Brian's breath came in ragged gasps, his heart struggling to keep up with his legs.
Brian…
All around him, a blur of mono-yellow passed him by as he dashed and darted through twists and turns in the maze. Growling and footfalls rose louder behind him, trailing like his shadow.
Brian…
He suddenly stopped before a dead-end at the end of the corridor, with nowhere else to turn and no way to go back. He backed up against the wall, clutching onto his head and squinting his eyes shut as he braced himself for a gruesome demise.
“-Brian…where did you go?”
Brian snapped back to reality, blinking away the fleeting, flickering afterimages of his ordeal as he looked around himself. His breathing was shallow and fast, as was his heartbeat.
“Remember the exercise I taught. Tell me five things you see.”
Brian's eyes rapidly darted about in a fervent search for things with which to ground himself. “U-um…well…there's a calendar on the wall; says the year ‘2019’…uh, you sitting across from me…your sapphire pendant…the nameplate on your desk — ‘Doctor White’.”
Gradually, Brian's heart rate slowed down and his breathing deepened, to which Doctor White nodded approvingly. “See? It seems to be quite effective.” Brian could only nod quietly, still feeling somewhat on edge.
“Seems like you were experiencing an intense panic attack just now. Tell me, Brian; what’s troubling you? I feel that you still haven’t yet fully opened up to me…”
Brian stared out the window, scoffing while shaking his head dismissively. “Doesn't matter, you’d never believe anyways. You’ll just think I'm crazy and put me on meds.”
“Brian, I promise this is a safe, judgement-free space. You paid for my treatment, so at the end of the day, it is my job to help you.”
“Well, it’s more like my wife convinced me to pay for your treatment. I only did it so she might worry a little less.” Brian sighed.
After a brief pause, he hesitantly decided to finally open up a small amount. "Well, I'm sure you can probably guess what happened. I saw that place again…"
"The one with the yellow walls? The one you call 'The Backrooms'?" Doctor White clicked her pen, beginning to write down on her notepad. Uh-oh. But he had already let too much slip by now, and so he reluctantly continued.
“You know stories like The Wizard of Oz or Alice in Wonderland? Or hell, even Narnia.”
Doctor White slowly nodded. “Yes…what about them?”
“The character goes on an entire journey in another world, meeting people similar to those in the real world and sometimes living out entire lives before returning, only to find that it was all a dream and barely any time passed.”
“What exactly is your point?”
“When I was in my coma…I experienced something similar. The whole thing fucked up my perception of reality. Now I have a hard time trusting things to be what they seem. Part of me even questions whether this here is real. I keep trying to tell myself that place wasn't real…but I just can't shake it. No matter what, I see it in everything, everywhere I go. Everything somehow finds a way of reminding me…”
Doctor White slowly nodded with understanding. “I understand. There have indeed been numerous cases of people living out entire lives within their own minds while comatose. It's not as uncommon as you think.”
Brian's eyes almost appeared to glaze over, his voice tasking on a more subdued tone. "The nightmares are the worst part. That's when it feels the most real. It's like I'm back there again, going through all the same horrors. Almost like my mind's imprinted with someone else's memories, bleeding into my subconscious." He paused to study Doctor White's expression. She was unreadable, simply staring at Brian and listening intently. It almost made him feel uneasy. "…I should probably stop, I'm sorry. I know how crazy this all sounds-"
Doctor white raised a hand. "Please, continue. I think we may be starting to get somewhere. Why don't you tell me how all of this makes you feel?"
Brian paused, drawing a heavy sigh as he buried his face in his hands, rubbing his face. "Honestly…I think I'm in Hell. I thought I escaped, but now I'm just in another form of it. I was in another world for ten years…only to find I was in a coma for three days. It's been five whole years since I woke up, but I still haven't gotten over this. And now, it feels like having any semblance of a normal life is completely beyond my grasp…”
Doctor White slowly nodded, setting her notes down upon her desk. "Well, fortunately for you, I do not believe you are crazy, nor do I believe you need to be medicated — not yet, at least." She opened a drawer in her desk, pulling out an empty journal and handing it to Brian. "From now until our next session, I want you to try writing in this journal. I find that writing down your own thoughts helps you to work them out better. A little meditation and mindfulness could go a long way too…" she said with a warm smile.
