Mindscape

Artist: Denise Mylonakis

By: Julia Lemyre-Cossette

The elevator doors slid open, flooding Eloise with the mindscapes of its three passengers. She immediately felt the familiar feedback from the middle-aged woman who worked on the ninth floor, standing at the back of the lift. The other two were strangers both in thoughts and appearance. Her headache was amplified by their presence.

She pressed the button for the eleventh floor. As the elevator doors closed, Eloise let herself drift into the cognition of the middle-aged woman from the ninth floor. Her tidy pink kitchen, a single rose in a crystal vase placed exactly at the center of the round wooden table, was bathed in dull sunlight. Today, her inner-self was a tired wrinkled woman warming her hands on a cup of tea, hunched over in her chair. Just a couple more weeks…a couple more…, she kept repeating. This version of her scene came back every few months, when she needed a vacation. Over the years, Eloise had noticed the change: the woman hardly ever made it back to the young girl baking cookies in the kitchen anymore. At best, she presented as the serene woman reading by the counter. At least her mind is still her own, Eloise thought.

She forced herself out of the kitchen and back into the elevator by concentrating on the golden doors and the staticky music that bounced off the walls. She pulled out her phone to add Ibuprofen to her shopping list, but got distracted by a headline that popped into her feed: How to Watch Today’s Solar Eclipse. Right, I forgot about that. Maybe that’s what’s giving me a headache. She rubbed her temples and went to put her phone away. The steady sound of wheels running on tracks slowly began to cover the grainy elevator music. She had to work hard to stay present. Right, the Ibuprofen. Eloise slid her finger over the phone screen and quickly added the item to her list before she could get distracted again. As she dropped it back into her pocket, she noticed the man in the grey suit standing next to her.

He was rubbing the fabric of his pleated pants between his fingers. His mind forced its way to the forefront, taking over the elevator with a fast train. Eloise had always thought it so fitting how stressed-out businessmen’s minds often took them on fast-moving vehicles. He sat straight in an aisle seat clutching a briefcase, identical to his physical self if not for the fact that this version of him was disheveled. Hello, high-functioning anxiety, she diagnosed dismissively. His mindscape seemed pretty barren, his colors faded, but it was hard for Eloise to decipher any details while it flashed by through the train’s windows. His thoughts were quick and messy, but beneath it all he was clearly rehearsing for an interview.

…for three years now… the public attorneys’… I’m ready – she got vertigo from the train’s abrupt jostling, wondering for a moment if the movement had come from the elevator – no, excited for a new… black shoes… recommendation from Judge Goldst-she didn’t wear the lace… ham sandwich again… top of my class… Ink droplets stained the carpet between the empty rows of leather seats, marking an untidy trail winding towards the front of the train. She always found the trails, eventually, though this one was pretty obvious. His issues were running the engine.

For a moment, the middle-aged lady was sitting near the man on the train, oddly hunched in her seat. But Eloise knew they weren’t actually intertwined. Just a couple more weeks… The lady’s cup of tea faded in and out of the seat in front of her as the train swayed over her steady mindscape. …back in time to watch the eclipse with Jeremy… 

Right. That again, she thought. She had read the solar eclipse would happen sometime before noon. Maybe it’s not just the headache. She rubbed her temples again. Maybe that’s why I’m having such a hard time staying out of their minds. Well, the full moon boosts my abilities… maybe this is the same. She didn’t remember ever working with patients during an eclipse, but perhaps this event would make her day easier, despite the headache.

She let go of the physical world for a second, hoping for relief and looked on as the man and middle-aged woman were engulfed in a cloud of pink smoke and blown away by a gentle breeze. Eloise was now standing in a field of wheat that swayed in the warm wind. The third passenger was standing in tree pose, breathing in time with the wind, controlling it. The scene changed colour with her thoughts, now pink, now blue, then grey and back to pink again. She heard no words, but Eloise felt thoughts of love, serenity, and the continuous pushing down of something that pinched.

