After Patrick cleared the air and apologized to me, he was relatively quiet. If smoke could generate from our minds, Patrick’s would’ve released cloud-like toxins that resembled a meth-lab. His inner mischievous spirit was dying to come out and play. Until this point, Patrick’s undisclosed capability has been unknown, and quite frankly, Patrick was worn-out trying to keep it that way. Besides faltering in Doctor Pastorio’s office, Patrick has held true to his pledge. And shortly, I’ll bring you up to snuff, but for now, let’s carry on.
*
Back in my bedroom
Sitting on my bed, I was waiting for Patrick to move along with the session. After clearing the air and apologizing again, Patrick and I were cool. I wasn’t mad at him for thinking that I was responsible for Joy’s possessed sleepwalking adventure. I chalked it up to a misunderstanding. Patrick and I were on the same page. We knew for sure that there was a third party involved. Someone brought Patrick to me. And someone is haunting Patrick and Joy. Was it the same spirit? Only time will tell.
For Patrick’s secret, time was running out.
On my bed, I was silent.
Patrick, who was sitting on a chair near the base of my bed, was also silent.
Waiting for him to speak, I became uncomfortable, because I wasn’t a huge fan of the muteness that took over the session.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” I asked, enjoying the sound of my own voice.
“Shhh,” Patrick replied, insinuating for me to be quiet.
I endured the awkwardness of the situation for another minute or so, when Patrick finally said something.
“Can I trust you?”
“Yeah, why do you ask?”
“No, can I trust you, really trust you?”
“Of course you can.” I said without understanding where Patrick was going with all of this.
“Alright then,” Patrick replied.
Patrick flipped to a clean page in his notebook. Turning the notebook around so the top of the page was facing me, Patrick placed it on his lap. Clipped to the pocket of his shirt was a pen. Pulling the pen from his shirt, Patrick uncapped it, and secured the cap to the bottom of the pen. After placing the pen on his notebook, he sat motionless, and stared at me.
What the hell is wrong with him? I thought, not knowing what to do.
Penetrating me like a pencil shredding through an electric sharpener, Patrick’s eyes didn’t leave me for a second. His body, every inch of it, was frozen. He looked like a Halloween prop on a porch, waiting to come alive and scare me to death.
Thinking, I’m going to tap Patrick on his arm, I stood up from my bed. When my feet hit the floor, my entire mind was erased.
Under the supremacy of a much stronger spirit, when my feet touched the floor, I carefully walked towards Patrick. Standing directly in front of him, I bent down and began to write in Patrick’s notebook, all the while, I never disconnected my eye contact with him. When I was finished writing, I tore the page from the notebook. Placing the notebook and pen exactly in the same spot Patrick had it; I took the page into my bed and immediately fell asleep. As I drifted to sleep, Patrick stood up from the chair, and with his notebook and pen, he exited my bedroom.
*
I woke up a few hours later, and instantly saw the notebook page on my pillow.
The page read:
As you can see, this letter is written in your handwriting. And although you don’t remember doing so, trust me, you wrote it. By now, you should understand what we have in common. I need you to comprehend, anything you can do I can do better. From this moment forward, you and I must work as a team. There’s a greater purpose, and for you to understand it, I need you to face who you are, because in the end, we’re two of a kind.
Sincerely,
Patrick Lucid
Chapter 16
WORSE BEFORE BETTER
Have you ever heard the saying, Things are going to get worse before they get better? I'm not sure who to quote, but whoever said this adage was most definitely correct. And holding true to form, my story is about to make some significant turns, leading Patrick and Joy down roads of frustration. The emotion to come will do one of two things. One, the emotion will mold Patrick and Joy together, creating an inseparable relationship. Alternatively, two, the emotion will divide them like a child solving a sophomoric math equation. Things are about to get worse, much worse.
