When Worlds Collide

by Charles Blair

  Under extreme duress, Patrick clutched the car keys in his hand, and hopped into his SUV. Feverishly peeling out of the driveway, Patrick sped up to catch Joy. Within several blocks, Patrick was relieved when he located Joy's vehicle; although Patrick was reassured, he evoked thoughts of doubt. From the beginning, Patrick knew something of dire importance was going to happen at two thirty, but he didn't believe anyone was in danger. As he followed the taillights of Joy's car, he consistently glanced at the clock. And the clock was inching closer to that pivotal time. Unwanted, Patrick kept thinking; Joy's going to die in a car accident at two thirty.

  "No!" Patrick shouted, attempting to eliminate his dreadful thought. Continuing his self-talk, Patrick said, "It can't end like this, it just can't!"

  The roller coaster of emotion kept trucking every mile Patrick followed behind his treasured girlfriend. With tears wheeling down his face, Patrick clobbered his horn with hopes of snapping Joy out of her possessed state, but he knew, deep down; it wasn't going to work. Although Patrick realized his efforts were for nothing, he re-casted his high-beams repeatedly.

  Understanding the powerlessness of the situation, Patrick allowed fate to take its course. And when he saw the location of Joy's destination, Patrick perceived it as a gift from the Gods. Under my reign, Joy drove to Helping Hands Hospital. Parking at the front entrance of the emergency room, Joy trundled through the front door with her head down. Roughly two hundred yards behind Joy, Patrick anchored his SUV directly behind Joy's car. In such a rush, Patrick didn't close the door to his SUV, before sprinting into the hospital. Patrick wasn't more than four steps into the hospital, when his feet welded to the floor. Standing stationary, eyes expanded like an alien, Patrick and the rest of the emergency room witnessed my communication.

  The scene was off-the-wall outlandish. Remember, Joy was barefoot and in her underwear. Despite the fact, the hospital wasn't too terribly busy, the individuals who were there received quite a scare. Joy was standing in the middle of the large waiting area at exactly 2:30 a.m.., head down and eyes closed when she bellowed, in the most shrieking voice, "Help her! Patrick! Help her!"

  On the spot, Joy collapsed onto the floor, prompting Patrick to run to her aid. In a panicked state, Patrick slid across the floor, like a baseball player into second base, holding his beauty in his arms, as tears resurfaced on his face. As Joy continued to sleep on the floor, Patrick rocked her in his embrace until several doctors arrived at the scene.

  *

  When the doctors arrived is when things really got entertaining, for me at least. Now honestly, I'm not one who enjoys when people get angry. However, I get energized when I see Patrick blow a fuse. A little background, Patrick is probably the most calm and collective man on the planet. In opposition, when he becomes agitated, Patrick plows through confrontation better than anyone. Soon, you'll understand when I say, you don't want to get on Patrick's shit list.

  Inspecting the situation; Joy did look crazy, or possessed. I mean, for Christ-sake, she waltzed into the emergency room in her underwear, screaming at the top of her lungs. With-that-said, I understand where the doctors were coming from. As Patrick cradled Joy, who was still sleeping, two doctors stood over them. Doctor one; Funo Abina. Doctor Abina was in his mid-fifties, obviously middle-eastern, and known as one of the best doctors in the state of Pennsylvania. Doctor two; Vincent Pastorio. Doctor Pastorio was in his low-forties, arrogant, and a filthy womanizer.

  Before Abina or Pastorio spoke, Joy woke up. She hadn't a clue where she was, or what happened. With a quick startle response when opening her eyes, Joy flinched, and asked with confusion, "Where am I?"

  Still holding her, Patrick replied, and of course lied, "Sweetheart, you were sleepwalking again. However, this time, you actually drove to the hospital."

  Mind you, Joy didn't remember a second of my attack, so she was out-of-the-loop. Nevertheless, she was transparent enough to know Patrick's rationale was full of shit. Promptly, Joy captured Patrick's drift, and went along with his story. Joy quickly pieced together that the situation at-hand was caused by a spiritual attack, not sleepwalking.

