To Hell and Back for You

Chapter 5: Too Close for Comfort

The hesitation I was met with was unexpected. After Ames had admitted that she was alienated and isolated, I figured she would be thrilled to share with me, an eager student, how she performed this magic of hers. Nonetheless, the woman stared at me for several moments, her lower lip quivering with uncertainty.

"It's alright," I reached forward to set my coffee mug on the table before rising to my feet, "I've taken up enough of your time and you've been more than gracious."

As I turned toward the door, however, she spoke up, "Do you have any experience at all with these sorts of things?"

Slowly facing her again, I shrugged, "No, I don't think so."

"You don't think?" she pointed, "You said you have problems with sleep."

"Well, yeah," I scratched my head, "But a lot of people do. I mean unless you count..." I trailed off when the astral traveling entered my thoughts, "Nevermind, that's different."

"What's different?" her pitch peaked, showing interest.

"I used to have this...delusion, I guess. I thought my nightmares weren't actually regular dreams and that my spirit was leaving my body while I slept," I confessed.

"And you explored this?"

"Yeah. I thought I learned control of it, but," I chuckled awkwardly, "I was also doing a shitton of drugs at the time. I haven't been able to do any of that crap since I got clean."

"But have you tried since then?" her vision narrowed as if studying me.

My silence and dumb expression was apparently all the answer she needed. The woman set her drink down next to mine and carefully pushed herself to stand, casually strolling past the back of the couch.

"I know what astral travel is, Mark," she informed without looking at me, continuing on to the painting, "It's not anything I've much practiced; my skill lies elsewhere: channeling."

"You're a psychic?" I wondered, watching her stop moving and stare at the picture of the shadow person.

Not facing me, she hummed, "I suppose you could call me that. There are different types of psychics. There are the ones who speak with spirits directly, the ones who see or sense them, some have visions of the past or future, and there are people like me, who can willingly allow a spirit other than their own to inhabit their body alongside them. We have to be careful to remain in control, however, and be careful of what we let in. Many times, channels who haven't honed their power will have unwanted visitors pop in and out."

"I remember doing some reading on that in the past," I began stepping closer to the easel where her attention had remained fixated, "So that's how you get them? You channel their spirit?"

"Mhm," she finally removed her gaze and placed it on me, "These things are more difficult than they sound, you already know that, don't you, Mark?"

There was a coyness in her attitude that gave both a sweet and sly sense, making my mind battle between feeling at ease around her and being suspicious. Part of me kept considering how she had gone out of her way to be kind and helpful while another side warned that I shouldn't trust dabbling in these affairs.

Whether I was on the verge of slipping into madness again or all this supernatural stuff was true, it had never had truly positive effects in my life. Shouldn't I simply heed the word of medical professionals and stay on the straight and narrow? Although, I had gotten clean only to remain trudging through life like a zombie. What if now that I was stable, using that term loosely, I could finally approach matters with some semblance of safety and clarity?