Darkness surrounds me.  Not the darkness that I fear these days -- the absence of light in the unfamiliar places, the dangerous places, the darkness that hides the unknown -- but the darkness tinged pink by soft light filtering through the eyelids.  Around me, silence falls like a velvet blanket.  It always does when I close my eyes.  It is a waiting silence, broken by the voice whispering in my ear; soft and silken.

"They're waiting for your answer, you know.  Kitten has a suggestion, if you need it, Gill."

A smile dances at my lips.  My kitten.  Always so shy, and tentative, unaware of her own strength and will until she needs to exercise them.  They are, to her, the hidden dagger.  They come out and do their job when they're needed, then they disappear, and none may know they are there, except those of us who know her.  She always speaks first, hesitant though she may be.

"Down, Kitten.  If she needs your help she'll ask for it.  Won't you Gill?"

Oh yes.  Storm.  Loud and brash.  Arrogant, condescending, but also somehow managing to be tender and motherly.  A woman of contrasts.  She'd do well in the business world.  She knows what she wants, and she knows she she has to do to get it.  Supremely self-confident, even if she'd been proved wrong.

"They won't wait forever, but they will wait.  These people know enough by now to be patient."

That voice is cool and clinical, and well-placed in it's logic, and could only belong to Caroline.  If such fictional characters as Vulcans existed, she would be their archetype.  A lot of people find her unapproachable, but, oh well.  That's their loss.  She holds a great deal of knowledge.

A soft laugh, the voice sultry and smoky, sounds in my other ear.  A feeling like a companionable arm slips across my shoulders, and soft words float through the laugh.

"Decide in your own time, Gill.  They can't make you hurry, only you can."

I smile again at these knowing words, and slowly open my eyes again, to find twelve pairs of eyes staring at my with wary interest.  The room is still silent, and none of the voices come from any of the people seated in this circle.  None of them know of the conversation that passed.  They're still waiting to hear what I have to say, and they wait quietly because, even now, they still don't know who's going to be talking when my mouth opens next.

This is the way of life, and the one thing about myself that is hardest to explain to those who want to get to know me.  I'm not crazy, or insane; although I thought I was for the longest time.  I heard voices in my head, but they never told me to do bad things.  They always had advice for me, a nudge in this direction or that.  I didn't know it for quite some time, and even to this day a lot of people who know me don' know it either.

How on this earth do you tell someone that you have multiple personalities, and have them believe you?  Most people I tell look at me as if I just grew a foot out of the middle of my forehead.  Fear, revulsion, or disbelief.  But these people, they understand.  They should by now.  I've been a member of this support group for nearly six years now.  But, yes ,they are waiting for an answer.  My eyes dip, and a shy smile curls my lips as Kitten slots neatly into place and in control.

"No, there's nothing to report tonight.  Perhaps next time?"