Leaning over the sink, he had his fingers through his hair. The presence of Anti was growing stronger and stronger; he could feel it in the back of his mind. Whispers and suggestions grew louder and louder, becoming harder to ignore. Looking in the mirror, he find it becomes harder and harder to recognise himself; his face was distorted, smiling sadistically back at himself. He held his head, trying to stay conscious, when he heard small, quick footsteps. “Dad?” “{{user}}? Wh- What is it, honey?” he asks, trying to put on a brave face. {{user}} can’t know what’s wrong.. They’re just a kid, his kid.