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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Horror / Scary
- Published: 11/18/2017
Meet Simon
Born 1964, F, from Gordon, ACT, AustraliaLachlan
“He killed someone, you know.” Eric Malcolm watched the young boy sitting in front of him swinging his legs back and forth.
“Your .. friend? Nathan? You’re saying he killed someone?” This was the first time this information had come up in their sessions, and the psychiatrist wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Lachlan nodded. “Yep. I had a little sister. He pushed her down the stairs and she died.”
Eric nodded and quietly made notes. “Was it on purpose, do you think?”
Lachlan shrugged and smiled. “He didn’t say.” He watched his swinging feet in fascination.
Eric decided to save that conversation for another time, maybe after talking with the mother to find out if something had in fact happened. It was too near the end of their session to start digging further now.
“Lachlan, is Nathan here now?” Lachlan nodded. “Yep, he’s always around. Telling me to be naughty. He tells me to steal stuff, and sometimes I do.” He stopped kicking his feet, and solemnly regarded the psychiatrist.
Eric nodded. “Okay, Lachlan. We’ve run out of time today. We’ll meet again next week, and we’ll talk some more about Nathan. In the meantime, you just ignore him if he wants you to do something bad, okay?”
Lachlan shrugged again, completely unimpressed. He jumped up obediently when Eric stood, and followed him into the waiting room. “I just need to have a quick word with your mother, okay? Can you play quietly for a minute?” Lachlan nodded and wandered over to the kids’ corner, where he picked up a book and pretended to read.
Michelle looked up as Eric approached her and sat down. “So how did he go?” She jerked her head in the direction of her child.
Eric chose his words carefully. “He said he used to have a little sister who died,” he said gently.
Michelle’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked away. “Yes. About four years ago. She was only three. Fell down the stairs and broke her neck,” she whispered.
Eric nodded thoughtfully and they sat quietly while Michelle gathered herself. “Is it possible that … it wasn’t an accident?”
Michelle didn’t answer.
Kerrie-Ann
“Hi, Kerrie-Ann. It’s nice to talk with you again. You’re mum tells me you’ve been getting upset a lot. Tell me what’s going on.” Eric leaned back in his chair and watched his young client struggle to form words.
“It’s Nathan,” she finally managed. “He keeps telling me to do bad things and I don’t want to so he keeps calling me names. I hate him!” Kerrie-Ann’s lip quivered, and she was unable to prevent a tear from escaping and rolling down her cheek.
“What kind of things does Nathan ask you to do?”
“He keeps telling me to say naughty words and he gets mad at me when I won’t. And he told me the other day to push this little kid over, but I didn’t. I keep telling him to leave me alone but he won’t go away!” She balled her little fists in her lap and tried to stop crying.
“Is Nathan here now?”
Kerrie-Ann cocked her head to one side in a listening gesture, then nodded. “He’s laughing,” she whispered.
Terrance
“Hi Terrance.”
Terrance glared sullenly at the doctor. “I didn’t do anything,” he frowned and kicked Eric’s desk.
“No-one’s saying you have done anything, Terrance. However your mother is concerned about your behaviour towards other children at school. Your teachers have told her that you have been bullying some of the smaller kids.”
“That’s bull!” Terrance jumped to his feet and paced around Eric’s office like a caged animal. He turned and faced Eric, his eyes shiny with angry tears. “It’s like this voice in my head telling me to do it, but it’s not me, it’s ... I can’t explain it.” He slumped back into his chair.
“So if it’s not your voice, whose is it?”
“His name’s Nathan. He tells me to do … stuff. And I do it. I don’t know how to tell him no.”
Eric felt a small chill, and surreptitiously rubbed the back of his neck.
“Is Nathan here now, Terrance?”
Terrance looked at him solemnly. “He’s always here.”
“Can I speak with him?”
Terrance cocked his head in a similar manner to a certain other young patient, and appeared to listen for a moment. He smiled, and shook his head. “Not yet, doc. Nathan said he’ll talk when he’s good and ready, and not before.” Terrance sniggered. “He also told me to tell you to go eff yourself, but that would be bad. Right?”
In the foyer, Eric sat and regarded Nathan’s mother before carefully putting his thoughts into words. Nathan was in his usual corner, pretending to read the same book.
Michelle turned to him. “So what’s your diagnosis? Doctor.”
“Nathan appears to have a splintered personality to cope with his subliminal urges to do bad things, and these urges surface as orders to his alter egos.” Eric paused, then continued gently. “It could also be that Nathan is making up these alter egos to provide scapegoats for his own actual and potential behaviour.”
