Just One Push

Just as a warning, there is French in here and since I used some craptastic free translator on google, I really don't know how accurate it is. So if there are mistakes, please tell me! I'll go back and change it. (I'm such a noob at these things... :O) Once again, I'm really sorry of the inaccuracies of the French in the story.

I walked down the white, sterilized corridor, hearing the clang of the little doors that connected the outside with the patients inside the padded cells. Today was Tuesday, and I had an appointment with prisoner 2013764, a new body.

I reached the patient's cell and the prison warden, who was with me, slid open the small peephole so that he could make sure that the prisoner wasn't doing anything that would endanger us before we entered. The warden nodded his head approving that it was safe to enter.

When I opened the door and entered the room, the patient's head snapped up to look at me. He was, like the other patients I saw, sitting in the corner of the padded room, arms behind his back because of his straight jacket. The only difference between him and the others, however, was that he didn't look like he had any psychological problems. He looked positively "normal" (if you could call him that). Once I was inside, the warden closed the door saying that he'll be back in two hours to let me out. I nodded back and then turned my attention to the patient's records.

Alfred F. Jones was a twenty three year old college graduate in the field of business. His personality was charming and he had the nicest, brightest smile I had ever seen in his picture that was given in the profile. When I looked at him now, that same smile seemed fake and plastered onto his face. I realized that Alfred was the type of person that you would want to be around because of his bright attitude and hero like aura. The thing is, why would he be here, at a mental hospital? I read some more of his documents and something very intriguing caught my eye. In search of a way to treat the young man, I decided to ask him about my interesting discovery.

"Hello Alfred. My name is Dr. Yao. I'm going to be analyzing you today."

He blatantly stared at me. The big, goofy smile that was on his face when I had arrived was still there. That smile, it made me very uneasy.

"It says here that you believe that you can see ghosts. Is that right?"

He slowly nodded his head and that plastered, artificial smile just got creepier in my eyes.

"Would you care to explain why you think you can see ghosts?"

"Not ghosts, just ghost."

"Pardon?"

"One ghost. I can only see one ghost. He's right there." He pointed to the space next to me. "He haunts me day in and day out and he never leaves me alone. When he laughs, it's a haunting, hollow sound. He followed me everywhere before I was put in here. Now, he just sits there smiling at me, taunting me with his eyes. I want him to go, to leave me alone and to stop tormenting me."

"When did you start seeing this…this ghost, Alfred? It says here that you started yelling about the ghost a few years ago…but I think that you might have known about him earlier. Is that true too?"

"Yes…yes it's true. I kept the knowledge of him from everyone in my family for years, except from my father. I would tell him when I saw the spirit and him being my father, a very strict man, he wouldn't believe me. When he got tired of my "lies", he put me in here to get fixed."

I nodded my head, finding Alfred's story intriguing. I thought to myself briefly of why he would believe that he was seeing ghosts. During my pondering, I came to a conclusion of how I was going to help him, through the use of hypnosis.

"Hmmm let's see…I think I'll use this." I said as I dug through my pockets looking for my pocket watch. When I found it, I pulled it out and hung it in front of Alfred's face.

"OK Alfred, I want you to look at the watch as it swings back and forth. When I ask you to, I want you to tell me about your childhood. I believe that it's the root of your psychological problem. When I figure out your problem, I'm going to snap my fingers and you'll be out of your trance."

I started to swing the clock back and forth. Alfred, following my directions, slowly watched the swinging pendulum. After a while, I was sure that he was hypnotized.

"Alfred, I want you to tell me about something significant your childhood."

"Alright," he said in a sleepy voice. "Seventeen years ago, I was six. My father was dating another man. He's gay, just so you know and I was adopted when I was very young. Anyway, that night was the day he was going out on a date with his boyfriend. My father was frantically trying to get ready. I didn't see him, since he was in his bedroom, but I could hear him moving things around, searching for items, stuff like that. He was so antsy. I on the other hand was in my room playing video games.

"When the doorbell rang, I heard him run down the stairs screaming "I'm not ready!" I paused my game and peeked out of my room. I noticed that his shirt wasn't buttoned and that his tie was loosely hanging around his neck. I watched as he opened the front door, which revealed my babysitter, Elizabeta, on the other side (I could tell by her voice when she greeted my father). My father knowing how much I liked my baby sitter called me down. I, of course, was incredibly excited so i ran down the stairs almost tripping in the process.

"'Alfred!' he scolded me, 'Don't do that! You'll fall and break your neck!"

