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Rated: E · Short Story · Dark · #1646352
A psychiatrist is haunted by a former patient.
"Okay, and that's that Alice, your session is finished." I say, looking at my watch. "Goodbye and see you next week."

She sits for another couple of seconds and then rises. She's got a form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, little things bother her a lot. As she walks to the door she turns the picture of my family that I keep on a desk to face forward and then walks out. I stand up and walk over to my desk.

"Would you send in my next appointment please, Shannon?" My receptionist, very nice.

"Sure thing Mr. Jacobs." she replies.

After a couple seconds the knob on the door turns and in enters a man that I've never seen before in my office. I look at my clipboard to confirm and sure enough this is his first session. He looks emaciated, he's extremely pale and it contrasts with his hair which is jet black. He fidgets a little, and I take note of that, he seems to be looking around.

"So, what is your name?" I ask after he sits down.
"Huh? Uh... it's J-Jack. Yes, Jack, Jack Cross. Yes, Jack Cross!"

He looked seriously disturbed, he constantly looks around and he seemed to be talking to someone else besides me. Schizophrenia? Multiple personalities? Maybe he's just looking for drugs, he looks like he could be a drug addict.

"So, Jack." He tapped his fingers on the chair over and over again. "Why exactly are you here?

"Well... you see, I hear... people. Sometimes see. There's a man in that corner over there for example." He points to an empty corner of the room. "He's... staring at me. He's not there is he? I... can't tell most of the time. They look so real... so lifelike." He covers his face with his hands.

"Is he talking to you?" I ask. This guy is seriously disturbed.
"He... yes, he is. I try not to listen but... it-it's hard to not. Go away!" He begins to sob.

"What exactly is he telling you to do, Jack?" I try to keep my voice calm, this guy's dangerous.

"He wants me to hurt you. To take you out of this world with... a bullet in your head. Murder-suicide, easy, fast, painless. I've... managed to ignore it for as long as I can remember... but it's been getting stronger lately... harder to not listen."

I've been getting more afraid of this man as he continued. Is he going to try and kill me? Where would he get the gun? Does he have one on him.

"Do you have a gun on you right now?" I ask him as calmly as I can manage. He replies that he doesn't. "Then where does this man want you to get the gun?"

"4793. The gun behind... that painting." He points to a painting of 'Starry, Starry Night' on the wall behind my desk. "Are you going to help me?"

"How... how do you know that?" I was seriously scared then, I was afraid for my life. He stood up and started towards the painting. At the same time I jumped up and ran towards the phone. As I dialed 911 and waited he got rid of the paining, put in the combination, and opened the safe. As he reached into the safe I ran from the phone, took up the chair I was just sitting in, and broke it over his head. He slumped to the floor, dropping the gun that was in his hand, and went back over to the phone.

"Sir... sir, what is your emergency?" asked the other end of the phone.

"Yes, I was almost shot by a patient that I'm seeing. I managed to knock him out though, would you come over? The address? It's 5988 Third Street. Yes. Uh... yeah. Okay, thank you." My receptionist ran into the room while I was on the phone and was looking extremely worried.

"I heard a loud crash so I came in." She looked over to the man crumpled on the floor with the gun laying next to him.

"He went for the gun, knew the combination to the lock somehow. Managed to knock him out though. Everything's okay, the cops are on the way."

How the hell did that guy know the combination to the safe? And for that matter where it was in the first place. It's very well hidden. And his claims... auditory and visual hallucinations. A man standing in the corner of the room. I look to the corner and get a chill up my spine. Well... this will all be over in a little bit.

When the police arrive my receptionist and I tell them everything. Basically that the patient opened the safe and reached for the gun and I hit him over the head with the chair. They did ask how he knew the combination but I just admitted that I didn't know the reason and they seemed to just leave it alone. Took about two hours all in all and I headed home, just need a good night's sleep.

The dream I had that night was strange. It just went through everything that happened during the session, the only thing that was different was that there was another man in the room. He started in that same corner Jack was pointing at, though he moved steadily closer, and when he said the combination to the safe the man was... standing right next to me. He was dressed in a black suit with a blue tie, his hair was blonde. His clothes were torn though for some reason and he had some injuries on his face and hands. Just the sight of him made me shiver. He was gone when I knocked Jack out, and then I woke up. I didn't really think much of it, I mean it was just a dream right?

