Scarecrow of 1889
Chapter 38: Birth of the personalities

Chapter 38: Birth of the personalities

[Possible Trigger Warning] Music Recommendation: To Yeojin - Jung Se Rin

—

Given that Dr. Hall had encountered three distinct personalities, each with its own characteristics, it wasn’t difficult to discern which one had answered him. When he met Sylvester for another therapy session, the man appeared disturbed because one of his alter egos had torn his sister’s letter.

"Why did you tear Elizabeth’s letter, Agnes? Are you angry at her?"

Sylvester’s features had already begun to soften, from the gleam in his eyes to the way he sat like a lady. Agnes Holloway had taken over him, and she stared into space. Dr. Hall didn’t push for an immediate answer, and he patiently waited for her to speak.

"Do you know what betrayal feels like, Dr. Hall? Especially when it is done by your own blood?" Agnes asked him.

"I understand it can be incredibly painful," Dr. Hall replied sympathetically.

Agnes shook her head before saying, "It feels like you are drowning in a sea with no shore."

Dr. Hall recognised this as an opportunity to delve deeper into Agnes’s feelings. Seizing the moment, he gently probed, "What did she do that made you feel betrayed?" He reassured her, "This is a safe space, Agnes. You can share whatever is on your mind."

Agnes’s face bore a clear expression of inner turmoil as she spoke. "Elizabeth... she’s a selfish woman," she began, her voice tinged with bitterness. "She wasn’t there for me when I needed her the most. And now she pretends to care, not out of genuine sisterly affection, but because she’s concerned about how others will perceive her. She doesn’t want her dear husband to see her true colours."

"Has your relationship with her always been rocky?" Dr. Hall inquired carefully. He watched as Sylvester’s alter ego, the woman, picked something up from the trousers before dusting it away.

"No," Agnes replied, her expression softening as memories flooded back behind her dark eyes. "Elizabeth and I had some of the best times together. She was my role model, and I admired her. We used to have so much fun. She would make me laugh, and she always knew how to cheer me up. She’d even make sandwiches for me with an extra slice of cucumber, just the way I liked them. Those were happy times, but it didn’t last."

"What happened later?"

"Later, something happened..." Agnes hummed as if her thoughts were stuck on something before her eyes met the doctor’s. "And she left, as if nothing had happened. To live a life away from ours."

With Agnes skirting around the issue and refusing to divulge details, Dr. Hall let her vent while knowing that this might be his only chance to get her to open up. Carefully probing, he asked, "How old are you, Agnes?"

"Do you not know it’s rude to ask a woman’s age, Dr. Hall?" Agnes retorted, deflecting the question. "How old do you think I am?"

"Twenty-five?" Dr. Hall hazarded a guess.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Agnes’s lips, but she didn’t confirm or deny the age. Dr. Hall persisted, "Since how long has it been since you both drifted apart? Your relationship."

"When I was around six years old," Agnes replied cryptically.

"What happened at that time?" Dr. Hall pressed, but Agnes fell silent. "Agnes?"

"She isn’t here," came Ricardo’s voice, taking control of Sylvester’s body while Agnes retreated. Dr. Hall wondered if the topic was too sensitive for her. Switching gears, he greeted, "Hola, Ricardo."

"Hola," Ricardo replied, his demeanour unusually serious given the context of their conversation. "You’ve overwhelmed Agnes."

"That wasn’t my intention," Dr. Hall apologised before changing the subject. "When were you born, Ricardo?"

"After Agnes, when Sylvester was eight years old," Ricardo answered, his gaze fixed on the doctor.

"So you must know why Agnes tore Elizabeth’s letter, then?"

"Of course I do, and I support her in what she did. Agnes, of course."

"Did she hurt you too?"

"I don’t know about hurt, but I definitely didn’t expect her to do what she did. She is lucky she is alive, unlike that woman." Ricardo’s voice grew cold.

"Which woman? Ricardo?" Dr. Hall pressed, sensing the underlying trauma in Ricardo’s responses.

"Who else would be more important, doctor, if not the woman who gave birth to us," Ricardo laughed dryly, his eyes hardening.

"Your mother. What did she do to make you hate her?" Dr. Hall inquired, recognising Ricardo’s tendency towards violence compared to the other personalities, while noting Agnes’ streak of passive aggressiveness.

