It's Tuesday and for reasons that are still beyond me, I once again find myself waiting patiently in the office of Grace, the hypnotist. The clock on her wall, which is ticking louder than any clock should, reads 3:15 which means that it's either wrong or she is running late. I get a sense of deja-vu as my fingers tap against the arm of the chair. I try my hardest to rationalise why I'm here but my mind fails to deliver so much as one reason as to why I would ever return. Am I getting paid? No, I didn't even get paid for the last session. Do I need to see a hypnotist? Absolutely not! If I wanted someone to rummage around inside my head, I'd pay a professional who went to university and received the proper training. I mean I would be lying if I said there wasn't a certain thrill to what happened last time but the thrill and pleasure were certainly outweighed by the shame and disgust that lingered on my brain and in my mouth for the following days.
As I let out a loud and exaggerated sigh, I hear the sound of heels tapping against the stone floors outside the office. Walking past the window without so much as a glance inward is Grace. Her familiar and fierce-coloured hair appears to light up the corridors like a flaming torch. As she opens the office door, I can't help but feel a slight flutter of excitement as my heart appears to speed up momentarily: Although that feeling could just be the caffeine from my coffee beginning to kick in. I'll extend her the courtesy of hearing what she has to say but I'm not hanging around for another session and I'm certainly not returning for a follow-up. This woman is clearly some sort of con artist and it takes a much smarter mind than hers to get the better of me, I'll tell you that right now!
The room stays completely silent and despite the fact that I've been starting right at her since she walked in, Grace hasn't so much as glanced in my general direction. She drops her bag onto the table, rummaging around its contents until she pulls out her pen and notepad like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Her pale skin appears even paler in contrast to the dark black dress that she's wearing today. It looks elegant, as if she is heading straight to a fancy party or banquet immediately after this session. It did fit her body perfectly though! I can see every perfect imperfection and as I scan her up and down, I can't help but admire the hourglass shape that her body takes on. She definitely looks after herself and if there is a God in this world, he spent a lot of time moulding her. I begin to picture giant hands forming the curves of her body, not letting one single detail be anything less than perfect.
"Whenever you've quite finished staring at me, we can begin!" she says, breaking the silence without warning. I glance up to find her dark green eyes looking directly at me. She doesn't so much as blink as our eyes connect. I force myself to look away in order to break the intense eye contact.
"Sorry..." I tell her, knowing all too well that she wasn't looking for an apology of any sorts. I mostly say it just to break the tension a little bit. So you can imagine my surprise when I hear her response.
"I'm the one who should be apologising" she explains, "I told you my friend would be joining us today but after reviewing your notes from last week's session, I decided that you aren't quite ready yet". She's now sitting directly opposite me which is strange as I didn't once see her move from her standing position behind her desk. One of her legs is crossed elegantly over the other and her open notepad rests on top of her leg. Her heels, which are just as black as her dress, rest neatly together on the floor. When did she take them off? Her bare toes distract me. I can't help but watch as they relax and contract as she rubs them into the black rug underneath. I glance back up and find myself staring straight past Grace to the window. The blinds are closed...but they were definitely open earlier as that's the same window I saw her through. What the...
"Today, we're going to try something a little different from last week. Today, I'm going to install some triggers. In fact, I may have installed some of them already!" she says with menacing intent, the right side of her mouth flicking in and out of a smile as quick as a flash. My mind is already wandering but I can't help but feel a sense of comfort within her eyes.
"Good, stare into my eyes!" she commands me, my eyes already locked onto hers. "Nothing can distract you; nothing can break your concentration. The longer you look, the less capable you feel of looking away!" her words flow across the room and into my ears, like silk handkerchiefs blowing gently in the wind. I notice her tone rising and falling and all the while I stare deeper and deeper into those green eyes of hers. I keep telling myself it's just a trick. I keep telling myself that if I really wanted to look away, I could. Yet, I don't. With each passing moment I find myself noticing new intricate patterns within her iris. I follow the spirals and flakes of colour all the way around without so much as fleeting between one eye and the other.
"Good...Good" she tells me, her voice acting like a lullaby that is beginning to gently soothe me to sleep. My eyelids grow heavy and I find myself having to actively concentrate on keeping eye contact. Another brief smile flickers across her face. "Allow your eyelids to close if they need to and let your body rest back into the chair as it begins to grow heavy and relaxed!" Almost immediately I feel my shoulders slump into my body as head drops down into my chest. Suddenly I find it impossible to lift my arms up and they both roll off the arms of the chair landing heavily into my lap. My eyes slam shut and I begin to feel the embrace of the darkness behind them.
"When I click my fingers, you will sleep" she says, her words echoing around the room as if we were in some sort of cave, "only your subconscious mind will hear what I have to say and you will only wake up when you I tell you to!" There's a pause and once again silence appears to flood the room. The dark space behind my eyes begins to feel less friendly and welcoming and I start to realise that I don't like it. I feel trapped! I try in vein to open my eyes, to lift my arms, to stand up from this chair, but each attempt to move makes my body seem less and less connected to my mind.
*Snap*
The sound echoes through my mind and crashes against me like a powerful tsunami of darkness. I can't see anything, I can't feel anything, and yet I am acutely aware that my "space", if you could call it that, in my own mind is running out. This moment reminds me of the trash compactor scene from Star Wars but instead of closing walls, there is enveloping darkness. I begin to feel claustrophobic as my metaphorical cave floods with darkness, until little by little I begin to sink under the surface, fully engulfed by Grace's power.
...
*Snap*