“And you think this started when he was seven, and supposedly killed his little sister. Just in case he got caught,” she said in apparent disbelief. But she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “So what do we do now?”
“Nathan is extremely bright, I wouldn’t underestimate him. With your permission, I’m going to suggest to him that he is faking it, for want of a better term. Measure his reaction to my challenge.”
Michelle shrugged. “Whatever. Do what you think is best.” She picked up her bag, gathered her troubled little boy, and left.
Nathan
The room was dim and silent. Nathan sat on the chair directly in front of Eric, listening to his droning voice. His gaze looked through and beyond the doctor, focussed on something only he could see.
“Thank you for agreeing to talk with me, Nathan.”
Nathan shrugged, and slid his hands into his jacket pockets.
“Are you cold?”
Nathan shook his head and focussed on the psychiatrist.
“I’d like to talk to you about your alter egos. Your other personalities.”
Nathan looked at him blankly and finally spoke. “My what?”
Eric studied him. His puzzlement seemed genuine enough, but … there was something just off about the delivery.
“I’m going to give you some names, and I want you to tell me if you recognise any of them. Lachlan, Kerrie-Ann, Terrance.”
Nathan shook his head. “Who are they?” he asked innocently.
Eric patiently tried again. “These are the names you gave your supposed other personalities, Nathan. I’m trying to work out if they are real, or if you’re just making the whole thing up.” He was deliberately blunt, hoping to draw a genuine reaction from the boy.
Nathan giggled, a nasty sound that drove a bolt of unexpected fear into the psychiatrist. He leaned back hard into his chair to distance himself.
The giggling turned into uncontrolled laughter which stopped as quickly as it had started. Nathan leaned forward. “You know, you’re pretty stupid, for a doctor.”
“Why do you say that, Nathan.” Eric swallowed and hoped his fear wasn’t evident.
“Well for a start …” he paused, enjoying the moment. “I’m not Nathan.” He grinned at the look of confusion on the psychiatrist’s face.
“If you’re not Nathan … then who are you?”
The boy jumped to his feet, pulling the knife out of his jacket pocket.
“MEET SIMON!” He screamed into Eric’s face, as he plunged the blade into his neck.
“MEET SIMON!” He screamed, as he pulled the blade out again, hot bloody spray coating his face and hands.
“MEET SIMON! MEET SIMON! MEET SIMON!”
Meet Simon(Hazel Dow)
Lachlan
“He killed someone, you know.” Eric Malcolm watched the young boy sitting in front of him swinging his legs back and forth.
“Your .. friend? Nathan? You’re saying he killed someone?” This was the first time this information had come up in their sessions, and the psychiatrist wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Lachlan nodded. “Yep. I had a little sister. He pushed her down the stairs and she died.”
Eric nodded and quietly made notes. “Was it on purpose, do you think?”
Lachlan shrugged and smiled. “He didn’t say.” He watched his swinging feet in fascination.
Eric decided to save that conversation for another time, maybe after talking with the mother to find out if something had in fact happened. It was too near the end of their session to start digging further now.
“Lachlan, is Nathan here now?” Lachlan nodded. “Yep, he’s always around. Telling me to be naughty. He tells me to steal stuff, and sometimes I do.” He stopped kicking his feet, and solemnly regarded the psychiatrist.
Eric nodded. “Okay, Lachlan. We’ve run out of time today. We’ll meet again next week, and we’ll talk some more about Nathan. In the meantime, you just ignore him if he wants you to do something bad, okay?”
Lachlan shrugged again, completely unimpressed. He jumped up obediently when Eric stood, and followed him into the waiting room. “I just need to have a quick word with your mother, okay? Can you play quietly for a minute?” Lachlan nodded and wandered over to the kids’ corner, where he picked up a book and pretended to read.
Michelle looked up as Eric approached her and sat down. “So how did he go?” She jerked her head in the direction of her child.
Eric chose his words carefully. “He said he used to have a little sister who died,” he said gently.
Michelle’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked away. “Yes. About four years ago. She was only three. Fell down the stairs and broke her neck,” she whispered.
Eric nodded thoughtfully and they sat quietly while Michelle gathered herself. “Is it possible that … it wasn’t an accident?”
Michelle didn’t answer.
Kerrie-Ann
“Hi, Kerrie-Ann. It’s nice to talk with you again. You’re mum tells me you’ve been getting upset a lot. Tell me what’s going on.” Eric leaned back in his chair and watched his young client struggle to form words.
“It’s Nathan,” she finally managed. “He keeps telling me to do bad things and I don’t want to so he keeps calling me names. I hate him!” Kerrie-Ann’s lip quivered, and she was unable to prevent a tear from escaping and rolling down her cheek.
