All I could remember was the sound of laughter ringing in my ears before the darkness. I bolted up and looked around trying to put the pieces together of what happened and where I was. I’m pretty sure this is the couch that was in our house when I was fourteen. I looked, yep, that’s the place where the not yet fixed dog had her period and stained the pastel floral fabric. It’s the couch, but not the house. No. This was an unknown space, but it was full of items made of memories. I could see my first car parked outside, even though I would swear there was no window. On the bookcase I saw some of my favorite books, a disc camera that I got for Christmas when I was 12 or so. A pile of Hard Rock t-shirts in a pile of dirty laundry – Berlin, Amsterdam, Paris, London, Barcelona. That’s as far as I looked.
The door opened and an old bearded guy in a flowing muslin outfit came in. Please, please, please don’t tell me it’s Saint Peter or some other Catholic bullshittery. I did not spend the majority of my life an atheist for this religious crap.
“Saint Peter?” I ask dryly.
“No. I’m here to fetch you. You have a meeting.” His voice sounded surprisingly young, in contrast to his classic saint-like appearance.
“With whom?”
“Does it matter? Do you somehow have something better to do?” he waved around the small space, where now all the bric-a-brac and memories had vanished.
I sighed, “Guess not.” And followed him out the door.
“Where am I? How did I get here? What is going to happen next?”
“You all ask the same inane questions, and I don’t give a fuck to answer them. You’re here. You have a goddamn meeting, so shut the fuck up and go meet.”
He led me down a hallway that looked like an exact replica of the house I lived in when I was 6-years old, with my mom’s door at the end of it.
“Just knock.” he said impassively, then disappeared. Just literally disappeared.
I looked around, it was no longer the childhood hallway, but the door before me still looked like my mom’s from that house. I rapped on the door, and before the second rap “Enter.” was heard by a warm maternal voice.
Pushing the door open into a lush green landscape with grass, trees, flowers, the sounds of birds, a brook singing as it skipped over rocks was audible, and it smelled like flowers and chlorophyll, a freshness I remembered from camping and summer camp.
A massive tree with the sun streaking through it’s spring green leaves was in the center of the space, with a woman, plump and smiling with silver hair piled in a messy but elegant twist atop her head seated in a nook at the base of the tree’s trunk. Small animals snuggled near her feet and legs, and she held a gigantic white rabbit with pink eyes in her arms.
“Come closer, child. I’m sure you have questions.” Her voice felt like a fluffy blanket wrapped around my soul, inviting me to curl up and rest. Without conscious thought I walked towards her, I felt pulled to her.
I stood in front of her as she looked at me, her face remaining the picture of serene happiness. I felt as though I should curtsy or bow.
“We don’t do that here.” she said, and chuckled.
“You heard that?” I said, more embarrassed than surprised or upset.
“Oh yes. I know everything about you.”
My face flushed and my throat went dry.
“You shouldn’t do that. You’re not what you think you are. You, like all people, are a product of your birth and upbringing. Each of those things made you who you are.” she smiled and pet the rabbit, “And today we’ll work together so you can see it all more clearly.”
“Her levels look good.” the woman was in a white lab coat, checking a medical monitor. A nurse came beside her and checked the IV hanging beside the bed.
“Will this really work, doctor?” The young woman sat, holding the hand of a middle-aged woman in a hospital bed.
“We’ve had great success with similar patients, Ms. Merene. This kind of deep dive into her subconscious will allow her to work through the trauma and sort through what is real and what is fantasy.” the doctor smiled, “You’ll have your mother back soon, I’m certain of it.”
Book Slut 