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// Chapter 12: Shadows of the mind 
// Story: What you Need 
// by Hemlock conium 
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Most of my hospital stay was as bland as one could expect. Though, admittedly I tried to spend as much of it as I could away from that place. Opting to instead spend it back in the endless flat field of my home town; one of sporadic breezes carrying with them a fresh wave of moisture all the while the sun gently beat down on its open fields.  
The land was far from pleasant, in fact many people I’d know hated the coastal climate, but it was home. A home I had long yearned to return to. Its green covered fields waited for me. They  called out for me like a siren and like a helpless sailor, I came. As my mind embraced the familiar visage I felt my feet meet the freshly damped soil. My short unkempt hair gently rustled as the familiar gust of the tempered air disturbed it. On those same winds came the nostalgic smell of freshly dewed grass. 	
For a brief moment I let my eyes relax, so that I could take in the simple sound of the waving fields, but like every time I tried to return, my home was tainted with something that didn't belong. However this time it was not the sound of doctors, the external feeling of movement or any outside stimuli. Instead it came from within my inner sanctum; it came from an all too familiar southern drawl. 

“You know, this isn’t right,” HE called out. His words attempting to poison my memory, to taint it. As my eyes snapped back open to find Him, I witnessed the familiar fields melting away  like ice in the summer sun. Then from underneath it emerged the street I had spent a majority of my childhood on. In its center loomed my old home. It stood over the street like an eldritch horror. Its imposing size casting an impossibly long shadow over the street. Its size reached far higher than humanly possible, so far in fact that it blocked out the very sky. I felt my body become struck with the consistency of Jell-O at the visage, though I don’t quite know why. As imposing as this version was, it was my childhood home, a home in which I only hold found memories of. As my gaze searched for the answer to my fear they fell upon the source of the cursed voice. The same one who’d taken everything from me. 

He leaned up next to the front door looking over a small antique pocket watch. He was still in His pristine black suit and slacks; carrying the same dusty briefcase. His expression was difficult to read and His body language even more so. But as I tried to figure him out he spoke up once more. 
“We both know, as much as you're trying to ignore it, this was your reality here.” His voice carried with it the weight of a thousand suns and His words stuck to me like nails. I Wanted to argue, to tell Him he was wrong, but they’re weight kept my voice down and their truth sliced through any reasoning my mind might have given. So my body stood there in silence until He seemed to become annoyed with this one way exchange. 
“You don't seem entirely convinced,” He continued, “maybe it's best I remind you why you’re in Equestria.” My body ran cold at the threat, my heart twisted in knots, and my stomach sank.  What does He mean? I’m in Equestria because he tricked me, I thought.

But a simple, “I don’t know what you mean,” was all I could muster in defiance. The old man gave a tired and rugged sigh glancing over His pocket watch before snapping it closed and burying it in His pocket. 

“Very well Phoenix, we'll do this the hard way. Just know I don't get any pleasure from this,” He lied. Though of course He lied, so far the only thing He had told me that was true was I’d be in Equestria. But I wasn’t happier or fulfilled there, just home sick. Then His hand slowly jiggled the front door open; revealing an infinite expanse of nothingness.
“This Phoenix, is why you're in Equestria.” My eyes fell into the tangible nothingness. Yet at the same time I knew something was there. Something buried deep at the heart of this endless expanse, only I did not know what.

“I- I don’t understand.” My reply caused Him to let out another exhale of air as his head slowly lowered and swayed to the side. 

“Course you don’t,” He muttered to himself, “though it's because you refuse to understand and that's the simple truth.”  My mind swirled in confusion as it tried to understand what He was saying. But the meaning was allusive, slipping out of my grasp whenever I thought I had a hold on it.
“Come along now,” he continued, “My time is very limited and you need all the help you can get.” Suddenly I felt my body fly forward; becoming consumed by the endless void inside the front door.  Though nothing may not have been the right word, for it had a feeling akin to that of water. It felt as though I'd been forced under an invisible liquid, but unlike any liquid I knew, I did not float nor did I suffocate. Instead I fell and ascended through the vastness all at once while oxygen poured into my lungs. 
Then for the briefest of moments I felt nothing, just the endless expanse of emptiness. Like I was suspended in a complete vacuum. But just as quickly as it came, it vanished; being replaced by the sudden appearance of my childhood bedroom. Though the most bizarre part was that of an adolescent version of myself sitting in the middle, talking to themselves as they played with a series of toys I had long since forgotten. They seemed content but not happy. 

“Where am I,” I managed to ask as my shock began to wear off.