The next day I went to work just like I normally do, saw all my regular patients and they all seemed to be moving along quite nicely. No new faces that day, and thank God, I don't think I could've stood another new face after what happened the day before. Six o'clock couldn't come fast enough, though, I said goodbye to my secretary as I left, she usually leaves a little after I do.

A horrible sight enters my vision as I pull into my driveway... my front door is wide open. Needless to say that I was extremely scared. I step out of my car and approach the front door, as I walk through I look all around, but there's nobody there. I continue to walk forward slowly, dreading confronting the burglar, when I feel the coldness of metal touch the back of my head. Reacting quickly I reach out and try and grab a vase on the glass table by the door but-

"Don't even try it or you'll lose your head." he says.
"Who are you? What do you want?" I reply, trying to stay calm.

"'Starry, Starry Night'. 4793. Ring a bell?" I remain silent. "Nothing to say? C'mon, lets sit down."

We walk into the living room and he motions me to sit in the armchair while he sits in the couch opposite. I just stare at him and he does the same to me. Finally he speaks.

"Why the silence? You don't want to know why I'm here? Not like it really matters, you're going to die either way. Though I expected you to be a little more curious."

"You're here to rob the place. I already know." Like there's a higher purpose.
"Rob? I don't want your money!" he smiles. "My name is Robert Cameron. You don't remember? You refused to help me and because of you I died."

"Robert. Yes, he was one of my patients. He was in a car crash a couple months back, though they couldn't find a cause of the crash. You're not him. What are you trying to pull?"

"Oh, but I am him." He waves the gun around in front of his face. "Yes, I died in a car crash but I remained here for some reason. A soul I guess you could call me. That Jack Cross, I made him think he was hallucinating. Was pretty easy since as you know I was hallucinating as well, I know how it works. Those stupid hallucinations. This guy just appears in the seat next to me as I'm driving with a knife and tries to stab me, though now I know he wasn't really there. And you refused to help me with my problem! You just dismissed me as another guy looking for drugs!" He jumps up and stand in front of me, pushing the gun into my face. "YOU COULD HAVE SAVED MY LIFE! But you just brushed me aside like a common drug seeker. I was mentally unstable, my mind shattered, and you refused to prevent my death."

Unbelievable. A troubled spirit walking the Earth after death? Possessing people to go after me? But he knows so much about me and Robert, there's really no other explanation. Guilt fills my mind, though I'm not sure if my apologizing will help anything.

"I... I didn't know, Robert. You didn't seem like you had anything wrong with you and you fit the bill perfectly for someone looking for drugs. I can't be perfect, I'm only human, but killing me won't bring yourself back to life. You just have to accept what's happened, move on, killing me won't solve anything. Please. Don't do this." My voice quivers as I speak, I'm honestly begging for my life as I know I messed up.

"Just move on!? Just accept your taking my life and just walk away?" His hand was shaking as he held the gun and tears fall down his face. "M-my life is gone! You took it from me! And I'm just supposed to walk away?"

An idea enters my mind while he's talking. He's an intruder in someone else's body, what if I can wake the rightful owner's consciousness?

"Push him out! Don't let him use your body any longer! You can save my life, just fight!"

"What the hell are you blabbering about? Your judgement has come and it's your turn to die." He flinches his arm but it refuses to move. "What... what's going on?"

"That's right! Fight out the intruder!" I scream, to the bewilderment of Robert. All at one his body goes limp, its head turning upwards and it hangs there, as if suspended by something. Then a blue light starts seeping out of the eyes and up towards the ceiling. The entire room illuminated blue, I'm left in awe, the light shoots up through the ceiling and vanishes. After a fraction of a second the body collapses to the floor, the event over. I rush over and wake the poor man up.

"What am I doing here?" he whispers, as if coming out of a sleep.

"Don't worry about it man, everything's fine. Just leave and go home." He stares at me for a second but then gets up and walks out of the house, I could tell that he had no idea what had happened. I felt free, as if a burden had been lifted from my shoulders.

The eyes. The blue light came out of the eyes. I've got to say that that's the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me in the 45 years that I've been on this Earth. But the eyes, that just bewilders me. I guess that they do say that eyes are the windows to one's soul...
© Copyright 2010 Kairouseki (kairouseki at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/1646352-Shattered-Psyche