"I laughed at the statement. At that age, I thought that I was invincible. Afterwards, I turned and casted my gaze on Elizabeta.

"She was beautiful sixteen year old and for six year old me, she was my first crush. I craved her attention and every time she came over I would demand her attention, whether it was for watching TV or playing videogames, or anything. She was so nice and lovely I couldn't help but say that she was mine.

"My father let out a sigh of relief, thankful that it wasn't his date. He turned to Elizabeta and started whispering to her. I was too entranced by her presence that I didn't pay any attention to what they were talking about. I saw her eyes light up and she clapped her hands together happily. She looked excited. I excused myself from the group and went to sit on the couch. From there I could watch Elizabeta and not seem suspicions.

When my father was done talking, he left to go and make himself more presentable, while Elizabeta joined me on the couch. Together, we watched TV. Thirty minutes later, I heard a knock at the door and for the second time that day, my father ran down the stairs to answer the door. This time however, he looked more presentable.

"My father's boyfriend was Francis Bonnefoy, someone he had met in college and had a somewhat love-hate relationship with. He was tall and spoke with a light French accent. He was a marvelous chef and he even owned his own restaurant. Though Francis and my father fought a lot, you could tell that they cared greatly about each other. Francis would send him roses every once in a while and my father would go and visit the restaurant.

"Francis had always wanted his own child to spoil, so he decided to adopt one. For the months before the date, he went through the adoption process and just the week before their date, Francis was told that his adoption process was finished. He was told that he could go and pick up his child, a young Canadian boy. Three days later, he drove up to Quebec and picked up four year old Matthew, his new son.

"When Elizabeta got up to go greet Francis, I went to follow her but I stopped short of actually going into the entry way. That was when I noticed that there was a small person standing behind Francis. He had brought Matthew over here!? I saw Elizabeta squat down so that she was eye level with the new boy and give him the brightest smile I had ever seen. I felt myself grow jealous of Matthew. He was taking Elizabeta's attention from me!

"Angrily, I watched as she gave Matthew a pat on his head as he hid his face in the fur of the white bear he held in his tiny hands. She then shook hands with Francis, greeting him and so on. I shuffled closer to the group of people so that I could somewhat hear what they were saying.

"'It's good to meet you, Elizabeta! I'm sure that Matthew here is as well! Unfortunately, he doesn't understand English too well. He's only been here a few days days. There's only so much you can teach in a short amount of time.'"

"'It's no problem Mr. Bonnefoy! I'm taking French at school so this presents me with an opportunity to practice.' Francis then turned to look at the little figure still standing behind him.

"Ok Matthew, je dois partir maintenant. Vous être un bon garçon pour Elizabeta d'accord?"

"I remember that I scrunched my face in confusion. I didn't understand a word he had said to the little boy. At the time, even though I heard what Francis had told Elizabeta about Matthew, I didn't comprehend that Matthew couldn't understand anything other than French.

"I saw the little boy nod his head and take a step forward into the house. To my astonishment, I saw her extend her hand towards the little figure and I watched him hesitantly take her hand. He was touching her hand! I felt more jealousy start to boil inside me.

"Il est bien." She said. "Vous pouvez vous fier à moi. Nous allons avoir un temps d'amusement ce soir!"

"Matthew smiled at her statement. My father them noticed my presence and beckoned me over to greet Francis and Matthew. I grudgingly walked over to the door.

"I greeted Francis and stared at Matthew, his small hand still clasped within Elizabeta's. My anger soon got the best of me and I furiously walked away to couch in the other room after my greeting while my father called me to come back.

"The two left shortly after and I heard Elizabeta walk with Matthew, speaking those strange words to him, to the kitchen. I heard music start to play and drift through out the lower level of the house. She said something to him and soon I heard his tiny feet pattering against the wood floor. They got closer to me every second. I then saw a little blond head, through my peripherals, come around the side of the couch and stop near where I sat. I turned my head and looked at the boy.

"'What do you want?' I asked him in the meanest voice I was able to produce. He said nothing and looked at me with wide violet eyes. He tucked his head into that stupid white bear that he was carrying and started to walk closer towards me. I then became astonished as I watched him try to climb up onto the couch to sit next to me. Did he not know what the words that I had spoken to him meant? I shoved him off the couch and watched him fall. I felt warm with victory as he looked up at me with watery eyes. He looked like he was about to cry.

