"What is wrong with you?"

"Don't ask me questions! Just shut up, sit down and listen. Or I'll tie you to that chair and wrap tape around your mouth."

"Why are you treating me like this?"

"I SAID NO QUESTIONS!"

"Good; that's better. Now just sit there and don't say a word. I'm going to explain something to you, and you're not going to like it. This illusion that you're my twin brother might work for you, but not me. I'm finished with self-deception. And I'm sick of you. You're nothing but another personality in my head. Somebody my imagination devised as a mental defense mechanism against who I really am. I hate myself. I don't want to be me. So my mind created you. And now I know I'll never get better as long as you exist. Besides, you don't really exist, anyway. So, killing you won't really be a crime."

"What are you talking about? You can't kill me, I'm your brother."

"No, you're not my brother. You're me. And you're sick. And I'm not going to allow you to keep me down any longer."

"Stop. Will you listen to what you're saying. You're the one who's ill. You're talking about killing me. That's murder. You have to quit thinking like this. You have to let me help you."

"NO! Stop talking! You're only a voice in my head. I'm sick of listening to you."

"Please put the gun down. Look at me. Do I look like a figment of your imagination? Touch me. I'm real. You have to get help. You know I've studied psychology. I can help you. We can get you medication."

"No. You have to go away. I created you when I was a child to protect me from my fears. Now I know I'll never overcome those fears until I uncreate you."

"You did not create me. I'm older than you. I've taken care of you all these years. Please. Look at it this way. If I'm you, and you kill me, you'll be committing suicide. You can't do that."

"Shut up! You're confusing me."

"I'm not deliberately trying to confuse you. Please lower the gun. There's a logical explination for your confusion. And you know it. We both know that you're right. I'm not your twin brother. I am you. And you are the deluded part of me. You are the sick part of yourself. I am you. If you want to get better, you have to iliminate your barrier to mental health. You're right, you have to undo the alter-personality. And that's you. You're not real. Do the right thing. Put the gun to your own head and pull the trigger. Free yourself and begin your journey to recovery. You have the power of choice. Raise the gun and make the right choice.

BANG!