She held back a petty sigh. You can’t actually meditate your problems away, lady. Before she knew it, Eloise searched across the field, looking for tell-tale signs of intrusion: a glitch in the wind, an unnatural barrier, a place where the colors felt wrong. And there is was, right below the passenger in tree pose: a circle of crushed dead wheat, obstinately dull in contrast to the other colours projected in the mindscape. Mind over matter, mind over monster. Though she knew better, Eloise couldn’t help but judge the girl for thinking herself above her own trauma. Breathe all you want, you’ll have to face it sooner or later. I’d lure it out of you in under a minute.

The golden doors slid open again and the girl walked out, taking the breeze and a purple vision with her. Just a couple more weeks… biggest case to date… bet she runs a lot… those legs… empty jam… can’t be late…

The elevator sprang into motion in time with the jostle of the man’s train. Eloise tried to keep her focus on the doors the rest of the way.

She eventually reached the glass doors marked with elegant, square letters: Dr. Eloise Bouvier, Psychiatrist. She unlocked them and turned on the lights in her neat waiting room. Two cozy leather couches lined walls adorned with watercolor nightscapes. She plugged in the coffee machine that few patients ever used and turned on her little radio, intended to drown out any conversation happening inside her office. The little room was flooded with violins and cellos.

She opened the door to her office and was instantly bathed in sunlight. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered an amazing view of the city on three sides. She set her bag down on the large glass desk and pulled out a black leather portfolio. She walked over to the massive ebony bookshelf that lined the only windowless wall. It was filled with various awards and framed articles about her work: different research grant announcements, some breakthrough cases she’d worked on and even a profile piece that had been published in a special edition of Vogue about trailblazing women in different fields. One title stood out to her, as it often did: Dr. Bouvier, Mind Whisperer. Damn right, she thought every time – and today was no different. She loved the picture they had chosen for the piece, in which she wore an elegant pantsuit. Now that’s a power suit.

It might have been considered cheating compared to how other doctors worked, but at least she was using her gifts for good, she thought. That it brought her wild success in the field, well, that was just a bonus.

She ran her fingers around the edge of the third shelf until they connected with a concealed button. A section of the bookshelf pivoted with a discreet click. Eloise stepped into a hidden room the size of a large closet and pulled on the string dangling from the ceiling. The small space was illuminated by a single lightbulb.

The four walls were covered in drawings of strange creatures. Each of them was frightening and belonged in a unique universe of horrors. One was dark blue, almost black with great bulging eyes and a glob of drool dangling nearly to the ground. Another had such large teeth it looked as though that’s all it was. She remembered destroying that one in a veteran with PTSD and extreme aggression issues. Until Eloise’s intervention, the beast had trapped the poor man’s inner self in a horrific mindscape created from a memory of an enemy ambush in Iraq where his entire platoon had been killed. Some creatures were big, others small and tricky to find. They were hairy or scaly, usually had some form of predatory feature (fangs, claws, even a few poison stingers), almost always sly.

Every single one of the portraits bore a look of betrayal. I’m going to run out of space, soon, she thought. She pulled a sheet of paper out from the portfolio and pinned it to the wall, covering more of what little free space remained.

The latest drawing depicted a crude-looking three-headed creature that reminded Eloise of a swamp troll with sharp black claws at the ends of its long, knotty fingers. All three faces were glaring back at her with hatred and the look a toddler might have when caught red-handed with the cookie jar. This one had been particularly tricky to find. It had taken her months of sessions with her patient to get to it. The creature had been speaking to him in its three voices, confusing him, harming him, and isolating him in paranoia. It had laid many false trails in the poor man’s psyche. But, she had found the right one in the end. She had led the man to his demon and freed the trembling adolescent that had been incarcerated by the vile creature. She had drawn her latest monstrous conquest the night before, knowing this case would be referred to in articles and books to come. Her peers would be talking about it for years; for such a heavy case of schizophrenia to end with a stellar recovery was unheard of. A fine addition to my collection of monsters.

