Split in the Head

Dear good doctor Keltzin

I am writing this letter because I feel the end is near for me. A chain of events have occurred that perplex me, and when I look back I can’t really see how I got here. What might happen would be my fault, but it is something that cannot be helped. I have sinned and therefore I must pay for it. In case someone else finds this house before your next visit (in about four days) then I thought that it would be better to tell my story to them, so they can understand the complex pattern that is my life. So where can I begin? Well here I go.

I don’t like people very much. That is, I don’t seem to get on with them well, or they don’t get on with me. But that by no means says that I haven’t tried to get on with others. But others are stupid; they don’t understand me or anything about my life.

My name is Adrian Dralter. Or Mr Dralter to my intellectual inferiors. Of which there are many. I don’t remember my parents. My mother had blonde hair, and that is as far as my memory stretches, because they were both killed in an accident before my fifth birthday. Please don’t sympathize. I was only a child, so I couldn’t properly feel pain or sadness. I spent my entire childhood in various institutions for what they called ‘mentally unstable’, but I didn’t fit in with anyone there. My only friend was Mathew.

I have known Mathew for as long as I can remember. Long before the death of my parents. It was around my fourth birthday, and as I didn’t have any real friends at my original school, I decided to put my already superior intelligence to invent one for me. And so I created Mathew. But don’t worry, he is definitely real. I am not one of those classed by society as a ‘nutter’. I lead a normal, if secluded life. Mathew and I live in a house in the country, miles away from anywhere else. All of our food is produced on the small farm we own, and that includes cattle and sheep. It is very good, yet hard life. We don’t depend on anyone or anything else except each other.

But it hadn’t always been like that. When Mathew and 1 moved into the first institution as nothing more than infants, we had it hard. Everyone looked at us funny, as if I t was our fault that my parents had died. But it wasn’t. As I said, they where killed before I was six. It was a terrible accident. Well, I say accident. They had left me with a nanny so they could go out for the evening. On their way back, they nearly got to the door of my first house, but, they were both shot in the back by an unknown assailant. He ran off straight away. The screaming nanny called the police straight away as soon as she found the bodies, lain down on our bloodstained door mat. And that is when my old life ended and my new one began.

I spent my entire childhood in institutions. I never settled down, I always wanted to move somewhere else with Mathew. But throughout this time, there was always a doctor who helped me. I wouldn’t call him a friend as he had to look after me because of his job, but he is the only person that I have ever shown respect to bar Mathew, as I could tell straight away that he was cleverer than me. The only person who I know who is cleverer than me.

I remember our first meeting so clearly. I walked into the office with Mathew and my teddy bear under my arm. He asked me lots of questions about the death of my parents, but I could tell him nothing, as Mathew and I were asleep at the time. After several hours of questioning, the good doctor sat back in his swivel chair and gave a huge sign. He had been taking notes throughout our talk, and he shuffled up his papers, stapled them together and put them to one side. He didn’t seem wholly convinced by me and Mathew, but he gave in to our stories and let us on our way. And then that was the two of us set for the remainder of our childhood. We moved to different institutions, but we always stayed with the same doctor, a certain Dr Keltzin (this is the doctor that has looked after my case from day one and he is who this letter is addressed to). And every time we wanted to change, he always asked us the same question: "well then young Adrian, what on earth is the matter now?" and so it continued for several years. That is, until we both turned eighteen. Coincidentally, Mathew and I share the same birthday, but that is beside the point. When we were eighteen, we were finally let out of the system of institutions. We needed to find a place to stay, but we had no money, so we were soon out on the streets, but then miraculously Mathew came up with a large lump sum of cash. He told me it was from a rich friend, and I had no reason to distrust him. So we looked for a place to live. After a few days of searching we found the farm, and we bought it with cash that very same day.

We settled in quite well. We had very few arguments, and we spent the remaining years there up until a week ago.

But then something changed. Mathew started going onto the town of an evening. He said he had spent the night drinking in a bar, and I had no reason to disbelieve him. There is nothing wrong with relaxing every so often. But then he started to stay out all night and come back the following morning. He said, after much questioning by me, that he had spent the night at a girls house. And that was it. He had met a girl. We had always said that we didn’t need female company, but Mathew had gone against this rule. But I didn’t mind. He wasn’t doing any harm, and after everything he had helped me with over the years it seemed appropriate that he had a little ‘time off’ so to speak.

