My friend Amber had bought me tickets to see a local hypnotist. I was a complete non believer; I say was because what happened to me would make anyone believe.
The show itself was pretty non eventful, quite funny in places but nothing absolutely amazing. Yes he made people do silly things, he even did some magic and a couple of fortune telling tricks, but I still wasn't convinced it couldn't all be done with a bit of clever trickery or placement of people in the audience. After the show we went and had a drink in the bar and it was then that the evening really got interesting.
Crys, the hypnotist, approached us. Deep in conversation we didn't notice him silently approach until he was standing right at our table. He extended a hand to me and introduced him self, taking it I felt it was cold against my heat, "Hi, I am Ella; I thought the show was great!" He shook my hand, gripping his icy fingers around me, my hand feeling small and frail in his.
"You did not." He replied with a smile, I was taken aback, not realising I was such a bad liar. "That is fine; I do not expect everyone who comes to see me to believe in the power of hypnosis; that would make life very dull indeed." The smile never left his lips, and his eyes, unrealistically blue held my gaze, making it impossible to look away. "All I ask is that you give me the opportunity to prove to you that hypnotism is very real." A dramatic pause, "If you trust me that is."
And so I agreed, Amber so more excited than I was and buzzed around asking questions, giggling and being totally star struck by what was happening. We had moved to a smaller room off the side of the main bar area, just the three of us. After finishing our drinks Crys asked Amber to step outside. His excuse? He didn't think I could concentrate or fully relax with an 'audience' present. I was wary but was assured that Amber would be right outside, the door would not be locked and if at any point I became scared I could ask and Amber would be brought in.
He positioned me in a wooden upright chair. A small throw had been placed over the main seat and back to make it more comfortable and a step was placed under my feet in order to keep my legs comfortable and at right angles. Crys asked me to place my hands on the wooden arm rests and look up at the ceiling. Keeping my eyes open.
I rested my head back against the top of the back-rest. It was cushioned by the throw and was surprisingly comfortable. The ceiling was off white, almost yellow in colour in places presumably from the hundreds, possibly thousands of cigarettes smoked there over the past years. While I was staring, wondering how many cigarettes had caused the disgusting swirling patterns I was aware Crys was talking.
"Keep your eyes open, do not let them close. Concentrate on a spot on the ceiling, concentrate, do not let your eyes close." His voice was so smooth, calming and even. The sound of his voice seeming to follow the swirl of the stench on the ceiling, my eyes beginning to feel like they wanted to close, heavy as if I was more tired than I had been before.
"Keep your eyes open, even if they feel heavy and you begin to feel tired, do not close your eyes." He knew what was happening to me. I felt as though my limbs were becoming heavy, and yet it felt simultaneously that they were light as air. I could barely feel them. "Are your eyes now closed Ella?" He asked.
"Yes." I answered, not that I had been aware of it prior to the question being asked.
"Can you lift your right hand for me, Ella?" It was more of a command than a question, but I did as I was asked, I did the same when asked with my left hand.
"Ella, when I tell you too you are going to slowly bring your head forward to face me, when commanded you will open your eyes and look at me. Then you will close your eyes again and you will not be able to open them, even if you want to. Do you understand Ella?"