She switched off the light and carefully closed the door behind her. Her next patient should be arriving any minute now. She pulled out his file from her cabinet to read it over. All her files were kept up to date, used accurate terminology and could be consulted by prying peers without revealing the nature of her practice.

What she did wasn’t about diagnosis, it was about observation.

She skimmed through her notes: … depersonalization as a result of childhood trauma… abuse… post-traumatic… unresponsive to talk therapy… experimental treatments… medication… personality disorder… She prepared the day’s session based on clues she had left for herself in the file. But where is your monster hiding? she wondered. She reached the end of her notes: the patient’s mental and physical state seem unchanged… need to establish new pathways… There was her code: she needed to look for tiny abnormalities in his mindscape. Small details that didn’t fit right in a monotonous relief. New trails she hadn’t seen before.

When she heard the glass doors to the waiting room open, she put the file away and walked over to her office door to greet her patient.

“Hello, Devon.” She smiled politely at the young man standing before her.

“Hi, Dr. Bouvier.” His voice was hollow. His thoughts were absent.

Devon Taylor was a 27-year-old man with long black hair, always dressed in dark colours, who couldn’t remember ever knowing happiness. His was a heavy case of chronic depression with suicidal tendencies brought on by trauma. He had been seen by countless professionals from a young age, but nothing had improved his condition for more than a few weeks at a time. From their first meeting, he had made it clear to her that this was his final attempt at getting better; he had shared his story too many times, with too few results. He was exhausted from living.

Eloise was not surprised: his mindscape was one of the darkest she’d ever encountered and the trail was proving very difficult to find. Even after several sessions, she had yet to track down the monster she knew was in there. Whatever creature had taken hold of his inner self was very clever.

She stepped aside to invite him in. He walked across the room with shoulders slumped, staring at the ground.

He dropped his backpack near the cozy green armchair before lowering himself into it. He slouched like he wanted to disappear into the cushions, focusing on his hands while they picked at the raw skin on his fingers. She closed the door and walked over to her own chair, facing him. Already, she felt the overwhelming void of his psyche calling her. Unlike most patients, Devon’s inner dialogue was almost completely quiet. Where others usually drew her in, she had to actively work to penetrate his mindscape. Unless she really focused and engaged with him, all she caught were whispered sighs and rare, short thoughts.

She always had to be the one to initiate the sessions with him. “So, Devon,” she began, “how are you today?”

“Fine, I guess,” he said in a drawn out, tired breath. He was incredibly still, other than his picking fingers. “There’s going to be an eclipse today.”

“So I hear” she said. I’m hoping it’ll give me the boost I need to add your demon to my wall. She focused on him, plunging into his mind with unusual ease – Devon kept up sturdy barriers. For the seventh time, she found herself in the cold, barren land of his being. Without any real source of light, everything existed in grey hues. The ground was covered in dry grass and the lone tree cutting the horizon had long been dead.

Darkness follows me, his voice carried in his mind flatly. “Should happen any minute, actually,” he said out loud. And quiet. So quiet and empty. 

Devon’s thoughts had the strange quality of being perfectly clear, always focused on one thing. It was highly irregular in depressed patients, who usually unknowingly assailed Eloise with dozens of half-formed thoughts and worries at once. She often finished those sessions completely exhausted.

But Devon was quiet.

“Are you interested in astronomy?” she inquired in her still, quiet office. A cold wind blew a warning in his mind.

“Not really.” He ran his hands over his pale face. Not interesting. “I’m not really interested, it’s just… it fits.” It’s only darkness. Nothing is interesting.

In the dull landscape of Devon’s mind, she came upon a dried-up stump as big as a garbage truck. There was an opening between the giant tangled roots, like an ominous secret passage. What an obvious decoy! Is his beast growing lazy? Her head was pulsating with a dull, heavy ache that pulled at her focus. “It fits?” she asked while walking down the dusty gravel road. Growing lazy… or weak? Today is my day, I can feel it!

