Mind Games

“The night terrors and cold sweats happen every night Dr and every psychiatric med I’ve taken either make me a walking zombie or gain forty pounds or I can’t stop peeing. I can’t live like this anymore.”

Lena reached across the leather sofa, grabbing her purse. Rooting around the pens, gum, old receipts and lipsticks, she found what she wanted. Pulling out a cigarette from the wrinkled pack, she lit it. 

“No smoking in here, please.”

Reluctantly placing it back in the pack, she tossed her purse on the floor.

“Ok. Fine? Whatever.” She pulled a two rubber bands out of her pants pocket. Slipping one around her long black hair in a quick ponytail, the other around her wrist, snapping it twice.

“Helps with the cravings and the crazy. So listen doc I’ve been coming here for months and nothing is really helping. I’m at the end of my rope. These vivid dreams about decapitation, and death, and a sense that I don’t belong. I need help. Now.”

“It might be time to try something a bit more radical. I think we still need to focus on talk therapy, but are you open to drinking a tea, here in a controlled environment? It’s perfectly safe.

Lena leaned in and looked at her psychiatrist with a quizzical stare. “What kind of tea?”

“It’s an herbal teal mixed with the proper dose of psilocybin.” Pulling up her chart on his tablet, he continued. “I have all of your medical history here, so I can add a tincture of micrograms to the solution. Many of my patients have been able to unlock their issues much sooner. I must be transparent with you. It may take over one event to do anything.”

“What are the side effects? Hallucinogens are dangerous. Lots of my friends at university had terrible trips and flashbacks.”

The doctor smiled. “I’m sure they were using the wrong dosage as a recreational drug. We will medically induce and control this.”

Lena leaned back into the plush leather couch. “I feel like I’ve tried everything else. Let’s do it.”

“Fantastic. Relax here and i’ll be back in five minutes with your tea.”

As soon as the doctor left, Lena started having second thoughts, but as a writer and producer, she always could try new things. She was all about risks.

Her doctor returned as promised with a steaming cup of tea. Lena tentatively took the round ceramic mug and inhaled the fragrance. Blowing on it, she took a few sips. Blowing and sipping, she finished the drink quickly.

“Now what.”

“Just relax. I’ll ask you a few questions. What year is it?”

“2021.”

“Who am I?”

“Dr Gelfsten.” 

Lena tolerated similar inane questions for an hour before she ended it.

“Dr, this is going nowhere. Aside from that small green halo around your head, nothing is happening.”

“I understand your frustration. Let’s try this again next week, same time?”

Lena agreed and grabbed her purse and headed home. Retrieving her phone from an inside pocket of her purse, she noticed a text from her friend, Anna:

WELL, ANY LUCK WITH THE HEADLESS DREAMS?

Chuckling, she responded: 

YOU THINK A CITY KNOWN FOR SHRINKS AND SWEETS LIKE VIENNA WOULD BE ABLE TO HELP!!

Pushing her phone into her pants pocket, she walked on to her apartment. Once inside, she grabbed a bottle of wine, a glass, and an ashtray and got ready for a night of nothing. Or so she thought.

Opening her eyes to the sound of birds chirping, the surroundings did not feel quite right. Her bed was made of carved wood and was monstrous. Brocaded draperies filled the multiple windows in the room and scattered throughout the room were sumptuous dresses of aquamarine, red, and canary. To her right was a bed stand with a gold pitcher and basin, and to her left, an open jewelry box filled with enough splendid rings to rival a hungry pirate. Smiling to herself, she thought. Well, this is one helluva trip.

“My Lady, my Lady. Please. We must get you dressed. The King is on his way here. Please!!”

A stunning woman in a white silk dress with long flowing sleeves and one of the oddest hats she had ever seen was shaking her.

“Lady Anne, please. We don’t want to anger the King.” Pointing to the array of dresses, she asked.

“Lady Anne, would you prefer the red one? The King enjoys seeing you in red.”

Lena was so mesmerized by the situation that she could barely form the words.

“What year is this and who is this King you keep mentioning?”

“My Lady Anne, it’s the year of our Lord, 1530. And the King is his Majesty Henry VIII. Are you well, madam? Madam, can you hear me? My Lady, my lady.”

Screaming loudly, she attracted the attention of the other women in the chamber. Grabbing one of them by the arm to help.

“Fetch the doctor quickly. Tell him Lady Anne Boleyn is ill. Hurry!!”