Title: Listen to Me
Story Summary: Arthur Kirkland, a psychiatric doctor at Long Meadow Mental Hospital, gets a very interesting new patient, a young schizophrenic named Alfred F. Jones, a teen who was accused of a crime that doesn't know he committed. At least, that's what the voices in his head are telling him.
Pairings: USUK
Genre: Crime/Hurt/Comfort/Angst
Ratings: T for swearing, suggestive stuff from Francis's part in some chapters.
Disclaimer: I do not in any way, own Hetalia. It belongs to its respectable owner, Hidekaz Himaruy
Notes: Well, since I've had wicked bad writers block all summer (hence the reason why I haven't updated any of my stories in a month) and it will probably clear once I get this up or after school begins, either one, I have decided to write a new story! *Insert fan-fare here!* This is hopefully going to be one of my best stories ever since this is the first story I've actually planned out. *Gasp here* Yes, I don't actually plan out my stories, but thats not important right now. Right now what's important is that I stop rambling and you read this!
Seventeen year old Matthew Williams always lived his life to the fullest capability that he could. Though his usually life consisted of hiding behind a small, invisible wall that blocked him from the rest of the world, he always had at least one person to break that down for a while before it was rebuilt and Matthew Williams was known as a no one once again.
He had the same routine every morning. At 5:30 A.M, his alarm clock would go off. He'd grumble a bit, swearing at the inanimate object that he would do terrible things to its mother once he got his hands on it, before finally slamming down on the snooze button and falling back asleep for at least a half an hour.
After finally waking up and taking a long, hot shower, Matthew would rummage in his clothing pile, which was located in the far corner of his room, trying to find a pair of jeans that actually fit him and that weren't covered in stains. Then he'd do the same with his shirts before settling on a white-supposedly clean-shirt and his infamous red sweatshirt that had 'CANADA' in thick, black letters on the front and a maple leaf on the back.
He'd walk around his bed, petting a small, polar bear stuffed animal he had resting on the end of his bed (What did he name the thing again? Kumakachi?Kumosura?) before grabbing his phone off of the nightstand. A message from Lars flashed on the screen and Matthew would instantly reply.
Lars
Dude, where the fuck r u?
Matthew
Gettin ready. Are you outside?
Lars
Yeah. Gilbert's getting a bit impatient so u might want to hurry.
Matthew
Ok. B there soon. Make sure Gil doesnt run off again.
Lars
Kk
Shoving the crappy excuse for a cell phone in his sweatshirt pocket, Matt grabs his backpack thats hanging on the door handle and slugs it over his shoulder. He hopes that his mother isn't up, because every time she is, she's making breakfast, and knowing his own mother, she'll make him eat before leaving.
Matthew didn't have time for that today.
He silently makes his way down the stairs and peers into the kitchen. At first, he sees no one and begins to thank god that he won't be late to school for once, but then he hears a faint humming. His mother comes into view with a spatula in one hand and a bowl in the other.
"I can see you, you know," she giggles lightly, waving to Matthew to come into the kitchen. He points to the door and tries to explain that he's probably going to be late if he doesn't hurry, but she turns before he can say a thing.
"Mom, I've got to go meet up with Lars and Gilbert, I don't have time to eat today." Matthew's mother doesn't respond and he sighs. Shaking his head, he takes a seat and waits for his food.
After a few minutes, a fresh plate of pancakes are in front of him along with a tub of butter and a bottle of maple syrup. Being the picky child he is, Matthew doesn't like certain brands of maple syrup and will throw a fit when needed if he hates the flavor.
He scarfs it down in only five minutes before grabbing his bag and rushing towards the door. His phone had gone off seven times and Matt hopes that Lars and the others haven't left without him.
"Bye mom," Matthew waves to her. Just as he's about to shut the door, he hears her say back, 'Have a nice day at school, Alfred!'
When the door closes, Matthew sees his own reflection in the oval shaped glass. He is no longer wearing the red 'CANADA' sweatshirt; instead he's wearing a dark blue t-shirt with an American flag on the front. His hair is shorter than before and his eye color has drastically changed from a violet to a clear blue.
Matthew brings and hand up to touch his face before it all sets in.
He is not Matthew Williams.
I'm sorry...
He is Alfred F. Jones. A teen who is physically and mentally the opposite of Matthew Williams.
Why did you do it?
So then, why doesn't he believe that is so?
Please, tell me why!
Why does he believe that there is something more?
I-I can't say...
Why does he believe...
Please! I need to know!
...That they are actually one?
...I wanted you to be with me, forever and ever...
"So you say you have this dream every night, Mr..." Arthur looked down at the folder in his hands, then back up to Alfred, "Jones?"
Alfred nodded. "Yeah. I don't know why though. It's weird, every night, it switches."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Switches? What do you mean by 'it switches?'"
"Like people, I think I'm a different person every night, but then my 'Mom' tells me goodbye when I leave for school and I snap back into reality."
"Can you tell me who else you think you are?" There was a minute of silence before Alfred spoke.
"Well, first there's Mattie, or if you want to be technical, Matthew Williams. Then there's Roderich Edelstine, Kiku Honda, Sadiq Adnan, Gilbert Beilschmidt, and Lars. I have no idea what his last name is, I only know his first name."
Arthur nodded and finished writing down all of the names that he was just told. "Do you know anything about any of these people, Mr. Jones?"
Alfred fidgeted in his seat, moving so that his leg hung off the arm and his elbow was on the other. "No, at least, I don't remember. I don't remember much these days for some reason."
"Are you sure you don't remember?" The teen in front of him thought it over for a moment before shaking his head.
"Nope. Nothing comes up. Why?"
Arthur sighed and got up from his seat. "Mr. Jones, all of the teens you have listed, as far as I know, have all died. Do you know who they think did it?"
"No. Dude, why are you telling me this? I'm starting to get a bit freaked out."
"Mr. Jones, do you wish to know who they think did it?"
A shot of cold ran up Alfred's spine as he nodded. "Y-yeah, I guess..."
"Well, then, I'll tell you then," Arthur walked to Alfred's side and held his shoulders. The poor boy was shaking. "Mr. Jones, they think it was you."
Final Notes: :D Never leave me with my IPod. It contains the weirdest songs to which I get ideas from. I actually got this idea from 'My Guardian Angel' by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. I have no idea how this came to mind by listening to that, but W.E. I honestly can't tell if it's creepy or not, since I am no expert on that quite yet. Let me read some more horror fanfics and watch a few scary movies and I should have a good grasp on what I think is scary and creepy~
-Mighty-