I stare at Jake, bewildered, for quite some time. "Why are you sorry for me?" I finally demand, utterly confused at this change of heart. "I killed people!"

"I'm sorry that something broke within you that resulted in you killing people, and I can tell that you're in pain because of that broken bit. I feel bad for you," Jake explains slowly, as if walking a child through Empathy 101.

"You're not supposed to feel sorry for me! I'm a killer!" When will he wrap his big, stupid head around that?

The Voice is watching this exchange happily. She understands that I am attempting to push him away, trying to remain isolated just as I have been for years now.

And that is what makes me do what I do next.

I muster up my body strength and lunge at Jake. He begins pulling back, alarmed, but I simply wrap my arms loosely around his neck and bury my face in his shoulder.

He relaxes as he realizes I am not trying to kill him, but am, in fact, hugging him. Awkwardly, he pats my back in what I assume is supposed to be a comforting gesture.

"But why would you apologize?" I whisper, words muffled even further by his shoulder.

"You're in pain. It's the polite thing to do." We both conveniently ignore the fact that we have both caused horrible pain for many people and our own loved ones without so much as a fleeting "sorry." "Plus, even a killer deserves to be treated like a human, and from the sound of it, back on Earth, they were treating you like an animal."

I remember the constant straitjacket, the pills in place of needles, the round-the-clock humiliation...the muzzle. I nod in agreement.

"My parents...disowned me," Jake admits slowly, and I can tell he does not want to be sharing this bit of his life but feels as though he must.

I draw back, settling comfortably against the pillow once more. Part of me feels that I should at least offer something along the lines of, "Oh, you don't have to tell me this!" but truth be told, I want to know. If the Voice has done one good thing for me, it has abolished my - and humanity as a whole's - habit of lying to make others feel better. I want to know, therefore, I will do what I can to know. A Voice philosophy, for sure, but quite helpful, especially at times such as this one.

"When they found out I was on drugs, they tried to get me to stop. Then they tried taking me to a therapist. When I refused to go, they called the police. It was bad. At first, they were just worried for me. By the time they tried to have me arrested, they were mad. They knew I was wrecking my own life and perpetuating a culture that should have died out long ago, not to mention that I was refusing to get help. Even then, I couldn't bring myself to admit that I had a life-ruining problem.

"Anyway, they called the police, but I was being careful back then. They couldn't pin anything on me. So my parents disowned me instead. To make sure they wouldn't be dragged down with me when it 'crashed and burned.' I believe were their exact words." Jake snorts, a bitter laugh, and I finally understand where his anger issues took root. The drugs obviously didn't help. "They were right, though. They were right about everything and if I hadn't been so...stupid, those poor people would still be alive and I could have a normal life." He sits back on his heels, jaw clenched, very much done with this impromptu heart-to-heart.

"Thank you for telling me," I tell him, and I mean it. He didn't have to share anything with me, especially since I was under the impression that he hated me. I'm not entirely sure why he did. After all, he seems to regard me with contempt and plain disgust the majority of the time. "And for the record, if we're playing the who's-crappiest game, I think I win by a long shot."

He, the Voice, and I realize what I've done at the same moment. I've willingly admitted to being a horrible human being, calmly and seriously, when I had prior seemingly taken so much pride in my murders.

Well, the Voice can't stand for that, now can it? We have to kill him because he's heard too much and we are one person there is no Voice there is just me and the crazy and I can never never ever forget that ever.

I lunge for him, this time with ill intent, face and emotion contorted with fury, when the door to my room slides open. Jake stands, placing himself far away from me, and I fall half out of my bed.

Nicole strides in. By the smirk on her face, she managed to catch the last few seconds. "Stop trying to socialize with her," she orders Jake as if I'm not right next to him, struggling back up into a sitting position. "We should be focusing on how to get through these tasks or Trials or whatever they are."

"We?" Jake asks, uncertainty lacing the one-word question. "The Albino made it sound like we're going to be pitted against one another."

"Xavier and I ran into that weird woman again. She said it's more of an individual points-based system than an all-for-themselves competition. We'll each be competing individually, but technically, we could team up and it wouldn't be against the rules."

"Well, damn. Now I'll have to use you all to my advantage instead of murdering you right off the bat. I would excel at that type of game," I mutter, still boiling at my failed attempt to kill Jake. Well, it wasn't much of an attempt, to be honest. And it was the Voice's attempt, not mine.

No, no, no. That's not right. We're the same person. I can't forget that.

"Oh, please. I'm at least five times your size," Jake jokes, a friendly teasing tone in his voice. At first, I think he doesn't realize what truly just happened, but there's a warning undertone to my voice that makes me realize - he knows I went for him out of anger this time and somehow, he finds it amusing.

He's onto us...we must kill him.

Well, remember how well that just worked?

"So, what do you say?" Nicole interrupts, looking annoyed. As Jake glances at her she plasters a coy smile on her face and delicately extends her hand. "Partners in crime?" Her voice takes on an incredibly flirty tone and I realize what's happening before it happens.

The Voice wants to make some childish jokes, but it is weakened again from her attempted show of force, and doesn't feel like fighting me.

"I don't know," Jake replies slowly, and I force the Voice down, thinking over and over it will be pain if I keep listening, it will be pain if I keep listening. Why it will be pain, I don't know. I just know it will hurt if Jake of all people falls for that false-flirty tone and plastic smile. He could do so much better than a vampire wannabe.

"Listen, I think it's cool and sweet and all that you're trying to include me, but..." Jake casts around for some way out of this awkward situation, sees me, weakly propping myself up on the pillow, and promptly screws things up even further. "Oh! Well, I already asked Sage, see..."

"And is that why she made that weak attempt to kill you?" Nicole snaps, all cordialness gone in an instant.

"Careful! She'll suck your blood!" I stage whisper out of the side of my mouth, and Nicole's lips thin as Jake glances at his lap and struggles not to smile. I can't tell if the joke was from me or it, but at least it amused him.

"She has an odd way of agreeing to things," Jake replies smoothly. "Sorry."

Nicole huffs out a short, annoyed breath and whirls on her heel, practically running from the room in her anger.

"She's pretty and around our age and actually seems normal, asides from her teeth and past gruesome murders," I say once the door is firmly shut. "Why - ?"

"Because I would rather work with you," Jake answers plainly. That stops me dead in my tracks.

"Why?" I demand, getting strangely upset. The Voice will make me hurt him if he tries to get close to me. I know it will.

Jake thinks about this for a moment. "You're funny," he finally replies simply, helping adjust me into a more comfortable sitting position.

We talk a little bit after that. Like normal people would. Before the Voice, I was a history buff. Turns out Jake was the same. He's a little further along than me, only having gotten caught recently, but I still give him a run for his money as we chat about various historical periods.

The Voice is oddly silent as we discuss the finer points of ancient boy band drama and outdated social media platforms. Maybe it thinks that it can hurt him more efficiently the closer he gets.

I hope desperately that this isn't its plan. I have forgotten how nice having a friend is.