  Playing along, Joy said, "I can't believe I did this. I've been a sleepwalker my entire life. Gee-wiz, this one was bad!"

  At that time, Doctor Abina's pager alarmed.

  "I have to go." Abina said to Doctor Pastorio.

  "Not a problem, I got it from here." Pastorio replied.

  Patrick and Pastorio went back to his office to discuss Joy's condition, while a nurse was checking Joy's vitals.

  "I would like to keep Joy here overnight for observation." Pastorio said to Patrick without hesitation.

  Obviously, Joy didn't need observation, nor any help from Pastorio. So politely, Patrick replied, "I appreciate your help and your insight, but I'm taking my girlfriend home now."

  "I don't think that's a great idea." Pastorio rebounded.

  And again, Patrick said, cordially, "I apologize; we don't see eye to eye, but I'm taking Joy home."

  Unprofessionally and passively, Pastorio asked, “What do you know about sleepwalking?"

  "Well Doctor Pastorio, I know everything there is to know about sleepwalking."

  Doctor Pastorio didn't have a clue what he was getting himself into, he should have kept his damn mouth shut, but he didn't.

  "Okay, whatever, and what is it that you do for a living?" Pastorio asked, expecting a different profession to rub in Patrick's face.

  "I'm a psychotherapist, smart ass."

  Doctor Pastorio wasn't backing down, and considering Patrick's night and emotional state, neither was he.

  "Okay Mr. Psychotherapist, I can have you arrested for neglect of Joy's medical care." Pastorio threatened with power and control.

  "Alright, I've been nice, but my frustration tolerance for you is as small as your penis." Patrick responded, as his blood began to boil.

  Under his breath and cowardly, Pastorio said, "Fuck you."

  Patrick remained calm, much calmer than Pastorio anticipated. Actually, Patrick was still, motionless, and gravely stagnant for fifteen seconds. And with much mystery and confidence, Patrick said, as Pastorio faded into his chair, "Stacey, your intern; I know you're having an affair with her. You meet every Tuesday night at the Corner House Hotel."

  Pastorio didn't say a word. He was stone cold, and completely staggered, because Patrick was one hundred percent correct.

  While the cat had Pastorio's tongue, Patrick’s mouth was running rampant.

  "Listen asshole, you will shut your god-damn mouth, release Joy from your care, and never cheat on your wife again. If you aren't smart enough to know how I got my information, then you're not smart enough to know anything about sleepwalking. And if you cross me, ever, you will find yourself sleepwalking into oncoming traffic.”

  *

  Sure enough, Joy was released from Doctor Pastorio's care.

  I'm hoping my explanation delivered you closer to my connection with Patrick. And if it didn't, don't worry, because you'll understand, in time.

  Isn't time one hell of a concept?

  Another interesting concept, how did Patrick know Pastorio was a cheating scum bag?

  Like I said, Patrick had a secret, and it was locked up like Fort Knox. Patrick's secret was the key that could open the door to my second chance, and allow my body to leave Mountain Springs Psychiatric Hospital.

  Chapter 15

  TWO OF A KIND

  The last thing I want to do is bore my audience with definitions and concepts. However, I'm under the impression many of you require consultation concerning a critical character flaw. The supposition I'm referring to is denial, please allow me to explain. Denial is a basic human defense in-which we lie or omit our thoughts, emotions, or behaviors. I'm satisfied saying everyone at some point in his or her life has engaged in this behavior. Don't beat yourself up if you're in denial, but know the truth goes with you when you die. I was in denial, hazardously, about what I did and who I was. I was afraid t
o show my true colors. I was terrified that no one would believe the truth. And if they did believe me, I doubted anyone would accept me, not to mention, lend a hand. What I'm saying, I was a liar. And you know what; although Patrick was sent to save me, he was one as well. Patrick's entombed secret gnawed at him like a wild animal, and of course he didn't want the entire world to know, but he wanted ever so badly to allow Joy into his world. But the thing is, Patrick's world was a bit different. I should know, because I've been there. Needless to say, I knew Patrick's secret, and he knew mine. Well, at least one of them. Today, Patrick and I will strip off our masks and go face-to-face, revealing what we have in common. Even so, before this can happen, Patrick had to learn to trust me. I know it's typically the other way around, but hell; this isn't your ordinary story.