Throughout my existence, and Patrick's too, I heard many people say, I want this, or I want that. However, the mass majority of those people weren't willing to put forth the effort to get what they wanted. And for those who did, once they got whatever it was, quickly realized they never wanted it in the first place. Once someone captures something they want, it isn't long until the novelty wears off. Eventually, he or she connects the dots, choreographing an image of what they gave up. Joy wanted my spirit exorcised from her life, and Patrick wanted answers. The questions are what was Joy willing to sacrifice to rid my spirit from her life? And two, what was Patrick eager to surrender? I'll wait until the end of the story to answer this for Joy, but for Patrick, he had to resign his secret.
You and I both know Patrick is an astral projector, but Joy didn't. Since birth, Patrick could travel into the astral plane whenever and wherever he wanted. Patrick's ability is a gift, and like most gifts, the line separating it from becoming a curse is extremely thin and easily crossed. I'm not sharing Patrick's life-long adventures in the astral plane because it's not my responsibility. Someday, if Patrick wants to share those stories, he will, but like everything else, he must sacrifice something to do so. Nevertheless, pertaining to my story, I will divulge a few explanations.
Many of you are scratching your foreheads, wondering if the astral plane is real. I am not telling you what to believe, or what not to believe. All I will say, once you experience something, there's no going back. For the moment, I want to provide you with a basic description of the astral plane. If you could witness it, you would see a colorless interior. Although the astral plane is drab, the emotional energy felt within is magnified into its purist and original form. Imagine capturing every ounce of destruction, caused by a chaotic and bloody massacre, into a glass bottle. After capturing the destructive energy, you drink the boiling madness until the morbidity disillusioned your bloodstream. If you could do this, you just might feel a fraction of the emotion felt in the astral plane. Realizing I used a negative example, the magnification of emotion in the astral plane, also holds true for love and happiness. Either way, once you experience it; life is never the same.
Speaking of life-altering experiences, Joy's life hasn't been the same since I entered the picture. Everything I've tried to communicate to Joy hasn't been appreciated, and truthfully it's pissed me off. Instead of buckling down, Joy has allowed her emotion to steer her into a state of panic, ignoring what Patrick has been attempting to explain, and what I've been trying to correspond. For example, the other day while Patrick was with my body at Mountain Springs, I decided to pay Joy a visit. Joy, who was fresh out of the shower, swiped the moisture from the mirror, and then brushed her teeth. When she smiled at her reflection, checking the cleanliness of her teeth, Joy noticed she didn't have any teeth at all. Abruptly, Joy flung herself backwards, dropping her toothbrush into the toilet, then screamed her lungs out, demanding my spirit to leave.
Have you ever taken time out of your day to speak with someone, and in return, they fire back at you, wanting you to leave? If you have, then you know exactly what I'm talking about. It doesn't feel good! As a matter of fact, it hurts. Not everyone experiences communication from the spiritual realm throughout his or her life, but those who do, more times then none, want the spirit gone immediately. It's terribly unfair, but then again, what isn’t? I was doing my best to forewarn Joy and build her strength, so in the end, she wouldn't be blindsided. Though, if it's a surprise Joy wanted, it's a surprise she’s going to get. I had a plan, a purpose, and my-God it was going to be fulfilled.
You may
be thinking, I'm a liar, but I never killed anyone. I told you from the start, my plan was benevolent.
*
Another quiet night was upon Patrick and Joy. Joy was overwhelmed by fear, and Patrick was overwhelmed by guilt. Throughout dinner, besides the clunks of forks hitting their dinner plates, inside Patrick's head, he heard, tell her or not to tell her. Patrick decided not to tell Joy his secret. Why was it so difficult for Patrick to disclose his secret? For starters, allow me to inform you of Patrick's motive.
Many years ago, Patrick pledged to himself; he wouldn’t travel into the astral plane unless it was a dire emergency. Once upon a time, Patrick created a master plan, and traveled into the astral plane to shelter its application. However, the design didn’t turn out as planned. The particular episode that I'm referring to almost produced disasters, not only for Patrick, but for thousands of other people. You must understand when the world is altered in the astral plane, only changing one tiny smidgen; well, that little smidgen has an astronomical ripple effect, reaching thousands and possibly millions of people. The thing is, on the surface, the ripple isn't seen for many years. So, what that means, if Patrick were to manipulate the world in the astral plane, he must continue his travels, and observe all the ripples, making sure all the T's are crossed. Sometimes, changing one simple minute for the good can change many for the bad, unless one is careful.
