"The Bad One"

Allow me to introduce myselves,
      There are six of us, including me, the birthed one. Inconvenient as it is to have these "multiples", It would be far less of a challenge if it wasn't for the one who causes the most problems, the most disagreeable, vampire. ( A name she christened herself, by the way) Rightly suited, as well, she thrives off violence. Blood, and gore, all those things that make me cringe when watching a horror movie on t.v. Most of all, she craves my blood, spilt all the way down to the floor, spilled as far as it would go. That is her mission. When I feel her presence like I have since I woke up, rage envelops my body so powerfully it is a physical feeling. My blood boils, the same way it did whenever I would get angry at my mother for finding out whatever mischief I had gotten myself into. A cup of coffee later, and she's really started going at it. I can hear her voice, picture her face, while she berates me for being weak, stupid, willfully powerless. A voice so loud I clamp my hands over my ears but it does nothing to stop the namecalling, mixed with the peer-pressure like convincing me to do it. Just get up and do it. Stop being a coward.
      By this time my arms hurt so badly I feel like if I don't, if I don't just let some of it out, I will explode. So i do, I give her her wish. Just a test drive. It does not do the trick. She's less vocal now that it's the afternoon, David, the one who "manages" us, controls who goes in and who stays out, decided to give me a break I suppose. Still there is a lingering feeling of dissatisfaction, and an undeniable rage. Towards my abuser? No. Towards myself. Unbridled anger at the five year old girl for not doing more to ease her own suffering. It is ludicrous, and it is an opinion of myself that as long as I have her, I know I will not be able to escape from.