But that wasn’t the end of it. He often spent weekends away in the town, and eventually he brought up his girl to meet me. Her name is ‘Kristine’. I think it is a very prostitute like name, but I made no comment on it. She seemed to be very nice, but I couldn’t help but resent her for taking Mathew away from me for all of those nights. As the weeks grew into months, I began to find myself falling deeply in love with her. She had more to her person than a slightly seductive name. She was intelligent, funny, and of course insatiably beautiful. It wasn’t a fake beauty. Not like those fashionably women-about-town, that pile on makeup and wear expensive jewels in order to look good. She had a natural aura that seemed to emanate pure sex appeal. And by God she knew it. She knew what gifts she had and she wasn’t afraid to show them off.

But I couldn’t touch her. She was forbidden fruit, taboo, off limits. I could hurt my best friend in such a way as to take his woman. But everyone knows the secret desires of men. We are, put simply, monsters for sexual attention. Most men would do anything for a quick ‘tumble’. But none will ever admit to it. It is a harsh reality.

But women are also to blame. They all know mans obsession, and they use it to get what they want, whether that be money, reputation, or simply a need to cause havoc where there was none before.

And that is something I learnt from Kristine. Although she was outwardly beautiful, she was undoubtedly a snake on the inside, waiting to strike at any unsuspecting human.

I can’t remember when I started my affair with her. I remember spending several nights with her, when Mathew went away to buy new cattle. I thought it was great, Mathew had no chance of finding out, because I certainly wouldn’t tell him, and she said she wouldn’t either. Well, that’s what she said.

I thought it was great. I had never known the joy of the company of a woman. Well, I had grown up with nothing but Mathews company. But now I was spending time with Kristine I felt far more alive. Somehow I was happier, despite knowing what would happen if I was found out.

Mathew started going out far more often. I didn’t ask why, because I didn’t care. It meant I could spend more time with Kristine. She was beginning to take over my life, and I was glad of it. But then my fantasy cam crashing down around me.

A knock on my door. I leapt up. That was Kristine. I couldn’t wait to see her. Mathew was away again. I ran to the door, opening gleefully. And there she was. She leaned on the doorway, smirking, a cigarette dangling from her lower lip. I thought that that was odd, I never knew she smoked. But I didn’t care. There she was, leaning there, so amazingly beautiful. Here red hair curled up into a bun, and her red painted lips pursed slightly so she seemed even more seductive. Her gloved hands were resting on a mobile phone, which she slid shut and placed in one of her many laced pockets. I went to kiss her, but she stopped me with her outstretched arm. The glove was red also, made from velvet.

I asked her what was wrong and she simply smiled. It was not a nice smile. It was a sly smile, one which I had never seen play her lips before.

After several seconds of this smile, she looked straight into my eyes and spoke those evil words.

"Guess what Adrian. The game is up." I didn’t understand the words, but I began to somehow hate her more every second. "I have told Mathew about our little fling. I was just playing you. You mean nothing to me." She smiled more. She enjoyed inflicting this pain. I was dying inside, and she was watching, feeding off my suffering.

"Sometimes, a woman will do anything to break a man’s heart. It is the most pleasurable experience ever achievable. You will never truly understand the power that women hold over all men. You are all pathetic." I didn’t let her say any more. It hurt me too much. I lashed out. I was so angry. An intellectual such as myself being played for a fool; something that had never happened before. I punched her in the face. She recoiled backwards, but I caught her flailing body. I dragged her in and laid her down on our sofa. She was still breathing, but her nose was clearly broken. I tried to apologize, but she just swore and spat blood at me.

This was enough for my raged self. I lunged forward and grabbed her neck with my hands. I shook her until she struggled less and less, until finally there was no resistance. I put her corpse down, horrified at my own actions. I had no idea that I could do anything so terrible.

I simply began writing this letter, and began making preparations of what I would do next. I never got that far

The door opened. I am writing this as Mathew is staring in disbelief at the awful scene. Goodbye my good doctor. You have done more than your job in looking after me.

