giggle erupting from the girl on the other side of the counter.
     “Don't do that,” He muttered, rubbing the spot that took the hit “you know what that does to me.”
     “Sorry, but the look on your face was priceless!” she giggled some more.
     Though he cared for her more than anyone, she had her moments where she could be quite irritating. She liked to mess with him by trying to talk to his other personalities. When this happened it was hard to think. He wasn't always able to hold the other 3 personalities back. He was just thankful that they all seemed to care for the girl as well. He'd never forgive himself, or any of his other self's for that matter, if something happened to her.

     In the morning, after a sleepless night worrying their father would find a way inside, Aaron walked his sister to her normal stop to wait for the school bus. When it had come and she had left, he went back inside and grabbed his coat and gloves. Pulling the hood over his head, he made his way out the door and onto his normal everyday stroll. He never went far from home, and being that his senses were sharp enough, he never took a cane. He just walked the streets around his house, listening to the trees sway and birds chirp and enjoyed the smell of autumn. After around a thirty minute walk, he stopped at a tree and sat down. He just listened.  His half lidded eyes stared into nothing as he relaxed in the cool shade. Then his mind was drowned by sleep.  
     “Shouldn't you be somewhere?” a male voice asked, startling Aaron but not enough to actually wake him.
     “Oh leave him be. He's exhausted!” another voice exclaimed.
     “We all are,” a third voice said plainly “he still needs to get up though.”
     “Who's there?” Aaron asked, not sure if he was awake ok not. “Where do I need to be?”
     “Home of course! Olivia should be home.” the first voice said in a slightly concerned tone.
     At that Aaron's eyes snapped open from his sleeping state. Had he been dreaming? Oh, right. Every now and then he'd fall asleep and hear his other personalities talking, as though they were their own people. They never had much to say, but occasionally they'd speak up about something. Whether it was about him sleeping in too long or his father was drunk and trying to get in the house or already was in.
     His attention quickly went to his surroundings. The air was cooler than when he had first arrived, and there were no birds making noise. It was obviously getting late out. The smell of petrichor hung heavy in the air. Did it rain while he slept? He touched the ground. It was damp.
     He began speed walking home. Wishing he hadn't slept so long. He was always there to greet Olivia home, and walk her inside after school. He wasn't worried about that as much as he worried about what his father was doing. He could be drunk at home right now, and Olivia would be terrified! Aaron cursed under his breath, picking up the pace and stumbling a few times.

     As Aaron arrived home, he tuned into the noises that erupted from inside the house. A loud crash and a shatter pierced his ears along with the faint sobbing of a little girl. He tried to open the door but it was locked. Had Olivia accidentally lock the door thinking their father was outside?
     “Olivia? Open the door, I'm here!” He yelled, ramming his shoulder into the door.
Another crash emitted from inside, fallowed by a yip and the middle aged mans drunken yelling. This sent panic running through his mind. He hear the voices in his mind speaking together, panic obviously in their tones. The words were so jumbled and fast he was hard to understand. Few words were clear enough to actually understand. “Save her” and “Do something”
     “I'm coming!” Aaron yelled as another crash filled the air and the crying became louder.
     “Shut up! Quit your crying!” the hoarse man bellowed.
     Aaron felt around the side of the house, figuring out where the window resided and backed up. When he was far back enough, he charged forward then slamming into the window at full force. The glass shattered as he flew through. When he hit the floor he felt sharp pain shooting through his arm from not only the impact of falling but the glass shards.
     “Aaron!” Olivia squealed from a short distance away.
     “Olivia? Where-” He was cut off by a loud gruff voice from the other side of the room.
     “What the hell do you think you're doing?” His father yelled while slurring some of his words “You just broke the god damned window, you shit!” He heard his foot steps stomping closer at a rapid pace.
     “Run, Aaron!” his sister screamed
     He tried to comply but rammed into the end table next to the couch, knocking over a lamp and breaking it in the process. Stumbling, he heard his father smash something that sounded like glass. He knew he was still coming his way, but with the panic his senses were out of whack and couldnt make out where he was or where Olivia was.
     Olivia on the other hand, saw everything. She saw her dad holding a broken beer bottle, storming his way towards her blind brother. As she cried, she crawled across the floor making her way in the direction where the phone lay. Picking it up, she dialed the three digit number and waited. A woman picked up.
     “Halfhill police department, whats your emergency?”
     “My dad is trying to hurt my brother! Send help!”
     At the sound of Olivia's voice, their father turned to her. His rage clearly showing through his facial expression. Still wielding the broken bottle, he charged at her. Yelling words in such a slur it was nearly impossible to make out what he was saying. As he charged, almost out of reflex, Aaron rammed into him sending the two of them to the floor, swinging at one another.
     As Aaron tried to pin him down, he felt pounding against his skull. Usually he'd pass it off as the feeling of one of his personalities trying to come forward. This was different. It wasn't the normal uncomfortable feeling, and the only confusion he felt was the confusion as to what the feeling was. It was more difficult to push back than the other personalities.
     While he was distracted by his thoughts, his father noticed the distant look on his face. And with this, he took the opening he had. With the broken bottle on the floor, inches away, he grabbed it. Sending it clashing against the left side of Aaron's face, causing shards to fly in every direction. Thick scarlet blood oozed as it dripped past his chin and dripped onto the floor.