Ricardo’s jaw clenched and unclenched, his face undergoing subtle changes as if he were struggling to contain his emotions, which eventually burst forth as though he had kept them bottled up for a very long time. Finally, he began,

"My dear mother and dear father fell in love when they first met at one of the theatres. It was love at first sight. Or was it love at first sight of money, status, and beauty? Many admirers will never know. But when you marry in haste, marrying at first appearance, it is never enough, is it? That’s not what marriage is about, and sadly, neither of my parents knew it."

Ricardo let out a dark chuckle before continuing, "My mother, the great Delilah Swan, was a woman adored by many, but my father was not happy about it. She thrived on attention."

"How was your relationship with your parents?"

"Have you not been listening to me, doc?" Ricardo asked, a hint of a glare in his eyes. "I didn’t like either of them. And if you want to ask about Agnes, neither did she."

"I see," Dr. Hall said, then added, "When I spoke to Sylvester, he said he had fond memories of his parents. His father cared about him and his mother loved him."

"Why wouldn’t he? He’s lived a comfortable life, while we are the ones who share the pain. But you must already know about it, don’t you, doctor?" Ricardo raised his eyebrows. "But I think he barely remembers the details."

"What did your father do that made you not like him?"

Ricardo took a deep breath and said, "He was never happy with what he had. He was never satisfied, and he wanted us to be the way he wanted. Acceptance was far. Not that it’s different in many families, but my father would beat us when we said something we weren’t supposed to. One thing I hate about myself is that I look very much like him."

"That’s a terrible thing to do to a child. I am sorry to hear that you had a hard time with him. No child should ever go through something like that," Dr. Hall sympathised with him. "Didn’t your mother object to it?"

"Never marry an actress or have one as a mother. That’s what I believe, because they either have no time for you, or they have just too much time that it can be maddening," Ricardo replied. "I have met many women, but actresses are the ones I just cannot stand."

Dr. Hall didn’t interrupt the flow and patiently waited for Ricardo to divulge the details they had been seeking for the last few weeks since he had been admitted here.

"One night, while my sister and I were back at home, my parents were out attending a soiree held for my mother, in celebration of her success. But on their way back, their carriage broke down. Some say someone had tampered with the carriage wheel, while others say it was destiny. Someone killed my father, took the money, and fled," Ricardo turned to look out the window. "My mother, who was so certain her husband would not leave her, was left behind, and something changed within her. The absent mother was no longer absent."

He then continued, "Elizabeth and I initially travelled with our mother, moving schools and houses, depending on where my mother got offers to work. After the opera night, we returned to the house, and everyone went to bed. And that’s when it happened. My mother, she was being replaced on the front pages by other actresses, making her insecure and she was somewhere going crazy with no husband."

"She came into the room, even though the lights were off. She said she came to check if Sylvester was asleep and if he needed her. He could smell the alcohol in which she was heavily doused. She said she was missing him, and he didn’t understand at first. Calling her husband’s name. She said she was sad that he had left like that... and her hands moved in places that were not supposed to. Underneath his pants, even though he asked her to stop as he felt it painful, but the woman was far beyond gone."

"Was that when Agnes was born?" Dr. Hall asked, knowing most of the split personalities came from abuse and trauma.

Ricardo nodded, feeling the anger bubbling through his veins. "Si. You would think it was a drunken mistake, but it wasn’t. One night, Elizabeth woke up and witnessed it. All of it and Sylvester saw her."

"In the mornings, the sister he once admired behaved differently around him and their mother. She made an excuse about wanting to pursue the arts and suggested it would be best for her to move in with Aunt Abigail. With the mother’s attention primarily on Sylvester, it wasn’t difficult to let her daughter go. Yet, throughout all those years, not once did our sister inquire about Sylvester’s well-being. She simply turned a blind eye and left."

"I am sorry that you went through that, especially at the hands of your mother. I can understand your feelings towards your sister, but is it possible that she’s trying to make amends for not helping in the past?" Dr. Hall asked gently.

"It’s too late," Ricardo replied coldly.

"What happened after that?"

"With my sister away and just my mother and Sylvester, my mother decided to travel to Spain because of the culture and the music. The stage was much more attractive to her, and when she was lonely, she came to him once again at night, stronger than before, even though he begged her to stop..."

"And you were born," Dr. Hall remarked.

"So if you’re asking me if I feel about her death, you should know she deserved it," Ricardo stated bluntly.