“What kind of things does Nathan ask you to do?”
“He keeps telling me to say naughty words and he gets mad at me when I won’t. And he told me the other day to push this little kid over, but I didn’t. I keep telling him to leave me alone but he won’t go away!” She balled her little fists in her lap and tried to stop crying.
“Is Nathan here now?”
Kerrie-Ann cocked her head to one side in a listening gesture, then nodded. “He’s laughing,” she whispered.
Terrance
“Hi Terrance.”
Terrance glared sullenly at the doctor. “I didn’t do anything,” he frowned and kicked Eric’s desk.
“No-one’s saying you have done anything, Terrance. However your mother is concerned about your behaviour towards other children at school. Your teachers have told her that you have been bullying some of the smaller kids.”
“That’s bull!” Terrance jumped to his feet and paced around Eric’s office like a caged animal. He turned and faced Eric, his eyes shiny with angry tears. “It’s like this voice in my head telling me to do it, but it’s not me, it’s ... I can’t explain it.” He slumped back into his chair.
“So if it’s not your voice, whose is it?”
“His name’s Nathan. He tells me to do … stuff. And I do it. I don’t know how to tell him no.”
Eric felt a small chill, and surreptitiously rubbed the back of his neck.
“Is Nathan here now, Terrance?”
Terrance looked at him solemnly. “He’s always here.”
“Can I speak with him?”
Terrance cocked his head in a similar manner to a certain other young patient, and appeared to listen for a moment. He smiled, and shook his head. “Not yet, doc. Nathan said he’ll talk when he’s good and ready, and not before.” Terrance sniggered. “He also told me to tell you to go eff yourself, but that would be bad. Right?”
In the foyer, Eric sat and regarded Nathan’s mother before carefully putting his thoughts into words. Nathan was in his usual corner, pretending to read the same book.
Michelle turned to him. “So what’s your diagnosis? Doctor.”
“Nathan appears to have a splintered personality to cope with his subliminal urges to do bad things, and these urges surface as orders to his alter egos.” Eric paused, then continued gently. “It could also be that Nathan is making up these alter egos to provide scapegoats for his own actual and potential behaviour.”
“And you think this started when he was seven, and supposedly killed his little sister. Just in case he got caught,” she said in apparent disbelief. But she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “So what do we do now?”
“Nathan is extremely bright, I wouldn’t underestimate him. With your permission, I’m going to suggest to him that he is faking it, for want of a better term. Measure his reaction to my challenge.”
Michelle shrugged. “Whatever. Do what you think is best.” She picked up her bag, gathered her troubled little boy, and left.
Nathan
The room was dim and silent. Nathan sat on the chair directly in front of Eric, listening to his droning voice. His gaze looked through and beyond the doctor, focussed on something only he could see.
“Thank you for agreeing to talk with me, Nathan.”
Nathan shrugged, and slid his hands into his jacket pockets.
“Are you cold?”
Nathan shook his head and focussed on the psychiatrist.
“I’d like to talk to you about your alter egos. Your other personalities.”
Nathan looked at him blankly and finally spoke. “My what?”
Eric studied him. His puzzlement seemed genuine enough, but … there was something just off about the delivery.
“I’m going to give you some names, and I want you to tell me if you recognise any of them. Lachlan, Kerrie-Ann, Terrance.”
Nathan shook his head. “Who are they?” he asked innocently.
Eric patiently tried again. “These are the names you gave your supposed other personalities, Nathan. I’m trying to work out if they are real, or if you’re just making the whole thing up.” He was deliberately blunt, hoping to draw a genuine reaction from the boy.
Nathan giggled, a nasty sound that drove a bolt of unexpected fear into the psychiatrist. He leaned back hard into his chair to distance himself.
The giggling turned into uncontrolled laughter which stopped as quickly as it had started. Nathan leaned forward. “You know, you’re pretty stupid, for a doctor.”
“Why do you say that, Nathan.” Eric swallowed and hoped his fear wasn’t evident.
“Well for a start …” he paused, enjoying the moment. “I’m not Nathan.” He grinned at the look of confusion on the psychiatrist’s face.
“If you’re not Nathan … then who are you?”
The boy jumped to his feet, pulling the knife out of his jacket pocket.
“MEET SIMON!” He screamed into Eric’s face, as he plunged the blade into his neck.
“MEET SIMON!” He screamed, as he pulled the blade out again, hot bloody spray coating his face and hands.
“MEET SIMON! MEET SIMON! MEET SIMON!”
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