Chapter 10
Jason's body tingled with excitement as he approached the door to Grandma Garland's home. He'd been waiting for weeks to see Jessica again and he longed to hold her free from the protestations of the counselors. This was going to be the greatest day of his life, reuniting with her after all this time.
When Grandma Garland opened the door, the sad and concerned look on her face seemed strange and out of place. “Are you Jason?” she asked.
“Yes. Is Jessica here?”
“I'm afraid she died last night.”
The revelation sunk Jason's good mood into a well of oblivion. It was too harrowing to be believed. Jason immediately grew angry, assuming that the old woman wanted Jessica to be as good as dead to him. “She wants to see me! You have no right to keep us apart!”
Grandma Garland said, “I'm not lying to you. She died of a seizure last night. You can come in and talk about it if you want to.”
Jason remembered what Jessica had told him about the earlier seizure and the truth began to set in like a gigantic weight over his soul. Realizing that Grandma Garland seemed every bit as distressed as himself, he felt ashamed of having raised his voice. “I'm sorry,” he said as the tears formed in his eyes. “I don't wanna believe it.” The statement ended with sobbing.
“I know, dear. You're welcome to come inside and sit down. You can give your folks a call to come and get you.”
“Sure.” Jason entered the house and followed Grandma Garland into the living room.
Grandma Garland handed Jason a box of Kleenex and Jason wept.
“I can't believe she's gone,” lamented Jason.
“It's difficult for me too. She was such a sweetheart.”
The word sweetheart caused Jason to cry even more miserably. She had been the perfect girl for him and he could never find another girl like her. Everything seemed so meaningless and random now.
Grandma Garland comforted Jason for a while and then he took the bus back home. By the time he reached his parents' house, he was exhausted and he collapsed on the bed, feeling totally enervated and depressed.
From that day forward Jason's entire world was drawn into darkness and depression. Everything seemed so empty and meaningless. It was about more than losing Jessica. There had already been a whirling vortex beneath his soul, which Jessica had helped to fill. After Jessica died, Jason had trouble getting up in the morning.
Annoying thoughts began intruding into his mind. Every time he picked up a knife or a fork, a thought would intrude with the idea of stabbing himself with it. When he saw a dog or cat, a thought would intrude with the idea of engaging in bestiality with it. These alien thoughts tormented him with drainage and feelings of helplessness and entrapment.
The strange dreams also added to these feelings of helplessness and entrapment. In the dreams, he never had any control over the body or the situation that he was in. He hated being in vessels that raped girls and waking up after an ejaculation.
It was the day after Jessica's funeral that Jason went to Toby's house for the first time since he'd gotten out of the psychiatric hospital.
Toby rolled a joint and said, “You aren't afraid of your parents putting you back into the hospital?”
“It's worth the risk.”
“I'm glad you changed your mind about hanging out together.”
“Me too.”
Jason eyed the joint with anxious desire as Toby lit up and began smoking. The smell was so inviting and peaceful.
Toby handed the joint to Jason. “You're going to be high as a kite going that long without it,” observed Toby. “I wish I could do that.”
The smoke lifted Jason's senses above the doldrums of his meaningless life and his spirit once again soared. He recognized that someday he too would be dead and he should enjoy life as much as possible while he still could.
“Do you feel better now?” asked Toby, retrieving the joint from Jason. He took another puff from the joint.
“Yeah. I feel a lot better now.”
“Weed tends to have that effect on people.”
“I know. I missed smoking, but I was afraid of my parents.”
“With good reason. They put you into a hospital.”
“Jessica was the only good thing about going to that hospital and now she's dead.”
“I would disown my parents if they put me into a hospital for smoking.”
“Yeah, right,” replied Jason. He blew out a cloud of sweet tasting marijuana smoke and he asked, “Where would you stay?”
“I'd go live with my older brother.”
“I thought your older brother disappeared.”
“That's just what I tell people. He went to live with an anarchist group.”
“Where?”
“I can't say. The police still have a warrant out for his arrest.”
