After taking a deep breath, Patrick said, "Jessica, thank you for your time. And one last thing, enjoy your swim."
*
Jessica held true to her word, while denying Patrick's. She hung-up the phone, and walked straight through the warning Patrick gift-wrapped. She lied to her husband, and then lied to her children. Jessica walked through the door, hopped into her sports car, and drove to Tyler's. Never once, did Patrick's warning faze her. Jessica chased her perceived needs, also known as wants. From chapter one, I said, "Life isn't about what we want, it's about what we need." A simple understanding could have saved Jessica's life.
When Jessica arrived at Tyler's mansion-like estate, he was already waiting in the heated swimming pool, half drunk, from the wine he was drinking. Jessica, not wasting any time, because she was on a time-restraint, being girls-night and all, provided Tyler with a striptease, before unleashing her completely nude body. Jessica entered the pool, and nudged herself beside Tyler. Tyler offered Jessica a drink, but she refused. Jessica was itching for one thing, and it wasn't a drink. A kiss here, and a kiss there, followed by several touches everywhere, Jessica decided to take a picture of the two of them fooling around, for a keepsake, I guess. Reaching onto the side of the pool to get her phone, Jessica took their picture.
"I hope you're planning on deleting that." Tyler said, after Jessica took the picture.
"I might, or I might save it and use it as a visual when I masturbate.”
"Whatever rocks your world." Tyler said, hoping Jessica would shut-up and continue her favors.
Before Tyler got into it, so to speak, his phone rang.
"Baby, don't answer it." Jessica said, while her hands were busy.
Tyler reached for his phone to see who it was.
"Shit! It's my business partner; I have to answer this call."
Tyler answered his phone, and went inside.
When Tyler entered his home, is when the real fun began.
While sexed-up Jessica was waiting for Tyler to return to the pool, she decided to have a glass of wine, because she was growing impatient. Ten to fifteen minutes had passed, when she decided to exit the pool and see what was taking Tyler so long. However, when she tried to stand up, she couldn't, Jessica was under a spiritual attack. Jessica was fighting the demonstration of aggression, but she was failing. Before she faltered completely, she had one terminal moment of clarity, which contained Patrick's words. I guess Patrick got the last word after all.
Under the spiritual reign radiating from my body, Jessica sent her husband the picture-text message of her and Tyler. And the message read; I'm an unfaithful whore. Soon thereafter, Jessica felt the most excruciating pain shoot across her chest. As the affliction intensified, Jessica lost all control of her motor functioning. Before she knew it, she was under water, drowning.
Twenty-five minutes later, Tyler would find Jessica's deceased body floating on top of the water. Eventually, the medical professionals claimed Jessica suffered from an unexplained heart-attack that caused her to drown.
Sound familiar?
You know; the last words Jessica said to Patrick, Shawn Walters is better off dead; yeah, whatever bitch. I'm already dead, and now, so are you.
Chapter 19
SAME GAME DIFFERENT PLAYERS
I was in my bedroom at Mountain Springs, waiting for Patrick to arrive, as I was reflecting on what I did to Doctor Sholvin. I know; I know; I'm a murderer, and I don't expect you to think any less. However, you might perceive my vicious attack from a different angle, after I have my session with Patrick. I could only guess how Patrick was going to react, but with utmost sincerity, I earnestly hoped that he wouldn't turn his back on me. I'll say it again, I was a murderer, but there was a time when I wasn't a cold-blooded killer, or an astral projector. Straightforward, my ability and murderous ways were relatively new, only being acquired a short time ago. I used to be a good person, or at least; I thought I was, before life was stolen from me. The person who I was is what I want to release into the world, and if Patrick abandons me for what I've done, I'm almost positive my transformation will never happen. I prayed, not to anyone or anything, in particular, but I prayed so unbelievably hard that Patrick would see me for who I was and who I could be, and not what I've done.
