Oleksandr Dan - Insomvita

Robert could not tear his surprised and enthralled gaze off the Christmas tree. This was the first time in his life that he had seen such a wonder.

Robert could not tell if what he was seeing was real. He looked around and to his surprise saw that he was in a different, tidy, foreign room. It was light and spacious, with walls painted bright yellow and a blue ceiling blazoned with tiny, skillfully painted stars. New furniture clung to the walls, which were adorned with an entire library of the most varied of books.

On the other side of the room stood a black lacquered piano, ready to be played. And toys – dozens, maybe even hundreds of toys. The sheer abundance of playthings made him dizzy. There were small and big model cars, leather balls for football and basketball, but most importantly there was a huge model railway set. Its tracks wound around the Christmas tree and throughout the room. There were tunnels, lights, bridges, and other incredible details beyond Robert’s wildest dreams. Above his bed a model of a real aircraft hung on invisible threads. Everything was astounding and incomprehensible.

Robert sat on the bed, his eyes wide open with bewilderment and fascination. This was the first time he had experienced such a vivid dream and he did not want this fairytale to end. Robert shut his eyes dreamily…

“Robert, get up! How many times do I have to call you?!" his mom called from the kitchen. She approached Robert’s bed and shook his shoulder.

Robert opened his eyes and got up. He was still in his old room. There was the small Christmas tree on the table in the middle of the floor. The bright colors had vanished, as did all the toys. On the wall next to Robert’s bed hung a photo of a new car from an automobile magazine, pinned wall with blue plasticine at the four corners.

His mother was making a ruckus in the kitchen.

Sitting on his bed, Robert tried to comprehend what had just happened to him. Suddenly he realized what had startled and flustered him the most. In his dream the woman had called him Trevor, and it sounded normal to him, not surprising at all, although he had never heard the name in his life. Why Trevor? Where was he just now? What kind of dream was it, why was it so vivid, real, almost genuine? And why auntie?

But the dream had vanished like a fairytale.

Amanda’s office was on the third floor of a seven-story building on Rue du Cendrier 19, in the very heart of Geneva. Jovan was waiting for Trevor at the front entrance after his session. Trevor greeted his friend with a warm hug and a slap on the shoulder. They quickly ascended the wide stairs and stopped at the door. Under the intercom button, the plaque read “Amanda Fabian – Psychologue [16] Psychologue (fr.) – psychologist ”.

“Is she Belgian?” asked Trevor, but Jovan had already pressed the button.

A tall young man in this thirties dressed in a black suit and tie with smoothly combed dark hair opened the door.

“Please, come in, Mr. Jovan, Amanda is expecting you,” he said and looked at Trevor. “You must be Mr. Blanche. Hello. Let me take down your details. I need to enter them into our system.”

Victor started entering the information, while Trevor listened to the music that played on the computer. It seemed very familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint it.

“This is…” Trevor said, pointing at the speakers, but Victor was ahead of him.

“Yes, that’s Parisienne Walkways. Do you like it? Here are your documents. Please, go in,” he said seriously and indicated the door.

“Hello again, Amanda. I’d like to introduce my friend, Trevor Blanche,” said Jovan and looked back to see Trevor entering the doctor’s office. “Trevor, this is Amanda, my guardian angel.”

Trevor and Amanda looked at each other and shook hands. Usually Trevor did not like it when a woman offered her hand to a man, believing handshakes to be solely a guy thing. But now, pressing Amanda’s hand, he did not take notice of it, and he could not tear his eyes away from her wonderfully blue, even turquoise eyes against the dark complexion of her face. Indeed, Amanda’s eyes were of a rare kind of bluish green; they seemed to absorb whoever dared to look into them. Trevor had never been drawn in by such a stare. At the same time, it was a look of puzzlement, a look of frank amazement. In an instant, however, Amanda regained her composure, cast a glance at Jovan and turned back to look defiantly at Trevor.

Blood rushed to his face, but he held her stare.

“Hello, Mr. Blanche. So, you are the one who doubts the power of hypnosis and believes that all hypnotists are charlatans?” Amanda smirked.

Jovan probably had told her about his attitude, Trevor mused.

Amanda pointed to two leather chairs and continued: “Hypnosis is not a means to an end for a psychologist. Hypnosis is a set of instruments for effective work with our consciousness and subconscious, a way to fight fears, treat addictions and resolve psychological issues.”

“It’s not about whether I believe in the power of hypnosis,” answered Trevor as he sunk into the soft chair. “I highly doubt that hypnosis is an effective method of treatment. After all, a state of hypnosis is essentially a state of forced sleep. And what can you cure with sleep, except fatigue?”

Amanda sat down at the table, folding her fingers in the shape of a pyramid. She listened intently to Trevor, eyes piercing him.

“Whether you believe in hypnosis or not is not what is most important. You may or may not believe in the surgeon’s scalpel or dentist’s drill. Those things are merely medical instruments. However, in the hands of an experienced doctor, they become a means for obtaining information or achieving a goal.”

Trevor watched Amanda. He was in no hurry and he caught himself thinking that he was enjoying her company. Yet Trevor felt uneasy. He saw compassion in Amanda’s eyes, the look a doctor would give their patients before telling them positive test results or notifying them of a serious disease. There was no doubt that Amanda was prepared for this conversation and the ultimate goal of her speech was to demonstrate the necessity of holding a hypnotherapy session with him. What was it? Professional interest, the desire to attract a new client, or something else hidden behind the easy conversation between psychologist and patient?

Whatever it was, on that day, Amanda flipped an invisible, hidden switch in Trevor’s head that was to lead to unexpected, unpredictable and fatal consequences for the both of them.

“What’s bothering you, Trevor?” Amanda asked after seeing Jovan to the door and giving Trevor all her attention.

“Insomnia. I’ve accumulated some real fatigue, plus all the trips and flights. For about ten days now.”

“Many psychologists treat insomnia with different techniques of hypnosis. Indeed, quick results can be achieved only with the help of suggestion. I use hypnotic regression, find the hidden reason behind the insomnia, treat and remove it. This method leads to positive results in most cases, while the client may get some relief right after the first session.

“Do you think insomnia can be treated in one session?”

“I am sure of it,” said Amanda. “You will immediately feel better. Have you ever had a session of hypnosis?

Trevor recalled street magicians he had seen, hypnotists with their “fake” people from “the crowd” and smiled.

“No, Amanda. I’ve never been into this sort of thing. These tricks don’t interest me.”

Amanda was also watching Trevor curiously. She liked men like Trevor, but her clients were mostly people with serious issues, bad habits and mental illness. In the case with Trevor, she realized that confident men suffered from almost the same insecurities and issues as the others, but they are able to skillfully conceal them from prying eyes. She also realized that in order for the session to proceed successfully, she needed to know more about the patient.