"Matthew then got up and when he went to go rejoin Elizabeta I scrambled, not wanting him to go tattle on me and gain more of her attention. I ran up to him and grabbed his wrist. Before long, I had dragged the little boy up the stairs and into the master bedroom, while he struggled all the way. I threw him in and locked the door from the outside. I could hear him banging on the door and screaming words that I couldn't understand. I smiled to myself and left the younger boy upstairs to go and watch some more T.V. It was only five in the afternoon.

"By seven thirty, Elizabeta had finished making dinner and called us, Matthew and I, to eat. When Elizabeta saw only me at the dinner table, she asked about Matthew's whereabouts. I had totally forgotten about the other boy in the past two hours and thirty minutes. I instantly felt jealous. Even though he wasn't there, Matthew still stole Elizabeta's attention away from me.

"I shrugged and told her that I didn't know. She was instantly worried, instructing me to help her find the missing boy. We searched the whole bottom floor even though I knew the location of the boy. I choose not to tell her because I wanted to relish the time I could spend with her. When we searched the second floor, the master bedroom was searched last.

"When she opened the door, the sound of soft sniffles filled our ears. The room was dark since Matthew was too short to reach the light switch. Elizabeta flicked on the light and we had a hard time finding Matthew. When we discovered him, he was huddled in a corner crying to himself, clutching his bear. In my mind at the time, I thought that he looked so pathetic. Elizabeta on the other hand, did not share my ideals.

"I watched in horror as she left my side and ran over to Matthew, speaking those blasted words that I didn't understand. All I could recognize was the frantic "Matthews" that were scattered in her speech. She crouched down by the crying figure and rubbed his back. That's when I suddenly snapped. I still don't know why I did.

"I ran over to the little group and saw the white bear's paw out in the open. I took my chance and snatched it, pulling the bear out of Matthew's grasp. Somehow, when I pulled the bear out, Elizabeta was shoved to the ground. I think that I shoved her, I can't really remember. I quickly ran out of the room, knowing that Matthew would follow. My theory was proved correct when I heard Matthew's cry of displeasure and his light footsteps follow me through the hallway.

"I ran to the stairs and threw the bear to the floor at the bottom of the steps. The little boy managed to catch up to me and once he saw his bear on the floor he attempted to go down the stairs to retrieve it. It was then all my anger, all my jealousy towards the boy, rose up within myself and blinded me. In one unconscious move I pushed him, right as he was taking his first step down.

"The scream that I heard shortly after knocked me out of the jealousy induced trance that I was in. I looked down the stairs and I saw Matthew lying there, motionless, right next to his bear. 'Oh my God! Alfred! What happened?!' Elizabeta came running out of the room. How long had it been since I left the room? She ran down the stairs and lightly touched Matthew's still shoulder. He didn't move.

"'Alfred!' she yelled at me, 'Call 911! Quickly!' I ran to get the phone in the master bedroom. I quickly dialed the numbers. 'What is you emergency?' The question rang in my ear and it took me a while to answer the question. 'He fell! He fell down the stairs. Please send an ambulance! He isn't moving!' I yelled into the phone. 'Why did I feel this way?' I thought to myself. I hated Matthew! He was stealing my love away from me! So why did I feel empty on the inside? I gathered my thoughts together and gave the speaker the address of the house. They said that an ambulance was coming quickly.

I hung up and hurriedly ran back to Elizabeta, phone in hand. As I waited for further instructions, I jumped over Matthew's still form and handed her the phone. THat was when I noticed that she was crying.

"It felt like eons before we could hear the ambulance sirens when in reality it was only about five minutes. When the sirens were incredibly close, Elizabeta ran to the door and opened it, just as the emergency workers were running in with a stretcher. I watched as they ran to the fallen boy and checked his vital signs. One of the men looked to the other and nodded his head in a no fashion. Together they straightened out Matthew's body and pulled out a sheet from the stretcher. They unraveled it and placed it over Matthew. I heard Elizabeta wail and I knew that she was watching.

"They placed Matthew onto the stretcher and wheeled him out to the ambulance. One of the guys then came over and started talking to Elizabeta. She nodded, still crying and took me back into the house. She went and picked up the phone from the floor by the stairs and dialed a number. She walked out of the room and I could hear her talking. I went to the front window and looked on as the ambulance took Matthew away.

"About twenty minutes later, my father and Francis came home. My father was consoling the crying and distraught other man. When they walked in through the door, Francis spotted the white bear at the foot of the stairs and ran towards it. He fell to his knees and clutched the bear to his chest, tears streaming down his face. My father went up to him and placed his hand on his shoulder. I could only stand and observe from my spot by the window as my father tried desperately to comfort his emotional boyfriend. I managed to catch a little bit of what they were saying to each other.

