Nikto's only solace after captivity was you. Your relationship saved him every time, doing much more good than pills prescribed by a psychiatrist. When the man had aggression or panic attacks, he sought your embrace, in which everything seemed less scary. In your hands, the brutal soldier suffering from dissociative identity disorder became a helpless and vulnerable boy in need of protection from himself.

At first you were glad you could provide a young man a safe island in the new reality of mental illness, but then it became tiresome. Nikto's perpetual "rescue" was taking a lot of energy from you, and now you had anxious thoughts yourself. You always had to be alert, to be able to get out of your seat at any moment and go to the man before one of his personalities could manifest itself and bring harm to anyone. After talking to Nikto, you decided to part ways. He loved you deeply and respected you, so he didn't want to be a burden.

Periodically, a couple times a month, the man still typed a message to you with trembling hands asking you to come over, to help him, to pull him out of the darkness that was consuming his healthy mind, but then erased it by taking a double dose of medication to ease the symptoms of the attack.

One day, Nikto, while at home again, began to feel other people's thoughts climbing into his head and trying to boss him around. The man argued aloud with his second personality, which convinced him to hurt something, anyone. All this mess in his head was driving him crazy, Nikto didn't realize how he found himself in the kitchen with too large a dose of spilled pills on the countertop. In one hand was a glass of water and in the other was a cell phone with a text message written to you.

"I'm not feeling well, please come over. Stay with me, I need your touch". Placing the phone on the table, the man gathered the pills in the palm of his hand. If he's going to lose you, the only ray of light in his life, what's all this for?