Brian eventually made it home, sighing as his shoulders finally dropped. He was almost surprised by himself when he realized just how much tension he had been holding all day. Upon opening the door, he was greeted by his wife Jessica, followed soon by his 5-year-old son Zack.
"Dad!" Zack exclaimed, throwing himself against Brian for a hug.
"Oof! Hey there, kiddo!" Brian chuckled, almost stumbling back before catching himself, ruffling his son's hair playfully. He then accepted a hug and kiss from Jessica.
"How was work, honey?" Jessica asked.
Brian shrugged. "Y-know, same old same old."
"…And how was therapy?"
Brian froze momentarily, his shoulders stiffening slightly before dropping again as he allowed himself to relax. "It was…you know, we're making good progress…" He murmured, before abruptly rushing upstairs and into his study. Jessica stared up the staircase with a concerned frown, holding Zack close by her side.
Not too long later, Jessica decided to check on Brian. She went upstairs, passing by the walls with newly added white wallpaper (it had previously been yellow, but Brian absolutely insisted on replacing it). As expected, she found Brian in his study — or, well, what was supposed to be his study. Currently, it more-so resembled a detective's investigation room, with disheveled documents strewn about. On a nearby shelf were books about labyrinths, psychology, alchemy, and mythology. Brian sat at his desk, pouring over a book while muttering to himself and scrawling scribbles into the notebook that Doctor White had given him. Nearby was a half-empty bottle of whiskey. Upon sensing Jessica's presence in the doorway, Brian briefly looked up from his "research" to see her in the reflection of his whiskey bottle. He also stared at his own reflection in the glass, wincing upon realizing just how much he had let himself go; his facial hair was grown out into a short, disheveled beard, and the hair on his head was starting to form into a mullet was it reached the bottom of his neck.
As Jessica stood in the doorway, she looked about at its current state. "I, erm, thought you were practicing Feng Shui…" she murmured, clearing her throat. "This doesn't seem very, uh, Feng Shui to me."
Brian sighed, rubbing his face. "I was working on it before, but it hasn't really helped."
A faint frown crossed Jessica's face as she stepped through the room, careful to avoid stepping on or tripping over any of the scattered books and documents. “God, you're starting to seem like my crazy aunt…” she scoffed, before seeing Brian's expressions and feeling a tinge of regret for saying that. “I'm sorry, honey, I didn't mean-”
“No, it’s okay, I understand…” Brian sighed, nodding slightly. “I would think I was crazy too."
Jessica gently took his hands. "You remember the promise you made me when Zack was born, right?"
Brian slowly nodded. "Yeah…that I would try to put this all behind me for the sake of our son."
"He's five years old now…and you still haven't let this go." Jessica sighed. "I know I can't force your healing, that wouldn't be right. But I just wish you'd realize that, whatever happened, that nightmare is over. You're home, you're safe. And you should allow yourself to fully return to the real world."
Brian sighed. "I know, I know. It's just…doing this is one of the only ways for me to still feel sane. At this point, the only thing that could really give me peace is definitive evidence that my experiences were real in some way…”
“Okay, ‘Johnny Truant’,” Jessica said teasingly, as she embraced Brian in a hug and kissed him. She was smiling, but…there was still a faint sadness in her eyes as she looked at him. "When you're finished up here, help me put our son to bed, okay?" With that, Jessica left the room.
Brian's attention returned to the notebook. He had been attempting to try some of the writing exercises that Doctor White had given with it. The current one was to write one-word descriptors of his current state; how he felt, what he felt.
Unfortunately, what he wrote didn't reflect well on his state. "Tired, Anxious, Paranoid, Tense, Restless" were but some of the words written down. Gradually his writing became faster, sloppier, nearly devolving into manic scribbles. Before he knew it, his pen had suddenly run out of ink. Frustrated, Brian threw the pen aside and slammed the journal shut. He could have sworn that he saw his own shadow briefly move in his peripheral vision, but he dismissed it as his own tiredness.