“Yeah,” he sighed, but offered nothing more.

“How so?” she pressed him in her office as she pressed on in his faded mindscape. She needed him to keep going. Patients helped her find the way: when they opened up, they cleared her path. Keep him talking. “What do mean?”

It’s darkness. “It kills the light. I haven’t felt the light in… maybe never.” Always, darkness. Always broken. The wind turned on her as if trying to turn her away. She changed directions again.

Too obvious, she thought. It wasn’t further that way. She knew his monster was cunning and loved drawing her into dead ends. I’ll find you soon enough. “You think of yourself as dark,” she stated, hoping it would get her patient to talk.

Yes. He didn’t answer her, though.

Still, the hues of his mindscape turned a lighter shade of grey, revealing a dark shape moving to her right. It was hiding in tall grass that gleamed like it had been dipped in ink. That’s new, she thought, excited. I have to create new pathways. She was getting somewhere.

She followed the movement into the tall grass, leaving a trail as she went. The leaves scratched her arms, leaving dark ink stains on her sleeves. “What makes you say that?” she asked, her white blouse still sitting immaculate on her physical arms. An ink monster, is it?

Here we go again, Devon thought with a heaviness that momentarily darkened the skies over the tall grass. Why am I here? She won’t save me. “I guess...” He shifted in his seat and looked out the window, squinting at the sunlight. Could she save me? The sky flickered. “With the stuff that happened with my uncle… and then my mom…” Hide in the dark. More darkness. “I think it’s happening. The eclipse.”

The far corner of her office was touched by a shadow as the eclipse began. Eloise felt her skin prickle at the base of her neck. She ignored it and walked faster towards the place where she had last seen the dark shape. Here we go. You won’t escape me, beast. I always win. She held back a triumphant smile. I’ll find you, and then I’ll know how to get rid of you.

“You bring up this idea of darkness often in our sessions. As if it’s wrong. Is it bad to be dark, Devon?” She asked gently to keep him talking. A warmer wind blew at her back. The grass ruffled in the distance, darkening further down the field. Strands that touched her fingers softened ever so slightly, thick black ink slipping off their tips.

Devon shifted in his chair. His fingers tugged at his skin a little too hard, releasing a drop of blood from his left thumb. He quickly hid it in his palm, wrapping his thumb under his fingers. He crossed his left ankle over his right knee and shook his foot rapidly.

“I wouldn’t be here if it was.” Dark is dark. He looked down at his foot and fingered his shoelaces. They aren’t in here. I’m alone. Always alone in the dark.

“Can’t it be a part of life, a passing thing? An eclipse brings darkness, but it moves on eventually. Maybe your darkness is kind of the same,” she suggested as she stumbled upon a hidden staircase going down into the ground, leading into pitch black darkness. And maybe an eclipse is just what I needed.

“The same?” he looked her in the eyes for the first time ever, making his physical presence startlingly clear beyond the staircase. There’s nothing after dark, no light for me. Can there be light?

Focus. Don’t scare him off: open him up. Eloise held his gaze in her chair while she looked down to the very bottom of the stairs where a shy, muted yellow light suddenly flickered. It was the only hint of light she had ever seen in Devon’s mindscape. There.

“Well, what if darkness is a part of you?” she asked. A whiff of smoke drifted over the light. She didn’t need his straight answer to know there was indeed quite a bit of darkness inside his mind. I’m getting closer.

The darkness crept down the back wall and toward the carpet of the office.

“So, basically,” he shifted uncomfortably and started picking at his fingers again, “I’m stuck with it. That’s what you mean.” More darkness. I knew it. No light. His eyes were filled with an oncoming storm that threatened to erupt in his mind’s sky.

“No, not stuck. I’m thinking more along the lines of: maybe a little darkness is normal. Part of who you are. Part of your story. What if a little darkness is good?” The light pulsed at her words. The smoke lifted and she started down the stairs.