“Hell of a thing to have to do over unpaid traffic tickets.”
“That's not the only reason he joined. He believes in their cause.”
“The cause of anarchy?”
“The cause of freedom. That's what anarchy is really about. The freedom to do what you want without a government there to put you in a cell for victimless crimes.”
“But that would be chaos.”
“No, it wouldn't. The people could govern themselves. There are ways to run a social system without big government and big business.”
“But you can't trust everyone to act responsibly about governing themselves.”
“Yeah. There are some problems with that, but I would prefer anarchy to the current government.”
“It's not that bad.”
“You've got upper middle class parents willing to take care of you. Not everybody has that.”
“I don't think anarchy is the solution. Once the technology reaches a point where robots can perform all the manual labor, people should be given food and housing as a basic human right. But there will still need to be an overall government to regulate things.”
“People should be given those things regardless right now. Big brother will always find an excuse not to do that. They're trying to reduce the world's population through things like homelessness and disease.”
“That sounds like paranoia to me.”
“It's a fact they're doing it. My brother joined that anarchist group because he's a TI.”
“What's a TI?”
“A targeted individual.”
“Your brother thought he was being targeted?”
“I witnessed what they were doing to him. He would moan in bed at night over the electromagnetic tortures.”
“How do you know electromagnetic tortures were involved?”
“Doctors couldn't find anything wrong with him physically and he was in pain every day.”
“That's strange.”
“Like I said, the covert war against the population needs to be exposed and stopped.”
“Who's waging this covert war against the population?”
“It's generally considered to be the Central Intelligence Agency and the National Security Agency. They're both obsessed with obtaining as much surveillance as possible over all the citizens.”
“I've heard that about their need for surveillance. If they are using it as a front for covert warfare against the population, then they need to be exposed and arrested.”
“Goddamn right they need to be exposed and arrested.”
The feelings of helplessness and entrapment didn't just drive Jason back to smoking. They also impelled him to study Enochian and attempt astral projection more than ever before.
One night as Jason lay in bed, trying to project his consciousness into astral before falling asleep, Jason felt a burst near the center of his brain, expanding his consciousness outward. He found himself standing over his body in a cartoon like recreation of his bedroom. Before he could get a further look at his surroundings, Jason floated upward through the ceiling.
Jason ascended into darkness where beings composed of strange and annoyin
g colors appeared. They looked humanoid, yet their bodies radiated a garish light, which tweaked his mind with nerve pain just looking at them. The entities smiled smugly, in recognition of his annoyance and one of them said, “She wasn't really your girlfriend. She just felt sorry for you.”
This nonsensical assertion seemed to reach into Jason's mind, twisting his sanity, trying to force him to believe what he knew to be an obnoxious falsehood. The intrusion into his sanity reminded him of the forced thoughts he got while awake.
“You're a loser,” added another one of the annoying entities.
The word, loser, pressed over Jason's brain with nerve pain and he yelled, “Leave me alone you fucking sadists!”
The force of Jason's yelling propelled him upward as the entities giggled with glee at his reaction. Within moments their laughter became distant and then inaudible as Jason soared upward into the stratosphere. Soon gray clouds surrounded him and his head felt lighter. The further up he went, the whiter the clouds looked and the lighter his head felt, until he was higher than he'd ever been on marijuana.
Jason lost track of time with how high he felt and he hoped he'd died and gone to heaven. When he broke through the cloud cover and entered the realm of splendorous light, his mind became temporarily vacant of everything except euphoria, erasing his consciousness. It was after the initial thrust of euphoria over his spirit, that Jason decided he truly had died and gone to heaven. The light, which had been omnipresent at first, receded so that Jason recognized he was standing above the white clouds with an expanse of light above him.
There was a fluctuation among the expanse of light and a voice, which sounded like audible light waves spoke to him. At first Jason was too overtaken and mystified to recognize the language, but soon he felt light reaching into his brain and he recognized the highly aspirated form of speech as Enochian.
“You are in danger,” the voice warned.