“When, might be a more apt question. But, we're in your memories. We’re here so I can make a point and so you can see your problem.” My hand rubbed my head in confusion. After being sent to Equestria this wasn’t the most impossible thing I had ever heard, but it was still no less perplexing. After a few moments I reached out to try and touch my younger self to see if it was for real, only for The old man’s voice to cut me off. 
“This is only a memory, so to speak. You can't change or affect it, only relive and learn from it.” 

“And what might I be learning,” I asked all while my mind still tried to put all the piercings together, “I lived through it, there's nothing new here.” This puzzle, His point, seemed solvable. As if I had pierced enough of it together to have a vague idea but not know the specifics. Though as my brain tried to make sense of it, he spoke once more.

“You may have been through this but I’d hardly call it living,” He retorted, “You’re here because you choose to live in a fantasy. I’m simply aiding you in escaping it. But first you must see it to find the exit.” 

“I have no interest in living in Equestria!” I could feel my emotions start to flair up once more. Like a firework, the fuse had been lit and I was now set off with only one trajectory. Anger. Though I don’t know what it was for. While I was mad that He had sent me to Equestria, the anger I had now came from something else. It was an inexplicable and internal rage. The closest my mind could come to describe it was: like a mother bear protecting her cubs from something. Only I don’t know what I was protecting myself from.

“That is not the fantasy I was talking about, though that still is one you might want to get sorted out. The fantasy I refer to is one you are constantly living in and don't even know it.” His voice was cool and collected, but held just the subtle hint of disappointment. Then just like a firework my anger had exploded and dissipated into nothingness at this reply. I was left with nothing other than confusion and the feeling of that protectiveness. If he wasn't talking about my day dreams, then I had no guess as to what he meant. 
“ These daydreams do feed into your real problem, yes. But,” he paused for a long moment as if waiting to see if my struggling brain could piece it together, “It is so much more. It's like a cancer eating you away and yet you look at only the symptoms and think that must be the problem. But no Phoenix, your mind set in Equestria is simply the symptom of a much greater issue.” 

“Quit speaking in your riddles and metaphors and tell me so I can alleviate this so-called cancer.” 

“Phoenix, I could tell you. But if I did, you’d learn nothing and just let it fester. It would be like telling a Kid not to put their leg in an ant nest. Sure they might listen, but they'll never truly understand why until they experience it first hand. We're here so you can see and understand this cancer first hand. That is the only way to start the healing process. Unfortunately you’re more stubborn than we gave you credit for, and despite all this you still refused to acknowledge it. You know it's there eating away at you, you can feel it, see its consequences,” he paused gritting his teeth in frustration, ”yet you choose to let it fester! That is why I must make you see it so that you will be forced to acknowledge it. Typically my superiors don't like us Intervening in our patients recovery process. But I’ve run the numbers and you're simply too stubborn to look at it on your own, and so, here we are...Hear me well Phoenix, do not waste this outreach, simply because you hold some petty resentment towards me.” The whole while I could still feel the fragments of burning annoyance pierce me with every accusation. His gaze then turned from me to the child version of myself. Looking at it with a saddened expression. 
“Now I'll give you a chance to answer my questions Phoenix, keep in mind the answers are for you not me. So please don’t make this difficult. This is only to help you.” He then went quiet and pulled out the pocket watch once more, flicking it open. A blinding light briefly spewed out of it before time around us seemed to race forward. Days began to pass by in minutes. The memory of myself blazed around at inhuman speeds. Nearly as fast as I could blink they were in the next day, repeating  the same boring ritual of: waking up, eating, followed by locking themselves away to play with their toys.
“Now Phoenix, why did you stick to your room so much?” I stood quiet. It was a simple and easy answer and yet I couldn't find myself to say it. Something in me kept me from answering. After waiting several minutes The old man let out a a frustrated groan. 
“Fine then,” he continued as irritation finally broke through to his voice, “you were an only child, living alone with your mother. Who was busy studying college in the morning and working at night. Leaving you largely alone. So you did what any child did and played with your toys. Escaping to make believe, to pass your days.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“In normal circumstances no. But like most things in life moderation is what counts and you’re time spent parenting was anything but moderate. Whole weeks would pass with your only social interactions being to say good night to your mother, because you were consumed in your own world.”



“And what's the harm in that? My family was busy and so I played to pass the time” The old man clenched the bridge of his nose, disappointment sinking in like a coach who had just watched his star kicker miss the easiest goal of his life. 