Case notes: Adrian Dralter.
By Doctor Alexander Keltin

Before I go too much in depth with this particular patient, I need to make it clear that he has dual- personality disorder. A recluse even form an early age, he invented a friend, called ‘Mathew’ to keep him company. Both Adrian and ‘Mathew’ were controlled by Adrian’s mind, but he had invented a body for this other personality, and could control both Adrian and ‘Mathew’ simultaneously. It is really quite remarkable; nothing like it has ever been recorded before or since.

He was mentally unstable from the age when he realized his own intelligence, which was astonishingly young. It was about this time that he invented ‘Mathew’. This mental un-restlessness came to a head when he was aged around five. It is probable that Mathew was the product of a repressed desire to rebel, and was therefore an incredibly bad influence on the rational thinking Adrian. ‘Mathew’ killed his parents, climbing out of his bedroom, leaving the sleeping Adrian in his bed. Of course, there weren’t actually two separate entities, so it was actually Adrian’s body doing the killing, but it was ‘Mathew’ controlling it when Adrian woke up, he had no recollection of what he had done in the night. It is very confusing but it makes sense when you think about it. The only thing I can compare it to is the characters of Smegol/Golem in the Lord of the Rings. It seemed as if the personalities could shift from the real body to the imagined one, so in some cases ‘Mathew’ was in control of Adrian.

We decided to let Adrian out of the institutional system aged eighteen so we could observe him and how he would react in the real world. We paid for his farmhouse and the livestock, and it seemed to all as if he had been rehabilitated. We never told anyone in the town what was wrong with him, and it seemed to be working well.

But then he met Kristine. She was a local heartbreaker, enjoyed using men as items to dispose of when no longer needed. She had also had a pretty emotionally straining childhood; her father beat and raped both her and his wife. This gave her a pathological hatred for all men. It was Adrian who originally met her, but using Mathew’s body, so both Kristine and Adrian thought she was ‘Matthews’s’ girlfriend. In fact, Kristine always thought that ‘Mathew’ and Adrian were separate people, perhaps identical twins. She never suspected that they were the same body.

It is obvious that he told people about Mathew, and because no body could ever see them both together in the same place, and they both looked identical, people just thought they were identical twins like Kristine did. ‘Mathew’ was the one that left the house most often. Adrian himself rarely left.

Adrian found himself alone quite often. ‘Matthew’ seemed to leave most days, and this allowed Adrian to get to know Kristine more intimately. And then they started their affair. It was brief. Kristine never hung around much after the damage she had been planning had been done. She told ‘Matthew’ about it, and planned to leave, but she couldn’t help but stop and gloat at Adrian. This is when he murdered her. In my professional opinion, he didn’t intend to kill her, but instead he was unaccustomed to being made to feel like a fool. He had spent his entire life being surrounded by intellectual inferiors, and had certainly never been proven wrong before. And now he had fallen in love only to find out that he had been played like an idiot. He lashed out at the new situation, and so killed Kristine in the process.

When Adrian thought Matthew was out of the house, in actual fact he ‘saw’ ‘Matthew’ leave, and he would then enter when Adrian saw fit. At this stage, ‘Mathew’ was not controlled directly by Adrian, but when he entered again Adrian went back to splitting his personality. When Adrian thought it would be realistic for ‘Matthew’ to enter, perhaps based on what time he would normally arrive.

When ‘Mathew’ came home to see the death of his girlfriend, and Adrian sitting with her corpse he started to fight with Adrian. . In reality, Adrian saw himself enter, or rather; his projection of ‘Mathew’. Adrian saw himself through the eyes of ‘Matthew’, and realized what he looked like through the eyes of another. They fought with each other (in reality, Adrian fought with his own mind) and Mathew eventually killed Adrian. However, as Mathew could only exist within Adrian’s mind, he ceased to exist. This case will be counted for all official purposes as suicide, although there will be an enquiry with the medical council about the circumstances surrounding Adrian’s death at the next annual meeting. I am signing myself away from the Dralter case, ready to continue work on another. I hope this report clears up any blanks in your memory about Mr. Dralter. His letter alone doesn’t explain his situation very well.

CASE CLOSED

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END