In the Mind of the Admirer

Preface

This short story was dedicated to my current state of well-being as an 18-year-old. That’s to say, I’m not much of a writer. The story’s background is about someone who “medically” enters another person’s mind. The reasoning behind this is unknown. There is also a bit of backstory between the two people, one that involves unrequited love. Enjoy.

The Story

I never knew going into one's mind would be so bizarre. I appeared at one side of a corridor. It was a small, pitch-black hallway with no doors except for a red one on the other side, it lit up as if it was being spotlighted. Who knew what could be at the other side of it, angry dwarves who wanted me out of his head, maybe humble hobbits who wanted to greet me. It wasn't a mundane thing to do, going inside someone's head, especially one who admires you. I made it halfway to the corridor, suddenly the pitch-black hallway started to have some colors swirling around. Green, blue, yellow, red, magenta. His favorite color is magenta. All these colors morphed and whirled around the hallway as if there were invisible spotlights shining themselves at an invisible, transforming disco ball. The colors turned more vivid as I approached the hallway. The door was wooden as if it was made from redwood trees.

I turned the brass handle, slowly looking back at the hallway. Swirling colors filled the parts of the corridor nearest to the door like his mind was too distracted at swirling his multi-colored milkshake to drink it. I opened the door. The colors behind me subsided and both the corridor and the room in front of me were dark again. I didn't see anything but a large computer with a big screen, as it was the only thing that illuminated the room. The computer was so large and cartoony, it looked like something from a Jimmy Neutron episode. Standing there was someone with black hair, facing towards the computer screen. I knocked a few times on the door and the figure turned around. He looked like the same young man whose mind I went into. He dressed more tidily, wearing black jeans, a plaid, light blue shirt that's been tucked in, neatly combed dark hair, trimmed face, dark-red basketball shoes, and just like the real counterpart, dark, thick-rimmed glasses.

“Oh...hello there.” He finally said. He didn’t look too happy to see me. “Are you another mirage of her?” I had a feeling her meant me.

“Uh, no?” I had absolutely no idea what to say. I was inside of my friend’s head who avoided me for past few months, talking to a more slick version of him. To be honest, he looked more well-kept in this form. I decided to start off with a question, “Are you-”

“Yes, I am him, now what do you want?” He turned back, leaving my mouth wide open in disbelief. I couldn’t believe his rudeness. His epic sense of style doesn’t even match his inept ability to be polite! Then again, he didn’t look to happy to see me. “Well,” I asked, “Is this how you treat your guests?”

“I see, I see, this might be some kind of test, is it not?” He replied candidly. “What?!” I exclaimed. What the hell was he thinking? “No! I told you. I’m not some kind of hallucination or any of that! I’m the real deal!” He walked over towards me and started examining me. He observed my body, which was a little creepy, and started poking in different places, even in some areas which might end up with me smacking him across the face if the doctors didn’t tell me that everything in the mind was fragile. He finally stopped and looked at my flushed face and chuckled, “You’re quite an amusing mirage, sensitive to different parts of the body.”

“Amusi- H-hey!” I stammered as he turned back to the large computer. I ran in front to intercept him. “I told you, I’m not some kind of imagination, I’m real!” I raged in a rambunctious voice. “What’s it gotta take for you to realize that?!” He regarded the question for a long time until he came up with a solution.

“If you’re undoubtedly real,” He wondered, taking out a coin out of his pocket, “Then I’ll flip this coin three times,” He waved the coin the peak my interest. “if you get the face right three times straight, you’re fake, if you get one wrong, I’ll believe you,” He regarded me with silent solace. “mirages always get it right, regardless.”

“Okay…” I concurred, I didn’t know if it was some kind of trick. Besides, since it was a coin toss, I had a 50/50 chance of getting it wrong. What if I got it right all three times? What would happen then? Before I even got to pick a side, I heard something metal, as if a pin had dropped on a hard, wooden floor. I looked up and I already saw the coin spinning in the air, carefree like children playing around in a forest.