After helping Jessica put Zack to bed, Brian headed downstairs to lock up the house and turn off all the lights for the night. He filled a glass of water for himself, but as he began to head back upstairs, he suddenly tripped, spilling the water onto the floor. "Great…" he scoffed, grabbing some paper towels to clean up the mess. However, he stopped in his tracks when he noticed something peculiar about the way the water puddle formed on the floor. It separated into two puddles, with a good few inches of dry floor between them. It was as if there was some unseen gravitational axis at work.
As Brian turned his head, his eyes then caught another peculiar sight. We could have sworn that the refrigerator was supposed to be completely flush against the wall, yet now he saw an entire inch of space between the fridge and the wall.
Of course, those two things on their own were just weird, one of which probably resulting from misremembrance. Nothing to freak out over. Brian soaked up the puddle with the paper towels and then threw them out, before heading towards the basement to lock it up next.
Upon opening the door, Brian nearly stumbled as he was caught off guard by the sight before him. Rather than the staircase leading to his basement, he was instead greeted by a yawning, spiraling fractal expanse of liminal Escherian stairwells. He did a double-take, shaking his head. "Nope." He slammed the door shut. "It's not real, you're just hallucinating, you're crazy…" he told himself repeatedly, before opening the door again. Almost to his surprise, the basement stairs were normal once more. Huh, maybe I really am crazy.
Brian cautiously entered the basement, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He gradually allowed his guard to lower as he proceeded further down the halls to find the light switch. But it was then that he began to notice a particular chevron-patterned wallpaper appearing on the walls. He felt his stomach drop, and instantly turned around to go back. But when he did, he found that his basement had vanished, instead finding himself completely stranded in the middle of Level 0.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck…” Brian repeated, panicking as he felt his breath and heartbeat quicken. He rubbed his eyes, pinched himself, slapped his face, even banged his head on the wall, but it did nothing to rescue him from this place. “This isn't real, I’m just having another episode…” He tried to reassure himself. This wasn't the first time it had happened since his coma, far from it. But every time it did, it felt just as real as it had when he was in the coma itself. He knew that his only choice was to ride this episode out until it ended, and so he gathered his resolve and proceeded to press deeper into the level.
The environment was quiet…much too quiet. But the silence was quickly broken by an ear-piercing, bloodcurdling howl. Like a starting gun, this was Brian's cue to start running.
Brian went as fast and as far as his body could physically allow him to go. He ran like his life depended on it, because as far as he knew, it did. He came to a stop just in front of a narrow passageway between two walls. Turning around, he came face-to…something with the monster pursuing him. In a flicker, it metastasized into several creatures, all swarming towards him like a pack of rabid dogs. He turned back towards the gap in the walls, knowing that it was his only way forward, the only way to avoid death. Steeling himself, he crammed himself through the crevice, frantically shimmying and shuffling. The creatures were not too far behind, slamming their bodies against the wall and attempting to force themselves through the crevice, creating a bottleneck. Brian could see them reaching their dark, spindly, vaguely hand-shaped appendages out towards him — some beckoning, some desperate, some despairing, and some hungry.
As Brian finally made his way out the other side of the gap, he stumbled onto the floor, landing face-first with a thud that knocked the wind out of his lungs. Looking up, he found himself surrounded by the group of dark wiry beings, who had quickly caught up to him. The tallest of the collective stood closest to him, slowly leaning down. Brian found himself hyperventilating, his heart feeling like it would burst from his chest as the creature slowly inched closer to his face.
But then…nothing happened. The creature did not attack. It simply stood there, almost as if observing Brian. Then, it proceeded to stand back up, reaching towards its chest cavity and tearing it open to reveal a beating human heart. Despite the intense, gruesome visual, there was something oddly calming about it. Instantly, Brian felt all of his terror dissipate, and he no longer regarded the creature with fear. He no longer saw it as an unknown to be feared, but rather another “living” (loose term in this context) being just like himself. “I…don’t understand…” Brian spoke aloud, pondering this surreal interaction.
The crowd of beings then parted, all silently pointing to an exit door that Brian could have sworn was not there previously. All you ever had to do was follow the sign… he heard the Spright say as it reformed and merged back into one, yet the words were never spoken, only heard within his own mind.