Patrick hadn't arrived yet, but my mother had. My mother, whom I hadn't seen in the flesh for a while, was downstairs. Patrick invited her to today's session, which actually made me nervous. I wasn't sure what Patrick was hiding up his sleeve, but I assumed he was going to inform my mother that I killed Doctor Sholvin. The idea of me taking someone's life would break her heart. And my secret, not the astral projection, but the other one, would absolutely shatter my mother into pieces. Despite my mother's conscious blindness, her struggles were magnified anyway. I knew my mother was psychologically splintering by the day. Therefore, I've been astral projecting, visiting her as much as possible. My mother hasn't actually seen me, but she's felt my presence. Yeah, my mother feels haunted, but in actuality, I'm bringing her comfort. Truth be told, my mother speaks to me sometimes, and her words make me realize how important I am. I'm expressing this with tears in my eyes; I want to embrace my mother and let her know I'm okay, but I can't, because I'm not. Maybe someday I'll be able? If so, it will never be the same, but if that day comes, everyone, including me, will have to make adjustments. With that said, wiping the tears from my face, Laura knocked on the door wearing a friendly smile.
"Hi Shawn, Doctor Lucid is here and prepared for you."
"I'm ready." I replied, smiling back.
When entering Patrick's office, I immediately hugged my mother with full force. Although I just mentioned I wanted to embrace my mother and let her know that I was alright, as strange as it may seem, this wasn't what I was referring to, bear with me.
"It's great to see you." My mother said.
"Mom, I've missed you so much."
My mother sat down, as did I, when Patrick asked, cynically, "What's new Shawn? Have you had a chance to use the swimming pool here at Mountain Springs yet?"
My mother stared quietly, not understanding Patrick's obvious correlation, when I replied, sarcastically, "No Patrick, I haven't, but I heard it's to die for."
Patrick didn't appreciate my comment, and I thought, damn it; he's going to tell my mother.
Before Patrick could respond, my mother's poor social skills interrupted his thought. Without waiting her turn to speak, my mother blurted, "Doctor Lucid, how's my son's progress?"
Again, I thought, damn it! Now he's going to tell her.
Surprisingly, beyond Patrick's unorthodox demeanor, he showed his true colors.
Covering for me, Patrick said, "Shawn's making some progress. To be honest, and I'm estimating, I believe I'll have him one hundred percent cured, within a year's time."
"Oh my God, that would be so amazing." My mother replied, with hope dazzling in her eyes.
Although she was tickled stupid from Patrick's prediction, I wasn't. With discontent, I asked, "An entire year, why so long?"
Looking at me as if he wanted to rip my intestines out with his hands, Patrick said, "Don't push your luck Shawn."
Instead of responding, I zipped my lip, because Patrick saved the day by not disclosing what I did to Sholvin or Clarkston for that matter.
"Rebecca, I'm going to conduct Shawn's session individually in his room before consulting with you. Do you mind waiting here?" Patrick asked.
"Not at all,” my mother responded, pleasantly.
Oh no, I'm in for it, I thought, as I stood from my chair.
*
The entire walk from Patrick's office felt like I consumed tainted Mexican food, my stomach and ass hole were tight and uncomfortable, because I couldn't have been any more nervous. Patrick and I didn't say anything to each other until we entered my room.
After Patrick shut the door, with more elbow grease than he should have, he asked, "What do you have to say for yourself?"
I sat on my b
ed, and gulped dryness down my throat. Patrick moved the chair that belonged to my desk, and parked it at the foot of my bed. Without answering Patrick, he was forced to repeat himself, "Well Shawn, what do you have to say for yourself?"
After taking a deep breath, I spoke.
With forgiveness in my voice, I asked, "Before judging me, will you at least hear me out?"
"Shawn, there are two children without their mother because of you. Do you deserve an explanation?"
"Maybe not, but I would appreciate the opportunity."
"Shawn, I seriously want to dislike you, for reasons beyond your comprehension. However, the more I try, the more I sympathize with you."
I wasn't sure what to say; Patrick's statement triggered good and bad emotions. So, I waited for him to speak.