  *

  I was in my room at Mountain Springs waiting for Patrick to arrive. I was keyed-up excited for my session with Patrick. Granting all this, I understood Patrick would make me earn my second chance, which meant Herculean work, but I was willing if he was. I was pacing back-and-forth, and every thirty seconds or so, I'd glance out of the window hoping to see his SUV. And five minutes before our scheduled time, Patrick zipped into a parking spot. Seeing Patrick's SUV pull into the parking lot placed a gargantuan smile upon my face. I'm going to be honest; I really liked Patrick, not in a weird way, but a big-brother kind of way. I thought Patrick was cool. He was new aged, athletic, intelligent, and trust worthy. However, in the same sentence, Patrick scared the life out of me because of his unpredictability and dark secret.

  Speaking of unpredictability, I wasn't ready, mind or body, for Patrick's demeanor toward me. Anticipating Patrick looking up towards my window, I expected him to greet me with a friendly smile and a head-nod, but unholy crap, I received the exact opposite. Although what he did was confused by me, and frankly, pissed me off, Patrick's fitful, disrespectful, politically incorrect, unethical, and rude gesture, displayed what I liked about his character.

  Patrick hopped out of his SUV with a disgruntled grin across his face and a freshly lit cigarette between his lips, as he walked in the direction of my window. I could tell right away, Patrick was beyond irritated. Walking swiftly, which was irregular for Patrick, he arrived at the base of my window puffing away on his nicotine stick. Smoking with his right hand, Patrick raised his left arm high in the air, and extended his middle finger at me, silently saying fuck-off! Immediately after flipping me the bird, he threw his cigarette butt toward my window. However, the light weight of the cigarette butt mixed by the wind never made it to my window. I thought to myself, what the hell did I do? Suddenly, I wasn't excited for my session.

  Laura escorted me from my room to the office where Patrick was waiting, and with a short-tone, Patrick said, "Thank you Laura. Please close the door now."

  By the feel in the room, I thought I was walking into my own execution. I had no clue what was about to happen.

  The second Laura closed the door; Patrick demanded, "Shawn, sit down, now!"

  Pronto, I found the closest available chair. Patrick went behind his desk, and rolled his swivel chair within a few inches of me. I was nervous with my voice box somewhere in my intestines, but I got a few words out.

  "What is going on?"

  "Your games are going to stop now!” Patrick said, shouting into my face.

  I was a frequently battered wife of a narcissist, lost and confused. I shifted my body a few inches away from Patrick.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Don't act stupid, you know exactly what I'm talking about." Patrick replied.

  Sincerely, Patrick could have been talking about cracker-jacks; I was that misplaced.

  I didn't know what to say, so I repeated, "What are you talking about?"

  "Jesus Christ Shawn, you made it personal by placing my girlfriend in harm's way."

  When Patrick mentioned his girlfriend, my heart felt damaged, because I thought, something terrible happened.

  Sympathetically, I said, hoping for a positive answer, "please tell me nothing happened to your girlfriend."

  Quietly, Patrick looked at me, and he was puzzled.

  I thought he was about to let loose more of his own issues, but he didn't. Instead, Patrick asked politely, "Shawn, will you hold both of your hands out for me?"

  I wasn't sure what Patrick was up to, but I complied. Both of my hands were open as Patrick placed his on top of mine. With our hands touching, Patrick looked deep into my eyes, and asked, "Did you astral project and possess my girlfriend?"