“Tails!” I blurted. The coin landed on his hand and he flipped it once more onto the back of his opposite hand. We looked at it and I grimaced. “Tails.”

"Shall we keep going?" He dared. His dark eyes fuming with amusement as if he had done this a hundred times, deflecting and destroying delusions that looked like me. It looked like had done it so much that it was almost fun to him. "Alrighty then," I replied with enthusiasm. I wasn't about to be discouraged this time. This time, I will get it wrong!

“Heads!”

The coin landed on heads. I didn't know whether or not to consider if he was cheating since his mind was his home turf. Maybe the coin was weighted, maybe he switched coins in mid-air after he heard my call-out. It might be stupid to think about it, but ever since I watched Inception, I never knew what could happen in these types of situations.

“Tails!”

I concentrated on the coin, imagining that it would land on heads. Frankly, I don’t know why I would want to do that, but it’s the only way to get him to believe me. Coin abruptly and briefly spun and twisted in the air like it was being manipulated by an external outside force, and that outside force was probably me.

The coin landed on heads. He looked up and he gazed at me, studying my face, disconcerted by my presence. He stepped up closer to me, his face moving close, so close that it was almost like he wanted to embrace me. His hand went up and caressed my cheek. Honestly, I thought it was a bit romantic, coming from him, but, sadly, I didn’t like him in that way. I had a terrible time rejecting him when he confessed to me, and now here he is, trying to seduce me. He saw the sadness in my eyes and shifted away from me. He turned back towards the large computer and leaned on the railing behind the controls, slouching.

“I never thought I’d meet you again like this,” He sighed, turning back towards me, and his eyes churned into different colors, as if his emotions were constantly in an erratic state of unrest when he looked at me, touched me, or even thought of me. “how ya been?”

"Well, for one, I'm inside your head," I responded thoughtfully. I leaned next to him on the small railing, he shifted a little further from me. "You've got a nice sense of style," I commented.

He looked at his outfit. “Thanks, my emotions picked it out for me.”

I looked at him with bewilderment. “Your...your emotions?”

“Yes, my emotions,” He reiterated, as he pressed a button, and flipped a switch, and gestured over to a large glass box, so large, it looked like it would be able to contain a dozen giraffes. Inside the box, was two figures I could make out, but the glass was fuzzy like mirrors in a sauna.

"Let me adjust the focus," He twisted a lever, which was probably part of a Bob-it, and turned a dial until I was able to see what was happening on the other side of the glass. The first thing I noticed was a large, pink creature. It didn't have any hair and was transparent, and it had white eyes. It reminded me of those RPG slimes that would combine and make a gigantic slime, one with stubby arms, legs, and a chubby figure altogether. The second thing I saw was another young man, waving a green and blue baby rattle at the pink creature. He looked exactly like the one next to me, except he had messy, swept hair, a blue t-shirt with hot-air balloons on it, and green jeans. He also had the same thick-rimmed, dark glasses on his face.

"He's my emotions" he simpered. He stared at him. I turned and looked beyond the glass and I saw his doppelganger smiling, so cheerfully, playing around with the pink, slimy creature. "And I'm his logic." I looked next to me and I saw him grin slightly at his emotional counterpart. His smile subsided as his eyes twisted into a darker hue like he was recalling something he was involved in, something distressing to him. "Poor guy, hurt so much these past 18 years." He pointed out the obvious pink thing, "You probably want to know what that thing is."

“Yeah, well, isn’t it cruel to keep animals locked up in cages? I didn’t think you’d be that kind of guy,” I inquired, looking at a nearby lock. It looked so rusty, I could probably break it with my fist.

“Not this thing, under certain circumstances,” he retaliated, “sometimes this creature should be locked up.”

“I don’t understand,” I was kinda puzzled, “What kind of circumstances?”

“Well, to understand that, you should know what it is first. Follow me.”

He walked towards the other side of the room, beckoning me to follow. This side of the wall was filled with drawers, so many drawers with only one hole in one corner. There was also a small computer panel, which protruded out of the ground. I wondered why there was a single hole in that corner of the wall until he pressed a square on a panel. The drawers began to move like a sliding puzzle. All of them were moving at a fast paced movement, going up, down, left, right, and inward until everything stopped and a light from the ceiling shimmered towards a single drawer. He walked over and pulled the drawer out. Inside was a collection of glass marbles, each row mixed-matched with two colors.