“How?” His voice might’ve risen if he hadn’t been so numb. “I’m way past the point where a little darkness, as you say, would make me a more nuanced individual. I’m not like one of those artists who can make beauty from their pain.” The light flickered and he stared out the window. A little darkness. It isn’t little, it’s lonely. I have nothing to offer. I’m just naked in the dark. He sighed. “No, Dr. Bouvier. I’m drowning in darkness. See, even the sun refuses to shine while I’m here.”

The shadows grew taller in the office as the sun disappeared slowly behind the moon. The taller the shadows grew, the stronger her headache got. Eloise felt the strange tingle in the back of her mind grow and pull at the skin on her neck, straining her focus. She forced herself to move on. I’m almost there, I know it. I’ve almost found it. I just need to keep going a bit longer. She made her way down the dimly lit stairs with a hand against the crumbly stone wall to keep her balance. The texture of his mind seemed so fragile, almost like she could break it. Is he more malleable because of the eclipse? she wondered. She needed to open him up fully.

“There’s darkness in everyone, Devon. Some more than others, sure, but what if you got to know yours a little better?”

She walked into a dismal cement basement. It was clearly a replica of the place where Devon’s uncle had changed him forever. A small dark-haired boy of about four years old sat in a corner crying quietly. A large black creature of smoke and fur – something between a leopard and a wolf – stood between her and the child. Not ink, but smoke? The animal snarled, but Eloise walked decisively towards it. Gotcha, Beast.

“Get to know it?” Devon looked at her again. An unfamiliar light of hope crossed his gaze and pushed against the shadows of his mind. The creature in the basement reluctantly backed away from Eloise, staying in the retreating shadows. It didn’t want to let her reach the child, but mind creatures never let themselves be touched.

“Well, it’s yours, isn’t it?” She gave him an encouraging smile, and saw the child in the basement look up hopefully. The shadows kept retreating, revealing a continuous film of dust leaking down the walls.

The beast lunged and recoiled in front of her. Her physical office was nearly in full darkness, and as the shadows in the real world progressed, the monster in the basement slowly moved away from the child, letting her approach. You’re losing power, aren’t you, Beast? she thought smugly. It growled so loudly in response that she felt tremors in her chest. Its snout split open in a wide toothy grin. Her head was ringing, but she needed to get to Devon’s inner self; she needed to show him the way. By the looks of you, Beast, my power is definitely stronger than ever. Man and child shared the same hopeful expression, though it felt less out of place in the younger face. I just need to bring Devon to the child, and you won’t have a single shadow left to hide in.

Devon looked intently at her from his chair, a shy hint of wonder shining in his eyes. Can he see me in his mind? she wondered. That would be a first. The sun was almost entirely covered. In the basement, Eloise decided it was time. She held her hand out to the child, ignoring the increasingly uncomfortable pinching sensation in her head, the throbbing in her temples. I can do this! The demon’s growls grew deeper, a low cruel laughter echoing against the concrete walls. That’s right, stay in your corner. I’m the one in charge now.

The eclipse reached its peak and the darkness of her office became one with the darkness of the mindscape. Eloise thought her head would split open. As soon as she was within reach, the child eagerly took her hand.

Eloise realized her mistake, too late.

The beast howled with laughter as black ink began dripping down the walls. As soon as their fingers touched, the child turned to dust. She gasped in horror as little pieces of him floated in front of her, getting caught in the flows of ink. The beast howled louder and louder. In her office, Devon let out a long sigh and his gaze fell out of focus. His eyes looked through her without seeing her horrified face.

“Devon?” she asked too loudly. Her heart pounded in her chest, sending waves of pain to her temples.

He gave no answer. The basement grew cold, ink pooling on the floor. She could hardly see Devon in his chair, the material of his mindscape becoming more tangible than the physical world. The beast stalked her, and it dawned on her. It’s your power that grows with the eclipse. She had walked right into its trap. No. I can fix this! Shaking, she backed up against the wall where the child had been only moments ago. It crumbled at her feet, dust blowing in the cold wind, ink coating her shoulders. My touch is destroying him. She was back in the tall grass. It was now as black as pitch. Filled with terror, she ran.