  Without hesitation, slowly and deliberately, I said, "I didn't possess your girlfriend."

  Patrick's face was a hardened piece of pottery, because he believed me. Wheeling his chair away from me to provide separation, Patrick owned-up to his responsibility.

  "Shawn, from the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry buddy, so sorry."

  *

  Right now, please allow me to pause and take a deep breath, before I get back to the rest of my session with Patrick. By now, you know one of my secrets, I'm an astral projector. I'm sure you're asking, what the hell is an astral projector? Don't worry, I'll explain in several minutes. I must admit what an incredible feeling it was when my secret was exposed. When we live in denial and hold onto something that must be shared, we carry the weight of the world on our shoulders. Although I have more secrets, a chunk of me was lifted into the heavens when Patrick called me out. To all of you, I'm strongly suggesting, someday, please let your secrets go. You'll feel better if you do.

  What is an astral projector?

  To start, I must identify the astral plane. The astral plane is the area between the physical and the spiritual world. The astral plane is the channel between both worlds. The astral plane runs parallel with the physical world, its counterpart, but without the concept of time. Whatever is happening in the physical world is also happening in the astral plane. However, since time doesn't exist in the spiritual world, the happening has already happened or hasn't happened yet. Our physical world can be altered by manipulating a situation in the astral plane. If a situation is manipulated in the astral plane that hasn't occurred yet in the physical world, when its counterpart manifests, it will either be altered or not happen at all.

  To clear things up a bit, allow me to use a metaphor of two adjacent highways. Pretend there are two highways running west to east across the same area, but separated by ten miles north to south. Picture these highways as an exact replica of each other with the same traffic flow. Whatever happens on the north highway happens on the south highway, because both mirror each other. The north highway is the astral plane, and the south highway is the physical world. The north highway cannot be seen, but it exists. The south highway can be seen. Since the south highway can be seen, we've created a false reality or illusion that we can control it, but we couldn't be more wrong. Actually, the north highway or astral plane that we can't see is the world we can control.

  For example, let's say an accident is to occur at four o’clock on the south highway. We can't prevent disaster from striking, but we put up expensive and ridiculous yellow signs with deer on them to do so. We don't know that the four o’clock accident is going to take place, not even the person involved. Suddenly, a deer runs in front of a vehicle, startles the driver, causing him to swerve and connect with a tall oak tree. We should already know we can't control the physical world; however, to reiterate, we can manipulate it from the astral plane.

  An astral projector is someone who can release their spirit into the astral plane.

  With-that-said, let's get back to our example. Imagine your spirit leaving your body, and traveling to the north highway. While on the north highway, you fluster the deer, as in runs in the opposite direction, preventing the accident. Alternatively, perhaps, you manipulate the driver instead of the deer, accident prevented. An astral projector can provide Christ-like good to the world if used properly. On the other hand, an astral projector can flip the world on its ass and create ha
voc. I'm an astral projector, and I use my gift to kill people. I killed Doctor Clarkston. I also killed another person, which is one of my other secrets. And before my story concludes, I'll kill one more.

  Without diving into more humdrum information, there's a layer of the spiritual realm beyond the astral plane, which is called, the Darkness. I'm honest as Abe when I say; I've never been to the darkness. Without reserve, I'm scared to venture into the darkness. Astral projectors, including me, typically never travel into the darkness, because there are sinister repercussions.

  *

  I’m not sure if the rest of the session was better than how it began. But, I can say with certainty that I didn’t expect what was about to happen. From day one, I knew Patrick and I had something in common, but to what extend, I wasn’t sure. However, and without a doubt, I know first hand, when Patrick breaks a seal, he doesn’t do it conventionally. You know, once in my younger years, I had an elementary school teacher say, “I’m not going to tell you how to do it, I’m going to show you.” Obviously, Patrick never had this teacher, but his next stunt followed her tutelage.