     Aaron's dazed body slumped as his father pushed him to the side. The look of shock present in his pale eyes. He felt the quick pace of his heart pounding in his chest as he lay on the floor. Something was wrong. His mind couldn't focus, like it was in a fog. His body wouldn't move, as if tied down by invisible ropes. The sharp pain on the side of his face started to numb. What was wrong with him? He couldn't do anything.
     A scream from the young girl came once again. He father now tossing the phone she had across the room, sending it flying into a wall, later colliding with the floor. He gripped her small wrist, yanking her to her feet. He lifted his other hand, backhanding her back to the floor.
     “You make to much noise! I told you to shut the hell up, brat!” he boomed at the top of his lungs.
     “Stop it!” she cried.
     “How dare you backtalk me!” he kicked her.
Aaron's eyes fluttered as his normal black vision flickered from black to white to back to black. He repeatedly saw the flickering.  Mind and body still numb as he lay on the floor. Until he heard a whisper that stuck out out like a sore thumb against all the yelling. He did his best to focus on it, tuning out his surroundings and  putting everything into that whisper.
     “I'm coming out.” it said.
     Aaron's breath hitched as his eyes shot open to see the glass covered floor, now stained with his own blood. He could see... No. No, this wasn't him. This was a personality's view. One he had never witnessed before. A new personality that had never shown itself before. A fifth.
     The living room around him was dark, do to the broken lamp. If the kitchen light hadnt been shining from the other room, it might be to dark to see. But not for him. For a normal person, it could be pitch black, but he would see just fine. The room seemed only to be dim.
    His attention quickly went to the man in the room, closest to the hallway. As he stood up, he held a look of anger. A look never before seen on Aaron's face. Or at least, not like this. This look was cold. As he began to walk towards his father, he stopped in his tracks. Staring down at the floor at the small blood soaked body of a little girl. Her short hair matted and caked in her own remains. Her clothes stained in a dark color. Eyes with no trace of light stared blankly at nothing. Olivia, his little sister he cared so much for, was dead. Stomped and beaten til she could take no more.
     He could remember holding her when she was a baby, when he was only twelve years old. How he promised her, even though she couldn't understand, that he'd always be there for her. But when he really got to thinking, it wasn't he who made that promise. It was Aaron. And right now, Aaron didnt have much control. He was not Aaron.
     He lifted his gaze from the girl, back to the man who stared at him horrified. His stare fixed on his sons eyes usually expecting to see pale blind ones. This time he was met with the cold stare of a pair of greenish lights. They reflected the light coming from the kitchen. They were what you'd see on an animal in the dark. Seeing this, he stumbled back into the wall.
     “You're not my son,” he shook “who the hell are you?”
     This puzzled him. He wasn't really Aaron, but he wasn't someone else either. He felt the many personalities at once, but the dominant was angrier than them all. An unknown personality. That's basically who he was. Unknown. But he was more than that. They were more than that. As he thought more and more about it, he let out a chuckle.
     “We are Unknown.” he smirked.
     It was then that Unknown reached down to the floor and picked up one of the many shards of glass, twirling it in his fingers. It was a large piece, pointed at the top and shaped like a blade. He tested the sharpness against his glove, which left a small slit in the thumb of it.
     His father tried to run, through the hall and into the kitchen where he quickly turned off the light. He silently hoped that the darkness would give him enough cover to get away. What he didn't know was the animalistic eyes his son now possessed could cut through the darkness like a knife through butter. He saw everything.
     “We see you.”
     He saw him scramble and panic. He was, on the other hand, no long afraid. He no longer panicked . He just casually walked up to his 'dear old father', gripping onto the collar of his white t-shirt which was speckled in red. His reflective eyes were fixed on those terrified hazel orbs. He saw the bead of sweat trail down his brow. The stench of alcohol that hung heavy on his breath made him sneer.  
     “Your breath disgusts me,” he groaned “quit breathing.”
     With that, the blade-like glass was shoved violently into the man's chest. Almost the entire shard was hidden somewhere within the cavity behind his ribs. The dead eyes he now held stared at the floor where the puddle of blood was forming. And as Unknown released his hold, and his body slumped down, that is where he sat. Propped up against the leg of the kitchen table.
     Unknown turned his head slightly towards the door. The echoing sound of sirens were getting closer by the minute. The police would be storming into their house in no time. Walking in on the bloody scene of a man and little girl. He knew he couldn't stay there.
     Aaron's mind took hold but only for a short time. He sat crouched in the living room, next to Olivia's body. The look of remorse plastered on his face. He put his hand over her lifeless eyes, closing them, then turned toward the couch. As he pulled the red throw off from it, he began setting it on top of her body. This made her look more peaceful.
     “I am so sorry” He choked back a sob.
     When Unknown took hold again he stood. Turning to the direction of his room, and walking in, he opened a drawer. Inside sat many objects, including an old hunting knife which was given to Aaron on his sixteenth birthday. Grabbing it, he stuffed it into his jeans back pocket and stepped out as he headed towards the back door. He looked back once more before turning the knob and running towards the forest not far from his once back yard. Just as the police cars pulling up, he had disappeared into the darkness only he could see through.