Heartfelt, Patrick explained, "Life isn't about what we want, it's about what we need. And Shawn, trust me, I want to dislike you, but for now that's not what you or I need."
I smiled, chuckled a bit, and said, "Yeah, we got thrown into this mess together, so we might as well make the most of it."
"You're right buddy. The floor is yours; tell me why you killed Doctor Sholvin."
*
Why did I kill Doctor Sholvin?
Of course I hated her, because she was a deceitful, lazy, superficial, cheating slut. And although the thought of her made any positive emotions I had to erode, that’s not why I murdered her. I realize this sounds completely off-target; I killed Sholvin for her children's sake. Patrick taught me throughout our time together; one must look beyond the surface impact of behavior. On the tip of the iceberg, yes, Sholvin's children are without their mother. However, traveling into the astral plane, I dove into the abyss, and saw Sholvin's future. Three years henceforth, if I didn't murder Sholvin, this is what would've happened.
Doctor Jessica Sholvin's adult patient, Samuel Gibbs, invited her to his house for an after the hours-session, if you know what I mean. And if you don't, let me make it clear, Sholvin was banging her patient. Well, one night, Jessica was at Samuel's house drinking and screwing, while her children were at a friend's sleep over. While at the sleep over, Jessica's children came down with an illness, prompting the host parent to call Jessica's cell phone. Thrown off guard, Jessica left Samuel's house, completely smashed, and picked up her sick children. Needless to say, Doctor Jessica Sholvin, with her children in the car, swerved into an oncoming eighteen wheeler. The collision killed both her children instantly. And for Jessica, she died hours later. I figured, since Sholvin was going to die anyway, I'd kill her sooner, preventing the accident, and save the lives of her children. You see; I'm not as bad as you think, this is why I needed to explain myself to Patrick.
How did Patrick respond after hearing the motive behind my murder?
"Christ Shawn, I understand, I do. Still, you can't play God your entire life. Yeah, you looked three years into the future with great intentions, but you didn't look any further. Shawn, when you impact the world through astral projection, it's an endless journey, watching and analyzing every ripple for the rest of your life."
"How do I do that?" I asked with curiosity.
"You don't. It's impossible. You'll miss something, somewhere; I should know." Patrick confessed, wholeheartedly.
"So what are you suggesting?"
"Stop astral projecting, and take care of business in this realm. You're psychologically lost; you have no right changing the world until you can change yourself."
"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get to work, so I can be healthy enough to use my ability."
*
Primed and ready, I was motivated to lower my defenses and allow Patrick to throw any intervention he wished towards me, even if my secrets were exposed. This wasn't an easy task, placing my well-being in the hands of someone else, but I had to learn to trust again. While Patrick flipped to a clean page in his notebook, his focus wandered to the floor, near the corner of my bedroom. Crumbled up, near my wastebasket, was a piece of paper.
Instinctual eyes like a hawk, Patrick asked, "What paper did you toss onto the floor?"
"I don't know, let me check." I replied, as I fetched the paper for Patrick.
Un-crumbling and flattening the paper to the best of my ability, I handed it to Patrick.
"I didn't know you were an artist." Patrick said, as he saw my drawing.
"I'm not an artist."
"When did you draw this picture?"
"I drew that picture here at Mountain Springs, not long after I was admitted. Actually, the day you were pulled into the astral plane and met me, I drew it that night, well early morning."
Patrick held my drawing for both of us to see, as we discussed the content.
"I see a girl in a car, and I'm assuming the excessive red color is symbolic for blood. Would I be correct?" Patrick asked.
"Yeah, you're right. Originally I didn't want to draw blood; it just happened."
"Shawn, do you realize you're fixated with blood?" Patrick asked, recognizing my behavioral sequences.
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"Think about it, your hallucinations, there's too much blood, and an unconscious drive to ruin a beautiful picture with blood." Patrick explained, putting me together like a puzzle.