Patrick traveled more times than he can count into the astral plane to find the truth. He used the astral plane to find truths about concepts and life. He would take the information back, and apply it to his patient's recovery. To Patrick, if people knew about his secret, he'd be bombarded with millions seeking superficial information that doesn't pertain to their needs. Our society is entitled enough, so I agree with Patrick one hundred percent of the way.
Patrick has honored his pledge, for the most part, and hasn't altered anything in the astral plane since the episode. However, desperate times call for desperate measures. Instead of waiting around for more of my bizarre communication, Patrick decided to astral project at two thirty, with intentions of coming face-to-face with me. This decision would ultimately expose Patrick's secret, by default, and change the entire landscape.
*
2:30 a.m…
Joy was conked out under her bed sheets, while Patrick had himself in position to project his spirit into the astral plane. For those wondering what his position was, he was lying on his back, and to the average eye, he was sleeping. Unlike most science fiction tales, there won't be a ball of light or an earth-shattering vibration when Patrick projects his spirit. Truthfully, there won't be any theatrics at all, only still silence. Patrick relaxed his body, and took one last breath before projecting his spirit. And as easy as toasting bread, he was in the astral plane.
It took Patrick a few seconds before he was grounded on his legs. Standing next to the bed, Patrick's eyes beamed onto his peaceful body, and thought, there’s no place like home. He walked around the bed to the other side of the room, and peaked at Joy's snoozing state before entering the master-bathroom. For those of you wondering how Patrick opened the bathroom door, well the answer is simple; he turned the knob, the same way he normally would. However, if Joy had been awake, she would have seen the door open on its own. While in the bathroom, Patrick didn't find what he was looking for. He desperately wanted to find my spirit, but he wasn't going to have any luck. Throughout the night, Patrick searched the entire house. Although, the clock located on Patrick's nightstand only read a few minutes past two thirty, the time lapse in the astral plane was much different. In reality, what felt like a timeless investigation, wasn't. Be that as it may, for Patrick and Joy, time was about to stand still. As Patrick's search for my spirit was failing, Joy woke up.
*
When Joy woke up, she rolled to the right and accidentally whacked Patrick across the face with her hand. In a tiresome grumble, Joy said, "Oh my God baby, I'm sorry."
At first, Joy didn't think anything of it when Patrick didn't respond, but when she rolled to the left to fall back asleep, a thought jumped into her mind. Analytically, Joy thought; Patrick didn't move a muscle when I hit him. Joy's fast-paced thought caused her a moment of anxiety. So to relieve her stress, Joy poked Patrick on the shoulder, and whispered, "Patrick, Patrick."
Patrick didn't respond.
Of course, Patrick didn't respond because his spirit wasn't in his body, but Joy didn't know any better. You see, when someone projects their spirit, essentially, their body is a corpse with a heartbeat. When Patrick didn't respond, Joy tried again with more force. This time, grabbing his arm with both of her hands, Joy rattled him like a baby-toy. While shaking Patrick's arm, Joy's whisper transformed into a moderate yell, "Patrick, wake up, wake up!"
Patrick didn’t move.
Right away, Joy dislodged the covers from the bed in a state of horror, thinking, Patrick is dead. Joy sprung from the bed, and then straddled Patrick, placing her hands around his shoulders, dreadfully shaking his lifeless body.
Let's hit the pause button for a moment.
Was Patrick aware of what was happening to his body while he was in the astral plane?
The answer is yes. However, Patrick's awareness came too late, because he was preoccupied in a search for my spirit. If it were up to Patrick, he would have sent his spirit back much earlier to avoid his secret being exposed. At the same time, to answer the question, Patrick's awareness came when Joy was throwing him around like a rag doll.