“I-...” for a long few moments it seemed I had broken Him. He had nothing to say. I was about to give myself a mental victory point for having frustrated The man. But as the thought passed he spoke up again.
“Maybe a more direct consequence is in order.” As the words left his mouth he opened my bedroom door, and pulled me into the void once more. Though this time I was immediately brought to a new location. This time it was my elementary school. 
A large carpeted floor with rugs listing out the alphabet and numbers were thrown across the floor, desks and chairs placed haphazardly along them. Messes of toys, simple books and knick-knacks cluttered the desk, frequently spilling out onto the floor. Most of which other children swiftly picked up and played with again. It wasn't until I saw The old man's finger that I found myself in the sea of children. His finger beamed a straight line to a desk in which I saw, scribbling away at a piece of paper. Making a drawing of dozens of different fantasy lands, characters from my favorite shows and toys. The child version of myself seemed enthralled and frustrated all at once with his crude doodles. I felt a hot blush of embarrassment run over my cheeks as I examined the poorly made drawings. I looked to The old man to figure out why we were here, and as my face turned to meet His, He spoke again. 

“It's free time and you opted not to play with your friends instead deciding to draw. Why?” This time I found myself able to actually answer. 

“I didn’t have friends-” But before I could elaborate, His irate voice cut me off.

“Because other children were mean and you didn’t like what was popular so you had no common interest.”  

“And? What's the problem?” To which He only became more frustrated and shook his head. He then flicked His watch again, speeding us through time. New places and faces surrounded me, and new activities found their way into my hands, but the general set up was always the same. I’d stay locked whatever I was doing, ignoring most outside stimuli. I glanced at the rapidly changing scenery then back to him, with a look of expectancy for him to answer. 

“I told you at the beginning. You must come to the conclusion of your problem yourself. If I tell you, you'll likely not believe it or not act because you underestimate the severity of its impact. Such lessons in life can only be learned through experience, not through tutelage.” I rolled my eyes at His vagueness before returning to the scene playing out in front of me. Soon we stopped through a new door into a new classroom, only this time we were now in one of my high school classes. Days went by of me going through class, keeping to myself. Until the teacher called for a group assignment.
“You elected to do it yourself. Why?” I shook my head at his insistence before finally calming down enough to answer his stupid lesson. 

“Because I didn't trust the other students to do their half of the work.”

“You were in a college level course with some of the most dedicated students of your class Phoenix,” he retorted

“That doesn't mean anything. They could still just as easily fall behind.” 

“And yet you failed to turn it in on time because you couldn't make the deadline by yourself, even after your teacher insisted you work with someone else.” 

“I got busy okay! I still passed,” I grumbled as my voice trailed off into a series of petty insults. The old man closed his eyes and looked up, his eyes deep in thought for a long moment. His lips pursed out as his tongue rolled along it so that his voice might be free. Yet no words came out. After contemplating what felt like an eternity he skipped us forward towards a new door. 

This one’s exit displayed me in college. Well my room technically, taking online college. I kept my door locked as I spaced out to some music and tip taped away to my computer. A tranquil set of isolation began to overtake my past self. Enveloping into an almost rhythmic typing as they let the screen absorb them from the outside world.
“Why’d you opt for online? You know it's harder. Plus you don't get the assistance from other students doing the same thing as you,” The old man asked. 

“I was busy with work. I needed flexibility.” I instinctually reported, well before my mind had time to process the question.

“Your boss said he'd work with your schedule.”

“We were short staffed. I'd feel bad if I weren't available,”  This answer was still clearly not the one He was looking for. 

“Phoenix, your beating around the bush to evade the actual answer. And for that matter the problem. I know you know the answer, you’re still just refusing to acknowledge it.” I folded my arms in defense at the baseless accusation. My head in a display of my foul temper quickly swung to the left, gazing out my window and into an oncoming hail of rain. It was quite the sight too. Its thick layers of water bloated out anything maybe more than a foot in. Light too was snubbed out by its presence. Leaving only a navel blue inky void of rain. 
My gaze studied the splendor full visage for some time, watching as it rolled across the land, consuming the world in its wake. Until The old man shook me to attention again. 

I let out an annoyed groan as I turned to face him, demanding he just tell me my supposed cancer already or scram. Or better yet take me home. Unfortunately he said the last option was beyond him. To which I turned my gaze back to the oncoming downpour once more, ignoring the rest of his explanation. As I did, the storm was finally upon us, beating down on the room this a deafening series of pounds, while wind howled on. It's dark visage seeming to absorb the light of the room. Every drop tried to wriggle its way in the safety of the house. Demanding to let itself bloat out the light inside as well. 

The old man shook me once more to try and get my attention, but by now I had enough of His games. Tired of his indirect half answers and cryptic replies. So instead I shrugged Him off and opened my window in hopes it might snuff Him out too. As the window flew open water flooded my memory, washing it and The old man away. 
I let my body float in the water for a long few moments, letting the current take me where it pleases. But finally my lungs gave out and the waters slowly faded away as I awoke back in my hospital bed gasping for breath.