Chapter 2

“Wait,” I said, looking back and forth between my mother and Dr. Williamson. “He’s a hypno-therapist?”

“That’s right,” the doctor said, his calm demeanor making me wonder if I was just wildly over-reacting.

No. Mom’s strange behavior, the way she’d been constantly picking on me lately...

Surely I wasn’t being crazy to maybe suspect the man who’d been hypnotizing her of being responsible for the changes in my mother...

Now I don’t know much about hypnotism. My understanding is that you can’t make anyone do anything they don’t want to do ... but hell, maybe Mom did want me to be a teenager again, someone she could control, order around. Someone who listened to her, respected her.

Not that I didn’t respect her, of course. But ... well, maybe Mom wanted to go back to a time when I was a kid, instead of a young professional, on the verge of moving out.

On the verge of leaving her.

Don’t get me wrong - I’d thought about how much it would hurt Mom, her only child moving away, leaving her alone in a house where she’d had so many good memories with Dad.

But, I mean ... I deserve a life as well. And I planned on coming back for dinner at least once a week, and had tried to spend more time with her before I left (at least, before she turned into the controlling mother from hell).

So the moment I learned Dr. Williamson’s specialty, I was pretty worried about what he was doing to my mother.

My fears must have manifested on my face, because he looked at me, a small smile on his face.

“You’re worried,” he said, and I barely refrained from snapping “Fuck yeah” back at him.

Instead, I just nodded.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, gesturing to his office. “Why don’t you come and watch one of your mother’s sessions - don’t worry Mathilda, we won’t go into anything you’re not comfortable with - and then you can tell me if you’re still apprehensive about my methods.”

You’re being ridiculous, I told myself as I realized I was still hesitant. Your mother will be right there ... and besides, he can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.

“Fine,” I said, and a shiver ran down my spine as his smile broadened. As I followed him and my mother into the small, sterile office, I wondered if I was making a huge mistake.

The session started out simply enough. Dr. Williamson had a comfortable chair set to the side - almost as if he knew I was coming - for me to sit in, and I perched on the edge to watch him work.

My mother lay down on the couch (turns out it’s not just an expression). There was a small machine on the table in the middle of the room, and the doctor turned it on.

Immediately the room was filled with a strong throb. I want to say it was a noise, but I couldn’t actually tell you what it sounded like - my ears felt it more than heard it, and soon my whole body did as well.

The throbbing got more and more intense. I could feel it in my head, in my heart, in my gut. I could feel it in my legs, between my legs - my entire body suddenly wanted to tune into it, wanted to understand it.