Jason wondered whether he had understood the voice correctly. How could he possibly be in danger in a place like this? “Who are you?” asked Jason.
“A messenger of God. You will return to your body tomorrow morning and you must free yourself of the poisons before they erase you.”
The idea of returning to the flesh disappointed Jason. “What poisons?” asked Jason.
“The poisons you ingest every day. They will erase you if you don't quit.”
“I enjoy smoking and I'm going to die anyways.”
“The pills are more dangerous. They're trying to erase you with them.”
“But I have to take the pills. My parents make me.”
“You must purify your body of the poisons. The food you eat is growing tumorous flesh. The pills you take are depleting your blood stream. The drugs you smoke are polluting your air tracts.”
The idea of dying and returning to this realm appealed to Jason. If he could do so through poisoning his body over time, he'd do it. Hopefully, entities like this one would leave him alone when he truly was dead.
“The pills will do worse than kill you. The pixies are seizing more and more control over your mind.”
The warning about pixies reminded Jason of the entities he'd seen in the lower realms. “Why would they want control over my mind?”
“You're living in a crimes against humanity culture with a brainwashing system. The privileged elite want all the common citizens to eventually become automated beneath government systems or killed.”
“Why would they want to do something like that to innocent people?”
“They're engaging in white slavery in an underground culture. You have to protect yourself from the poisons. It's the only way for them to destroy you.”
“Why don't they just have me attacked with a weapon or something?”
“They've tried, but their servants always fall out of whack.”
As the heavenly sounding voice spoke of others falling out of whack, the supernal surroundings sank into darkness and the height was gone. Jason awoke in his bed, still feeling the light like aftereffects of the dream. It was the most energized he'd felt in years.
Although Jason was excited about attaining astral projection, he was resentful of the things he'd heard and seen. That light like entity speaking about supposed dangers in physical had detracted from his high. Jason didn't like the attempts to make him delusional about the everyday world either.
While Jason ate breakfast at the dining room table, his mother walked in and said, “You were shouting in your sleep again last night.”
“Sorry. I'll try not to do it.” The complaint annoyed him, but he shrugged it off. He was helpless against talking during his sleep.
The aftereffects of the ascension wore off over the course of the day and Jason looked forward to entering astral again. His fixation on permanently leaving the flesh had been short lived and now he was content just to enter that realm each night and return with some of the euphoria.
That night as Jason lay down in bed, trying to reenter astral, he felt a forceful pressure from the same area of the brain where the burst had occurred. Instead of entering astral again, he had a dream of the pixies pinning him down under a net so that he couldn't ascend. He was writhing under their torment, trying to free himself, when he awakened shouting, “Let me go!” He'd stubbed his big toe kicking the wall.
The dream was disheartening and bitter feelings of depression and hopelessness clouded Jason's mind as he drifted back to sleep.
The next morning Jason noticed he was developing acne and a harassing thought struck him with the idea that he'd never be able to get any other girlfriend after Jessica. Then the statement from the pixies about her pretending to be his girlfriend was forced over him, followed by the idea of suicide. Instead of succumbing to the idea of trying to overdose on the psychiatric medications, Jason thought about switching medications. If he had to see a psychiatrist once a month for medications, he might as well complain about the persecuting thoughts and ask for another type of medication.
At his next appointment with Dr. Newland, Jason said, “I think I might have schizophrenia.”
“What makes you think that?” asked Dr. Newland.
“I'm suffering unwanted thoughts that force themselves onto me and I'm afraid of going insane with it.”
“The good thing is that you recognize these thoughts for what they are. Not everyone is able to do that.”
“Is there anything that can be done to stop the thoughts from entering my mind?”
“There is a medication for this type of thing called Doloft. We could switch you off the Dithium and put you on the Doloft instead.”
“If you think it will help, I'm willing to give it a try.”
“It's been known to help with this type of thing.”
Jason felt relieved taking the prescription from Dr. Newland. Hopefully, the Doloft would drive out the unwanted thoughts as the Dithium had driven away his sleeping disorder.