“Devon?” she cried again, unsure if she was speaking in her office, in his mind, or both. “Devon, can you hear me?”

“I hear you.” Dark is dark. I told you it’s always dark. His mind was louder than before. Every inch of faded grey was growing darker by the second.

Every leaf of grass she touched evaporated, leaving her hands coated in cold, dense ink. The edges of the mindscape were falling away into a black void. I can bring him back. I can fix this. I just need a few more minutes. Before long, she made it back to the dead tree that reached for a tempestuous sky. The world around her was vanishing into dust, falling away into nothingness. I will fight, Beast! She had no idea how.

The howls that rang in her ears made her stomach churn. She had never failed a patient before. She had never felt so scared in her life. She tried to will herself back into her office, but her gift evaded her completely. The beast, bigger than it had been in the basement, was running circles around her, laughing maniacally through fangs gleaming with thick black ink. The more the world collapsed around her, the duller Devon’s eyes became. I’ve got to get out of here! she thought desperately.

The eclipse continued to move across the sky and, slowly, the light peered back into Eloise’s office. Her headache diminished ever so slightly. The tingling in her mind began to fade. She felt herself come back to her body, but the haunting cackles of the monster followed her out. She felt her shaking hands digging into her chair’s armrests.

As soon as she could physically move again, she grabbed Devon by the shoulders. But his mind was quieter than ever. All she could hear was the laughter of the beast and her own heart beating in her ears. She saw the barren land inside him continue to fall away into darkness. Ashes filled the sky. The creature didn’t bother to hide anymore. It stared at Eloise with a victoriously toothy smile drenched in mischief. The sun shining through the windows of her office was offensive to the scene unfolding before her eyes.

I did this, she thought, horrified. My power failed me. Whatever power she wielded had turned against her. She had never seen a mind so quiet, so dead. In her gut, she knew the damage was irreversible. Worse, she knew she was to blame.

“Devon?” she pleaded, hearing the fear in her own voice. His eyes were muted, eerily refusing to reflect any light.

“Yes?” His voice was flatter than ever, his mind dead quiet.

Shaking, Eloise walked over to her desk. She frantically pulled her prescription pad out of the top drawer and scribbled a prescription for a powerful cocktail of antidepressants and sleeping pills. I can undo this. I have to undo it. She wanted him to shake off this session like the nightmare that it was. Medication. He needs medication. Sometimes, it made her treatments more efficient. In some cases, it had helped her find trails.

“I know this session was difficult on you, Devon,” she tried to keep her voice level as she walked back to him. She kneeled in front of him and grabbed his hand, shocked at her own familiarity with her patient. I’ve got you.

The monster of smoke and fur laughed at her somberly. Knowingly. It now sat, giant in infinite nothingness. She swallowed hard, her dry mouth filled with cotton. She cleared her throat.

“Here, Devon,” she said, handing him the piece of paper. “I’d like you to try this medication before our next session. Is Tuesday still alright with you?” I’ll have a better plan by then.

The creature let out a raspy chuckle while the young man stared blankly at her. He rose from his chair and took the paper, stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans without reading it.

“Tuesday.” His voice rang false. “Goodbye, Dr. Bouvier.”

“Yes. See you next week.” Her own voice cracked.

He walked out, leaving his backpack behind. She couldn’t see his mindscape at all anymore. He didn’t bother to close the door behind him.

In a trance-like state herself, Eloise went into the hidden room and shut the door. She collapsed on the floor, weeping until her teeth shook. Her collection of monsters stared back at her. She shuddered under their gaze; they no longer looked so betrayed. Hundreds of pairs of eyes looked down on her with cunning, victorious glares. What have I done?

She would not collect this one. She would never draw the smoky limbs of the creature she had met that day. She would never pin its portrait on the empty spot left on the wall.

She knew Devon would never pick up his prescription. She knew the only article she would ever read about him would be his obituary.