"'Why Arthur? Why was he taken from me so quickly? I only had him for a few days! I was just barely getting to know him…Why? Why would mon ange be taken so fast from me? What did I do to deserve this? Tell me Arthur! What did I do?' My father was unable to give him an answer and the man resumed his crying. My father noticed me staring from where I sat and told me to go to bed. I nodded and understood that I had to leave, rushing past the men and up the stairs.

"I quickly got ready and went to bed. I remember falling asleep that night not feeling anything. No sadness, no remorse…no guilt. Just nothing. It was a strange feeling, the emptiness. Little did I know that my life would soon become a living hell…

"A few days later, Matthew's death was ruled an accident. The coroner ruled that Matthew had stumbled down the stairs and broke his neck when he hit the bottom. No one knew that I had pushed him down, that I was responsible for his untimely death. It was my darkest secret and I made sure that no one would find out. I locked the information within the darkest regions of my mind and forced myself to "forget" what truly happened. That was when Matthew's ghost began to follow me where ever I went."

I snapped my fingers, deciding that I needed to break Alfred out of his trance. I had heard enough. I could only think of that poor innocent boy. I quickly came to the conclusion of what the root of Alfred's problem is…It is the guilt that he has, the guilt of killing little, four year old Matthew. His guilt was what caused him to see the "ghost" of Matthew and as the years went on and the guilt within himself built up over the years, his torment to himself only grew.

"Alfred," I calmly stated, "You need to confess you crime. The reason you see the 'ghost' is because he is an apparition of your own mind. It's telling you to release your pent up guilt and memories. This information needs to get out and be heard. Please Alfred, you need to tell someone. Only then will you be cured of the curse you have made for yourself."

He looked at me, his mouth no longer formed into that pseudo-smile, and nodded. I took the tape recorder that I had started at the beginning of the session and pressed the stop button. I pulled out the tape and showed it to Alfred.

"See this," I showed him the little cassette, "This is the confession of your crime. I can give it to the police if you want. I'll tell them that you have confessed or you can tell them yourself. It doesn't matter which you choose, but you must choose one of them."

"I want you to do it." He looked at me in the eye. "I have something I need to do. Something important."

I nodded my head, agreeing with his statement. I had a feeling that I knew what he was going to do.

When I looked at my watch, I noticed that it had been two hours since the session started and as expected, a loud clicking noise was heard at the door. The warden pulled open the door and let me out. Alfred followed me, surprisingly, and caught the attention of the warden.

"I want to make a phone call. Will you let me?"

The man complied and pulled out his cell phone while I released Alfred's arms by untying the restraints. The guard handed the cell phone over to Alfred's outstretched hand. He took it gratefully and started to dial a phone number that I could tell that he knew by heart.

"Hey Dad," he said into the small device, "I have something important to tell you and Papa…Yes…Yes you have to come here...No! Please, I need to tell you guys. It's very important...Thank you! Just go to the front office when you get here and I'll meet you guys there."

He ended his call and closed the phone, handing it back to the guard. He turned around and looked at the corner of the room.

"I'm so sorry Matthew. You'll be able to rest in peace now. I'm going to face my actions and get what I deserve. I hope that you will or have forgiven me."

I turned and looked at the direction where Alfred was talking and then I saw him. A little figure with a bear in his hands sitting in the corner. When Alfred was finished, the little spirit boy let out a soft giggle, nodded his head, and suddenly disappeared.

"He's forgiven me. I will never know why...I was so cruel to him and yet he has forgiven me."

With that said, Alfred turned in my direction and smiled. This time it was real.

Why Mattie!? Why do I torture you so!? You're my favorite character and yet this is the second time that I've killed you off... :C

Translations (these are what I put into the translator):

je dois partir maintenant. Vous être un bon garçon pour Elizabeta d'accord?": I have to leave now. You be a good boy for Elizabeta ok?

"Il est bien."... "Vous pouvez vous fier à moi. Nous allons avoir un temps d'amusement ce soir!": It's ok....You can trust me. We're going to have a fun time tonight!

mon ange: my angel

Anyway...Wow, my first one shot. I'm sorry for the crappiness of it. This idea had come to me a few weeks ago and I tried to make it better but honestly, I really don't think that it came out the way I wanted it too...Oh well. Heart of Darkness has really effected me, seriously. Now I'm making a narration just like Marlow's...I am curious to know what you guys think about it though. Does it need any changes? Please tell me if it does since reviews are nice :D