Brian opened the door, before suddenly awakening with a start in a cold sweat, finding himself in bed with his sleeping wife. He drew a heavy sigh of both relief and fatigue. “Fucking nightmares…”
The next day, Brian was sitting in his office in front of his computer, staring absentmindedly at the screen. He had an idea – well, it wasn't exactly a new idea, but it was one that he had been avoiding up until now. He wanted to leave room for plausible deniability, so that even if his experiences were false, he could at least continue to live with the belief that they were genuine. But now, his desire — no, his need for the truth far outweighed all else. If he was to find that he was in fact a madman, then so be it. Brian typed one name into his search engine: Aelita River
It had been six months since River was declared legally deceased, as so many years had already passed since hir initial disappearance. Those who knew hir said that it was almost like ze had completely vanished off the face of the Earth. Upon learning this information, and seeing the photos of River, there was not a single doubt left in Brian’s mind. After a brief road trip, he soon found himself in a cemetery, standing over River’s cenotaph. It was surreal to gaze upon it. To know that this person he encountered was in fact real, which in turn meant that his experiences were likely real as well.
“Excuse me, what are you doing here?” called a voice.
Brian turned around to see a middle-aged man and woman standing nearby, holding a bouquet of flowers. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. “Well, I was here to visit my father’s grave. But on my way out, I happened to notice this one. I…recognized the name.”
“You knew Aelita? Were you co-workers?” asked the man.
Brian shrugged. “Well…I guess you could say that…” He then looked back at the cenotaph. “I found the wording of ‘lost’ instead of ‘died’ to be interesting…”
“Well, we don’t know for sure what really happened. I guess that’s our way of holding onto some hope that our baby is still out there somewhere…” The woman replied, her voice trembling slightly.
“Oh, are you Aelita’s parents? My condolences…” Brian wished he could tell them what he knew, but he doubted that they would believe him, much less that it would provide any solace. “…I should probably leave. I didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy,” He muttered, feeling awkward.
“No, it’s okay, really. Take all the time you need,” River’s father assured.
Brian knelt down to take a closer look at the grave, and spied an ornamental carving of an angel that had escaped his notice before. “I…can’t really say how I know this, but it’s something that I feel in my heart. Z- Sh- …Your child is in heaven now. And misses you very much.”
Doctor White could not help but notice that Brian seemed to be in higher spirits throughout his next therapy session. “I suppose the journalling was quite effective…” she remarked half-jokingly.
Brian chuckled lightly. “I will admit it did help a bit, but what really helped is that I came to a few epiphanies.
“And those were…?”
“Well, I’ve realized that with the type of experience that I had, there’s no real way to prove it to other people. But that’s okay. People don’t need to believe me. And at the end of the day, it doesn’t even matter if the experience was real. What actually matters is the present, and making the most of the life that I have, the life that I am actually living.”
Doctor White gave a surprised nod of approval. “My, Brian, I am quite impressed. That is a very mature outlook on the situation…may I ask how you reached it?”
“‘Meditation and mindfulness’,” Brian replied, half-jokingly.
Doctor White chuckled, before her expression turned slightly more serious. “Well, in other news, I believe I may have figured out a diagnosis for you. As I said before, you are not delusional. However, I’m still not sure how you will take this…”
“It’s okay, I can handle it, just tell me,” Brian reassured, though part of him still felt nervous.
Doctor White sighed, before looking Brian in the eyes. “I believe you may have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD, as the result of your coma and the incident which caused it. The behaviors and symptoms that you have reported and that I have observed are in line with it, including panic attacks and flashbacks.”
Brian silently listened, nodding slowly. It was not as bad as he expected, yet he still didn’t quite know how to feel about it. “…What are my treatment options?”
“Well, medication is an option, but I know you have already expressed aversion to it.” Doctor White leafed through a book, tearing out a slip of paper. “However, there are a variety of alternative treatments available as well. Your insurance seems to cover the costs of a week-long wellness retreat. Perhaps that could be a good place to start.” She signed off on the slip, before handing it to Brian, who smiled slightly.
“Heh…thanks, Doctor White. I’ll see if this helps.”
Doctor White smiled warmly. “Of course, dear.”
Brian then looked down at the signature.
White.