"Yeah, I see the connection."
"Guess what this tells me?"
"I'm not sure."
"This means, somewhere in your head; lives a traumatic experience that you associate with blood. Let's find it."
*
Using an intervention that has long been forgotten or misused, Patrick implemented free-association. Please allow me to utilize several minutes and explain the process and purpose of free-association. To start, we need to break down what it means. The free in free-association stands for freedom. In a therapeutic session, the patient should have the emotional safety, or freedom of speech, to say whatever they need to say. Of course, freedom comes with rapport and trust, but never-the-less; the person shouldn't feel inhibited. Next, the term association stands for a degree of separation, or link. Placing these terms together, free-association, you have an intervention, allowing a therapist to guide his or her patient to connect their thoughts, emotions, and behaviors, locating a reason.
When Patrick commences free-association with me, he'll start with an identified word, which will be blood. However, for the example, let's use peanut butter. Before we begin the example, please visualize a chain of five links, and as you could imagine, the first link is linked with the second, the second is linked with the third, the third to the fourth, and the fourth to the fifth. Nevertheless, the first link is also linked with the fifth, the fourth to the second, and so forth and so forth. Just because something isn't directly touching, doesn't mean they're not associated. Our thoughts are no exception, but the association doesn't end with five examples. The association of thoughts in our mind is endless. Back to peanut butter, tell me the first honest thought that comes into your mind when I say, peanut butter. Hypothetically, you say, jelly. Jelly is one degree of separation from the identified word of peanut butter. Tell me the first thought that comes into your mind when I say, jelly. Again, hypothetically, you say, grape. Grape is two degrees of separation from the identified word. After grape, you say vineyard, wine, alcoholic, and rehab. Rehab is six degrees of separation from the identified word, and six links into your unconscious. Before the example, if I said, you associate rehab with peanut butter, you would've called me insane. Image the deranged concepts we'd uncover if we participated in one hundred degrees of separation? Please remember, the higher the links, the deeper into the unconscious one travels. Sometimes during this exercise, there will be detours, and the concepts will be out of order, or spaced apart. Yet, if one does enough degrees of separation, a story will be told.
What's my story?
Brace yourself and I will do the same, because here it comes, maybe not the entire story, but a major factor.
Pen in hand, notebook on his lap, Patrick began.
<
br /> "Shawn, tell me the first honest thought that comes to your mind when I say the word blood."
Without over thinking, allowing thoughts to enter quickly, I said, "red."
"Tell me what comes to your mind when I say red."
"Light,” I replied just as quickly as the first degree of separation.
"Tell me what comes to your mind when I say light."
"Intersection."
I was three degrees of separation from my identified word of blood, and I knew what story was about to be told. I allowed my participation to happen without resistance. Please remember, before you continue reading the rest of this chapter, overcoming any obstacle requires courage and pain, but most importantly, truth. Directly from Patrick's notebook, here's a glimpse of the data Patrick unearthed during the activity. And truth be told, data wasn't the only thing unearthed.
Please note, in Patrick’s notebook, instead of bold-faced words, he used circles to highlight the important words…
*
Identified word BLOOD > red > light > intersection > crossroad > decision > guilt > murder > Shawn > Elizabeth > mom > distraction > busy > tired > resting > lying down > died > sad > cry > tears > wet > dry > hot > out > in > side > above > under > ground > grass > green > blue > gray > car > to > from > outer-space > alien > probe > brain > aneurysm
*
Usually, when Patrick uses free-association as an intervention, he is required to go past thirty degrees of separation. In my case, thirty was all Patrick needed. I wasn't sure if he was surprised by the outcome, but I do believe; it grounded him. After writing aneurysm, the thirtieth degree of separation, in his notebook, Patrick hesitated before speaking, and then took several deep breaths. Understanding what happened; Patrick asked a few questions regardless, just to make sure.
"Okay Shawn, I found what I was looking for, but can you tell me your sister's first name again?"
When Worlds Collide Page 13