Patrick's spirit was in the basement searching for yours truly, when he realized that Joy was attempting to resurrect him. Even though Patrick was in the astral plane, he thought, son-of-a-bitch, I have I to come clean. As it goes for anyone with a secret, it’s only a matter of time until it’s discovered.
Patrick's emotion triggered a surplus of energy during his travel back to his body. Unfortunately, the intensified energy made it worse. At the same time, when Patrick's spirit entered his body, he spastically convulsed, while his glass of water on the nightstand shattered. Let's just say, Joy didn't respond too well.
“What the fuck!” Joy screamed, as she lost self control.
Running like the speed of sound, Joy lodged herself in the corner of the room. In a fetal position crying, Joy yelled, "Don't come near me!"
Patrick stood up and walked toward Joy, ignoring her demand. Hesitantly inching his way closer, Patrick said, daintily, "Just let me explain."
Yelling and screaming at the top of her lungs, Joy was terrified of Patrick.
“Stay the fuck away from me!”
"Okay, okay, but let me explain.” Patrick pleaded.
"Who are you?" Joy asked, snarling like a wild animal.
"I'm Patrick, not a goddamn monster!"
“Then what are you?” Joy asked, understanding there was more than meets the eye.
“I’m an astral projector.” Patrick answered.
*
There it is folks, the situation that unearthed Patrick's secret, and I was responsible for the whole thing. I knew Patrick would eventually project his spirit into the astral plane to search for me, and come up empty. I knew Joy would handle it the way she did. Around four o'clock in the morning, Joy packed her bags and left. She drove to her mother's house with intentions of staying, indefinitely.
Joy's trust was broken, and she wondered, what exactly has Patrick done in the astral plane throughout his life?
In addition, Joy questioned, is Patrick the ringleader of the entire haunting?
You know; you can't spend your life with someone whom you don't trust. Although, Joy didn't trust Patrick, I did.
Chapter 17
DOCTOR SHOLVIN HAS TO DIE
"Shawn, Patrick's ready for you." Laura said to me as she entered the room.
"Thank you Laura, give me a few minutes, and I'll be right there."
Patrick hasn't conducted a session with me in eight days. He had one scheduled a few days ago, but he canceled at the last minute. Patrick called the hospit
al and said he couldn't make it, because of a personal issue. Automatically, I worried. I assumed; whoever was haunting Patrick and his girlfriend was playing tricks again. I was hopeful the tricks didn't go too far, but you never know. So when Laura informed me that Patrick was present and ready, I was relieved.
I must admit; I have a special bond with Patrick. Besides the obvious, both of us being astral projectors, there was something else. I couldn't explain it, but there had to be. The something else that I can’t put my finger on, I may never know. However, I believed the interconnectedness between us was woven tightly.
*
I entered the office, and saw Patrick sitting behind his desk. Off-the-bat, Patrick wasn't himself. He was brooding, and fidgeting with a paperclip.
Despite his dilemma, Patrick gracefully said, "Hi Shawn, please have a seat." Before my bottom hit the chair, Patrick apologized, "Hey buddy, I'm sorry for canceling our last appointment; I was dealing with some personal issues."
"It's alright; I know all about personal issues." I replied, as Patrick gave a sympathetic grin.
I could tell Patrick was hurting, and it made me sad because he was the only role model in my life.
"What's bothering you?" I asked.
Placing the paperclip onto the desk, Patrick replied, "Thank you for asking, but this isn't my counseling session. Nor, are we here to discuss my issues."
"Yeah, you're right, but tell me where you're going to find another astral projector to find familiarity with?"
Isn't that the truth, familiarity?
Without familiarity, it's like asking an English literature question to a carpenter.
Patrick laughed at my question.
"I guess this whole thing is anything but normal. My girlfriend left me, because she accidentally caught me astral projecting, and now she doesn't trust me. Christ, I believe she thinks I'm the one haunting her."
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