“These things are what grow into that thing,” He said, briefly steering towards the pink animal behind the glass. “These are memories of potential lovers. The silver ones are female, the gold ones are male”

I giggled, “You had male lovers?”

“Shut up.”

"Sorry," I snorted.

“Anyways,” He continued, “One of our silver memories turned into...that thing. It’s affected all of us.”

“Who was the silver marble?” I questioned.

He looked away from me with heartbreak. I shouldn’t have asked that question.

"I-I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, "I didn't- I didn't know-"

“It’s alright,” He reassured me, “It’s not the first time I’ve been rejected.” He stared at me wistfully. His eyes were now pitch-black. “But it was certainly the first time I’ve met someone like you.”

I smiled, elbowing him in the arm, “Thanks.” I figured treating him like a friend might get him to calm him down a bit more. It worked, his eyes glowed a tranquil blue as he smirked. I stared back at the pink creature and asked, “So, why did one of your memory-marble things turn into that?”

“Well,” He started, “You really can’t see anything in my mind. Everything is non-tangible. So what does the brain do to make an outsider understand?” He paused, as if I had some kind of answer to that, which I didn’t. “It makes metaphors.”

“What?” I had a difficult time understanding him.

“Take, for example, the drawer compartments,” He gestured behind him, “They’re basically my memories, but it’s a metaphor for my tidiness.” He motioned over to the large computer, “That is a metaphor for my knowledge about computers.”

"What are you a metaphor of?" "Doesn't matter," He brushed off the question like it was nothing, "And that grand animal is a metaphor, a metaphor," He reiterated, sighing with hesitation, "a metaphor...for my obsession of you." I was shocked and astonished, both at the metaphor and its large size. I was at a loss for words.

“For the past few months,” He continued, “I’ve tried to avoid you, considering that maybe I’d forget about you, maybe I’d stop thinking about you, maybe I’d stop obsessing over you.” He faltered, looking down at his feet, grasping his own arms to keep himself from crying, “I didn’t...It seemed logical at the time....” There was a moment of silence, I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t have anyone talk to me like this ever before. I kept quiet, I might accidentally set him off just from speaking.

“I kept obsessing over you, and that thing keeps getting bigger,” He looked up, staring at the pink, slime thing which was looking too distracted by the emotional counterpart to pay attention to us. “I don’t know how to stop.” He dropped to the ground. I knelt down, but I had no idea what to do. How was I supposed to help someone who doesn’t want you to touch him? I heard someone tapping, as if it was glass, we both looked up and at the far side of the room, behind the glass box, we saw his emotional twin, regarding us with his dark blue eyes of concern, tears were running down his cheeks. He smiled at us, mouthing the words “Don’t give up!”

Suddenly, the logical counterpart next to me stood up, immediately changed his thoughts. His eyes were flaring with the yellow, gleaming radiance of determination! “No.” He quavered, “I shouldn’t stoop this low, I’m not like my emotions.” He patted his foot on the ground, and from the middle of the room, protruded a large panel, larger than the one controlling the drawers. Holograms jutted out of the panel as patterns of ones and zeroes came together to form images of computer file icons and characters. I examined each file closer, finally realizing what these were.

“They’re all plans…” I guessed, “Plans to forget me…”

"Yes," He replied, "I've learned that thinking about you in that way is very unhealthy for my well-being, so I devised plans, experiments, methods, procedures to try to forget your very existence." The whole idea behind these files was ludicrous! Certainly, there should have been better ways to handle this!

"Unfortunately," He continued on, "None of these plans worked...not even this one." He tapped on a green hologram file and requested it to end. I was sure that it was the file that plans to avoid me. He scrolled down the list of files. There were countless as he continued to scroll down, but there was a single question in my mind.

“Why do you have to forget me?” I snapped. My question apparently boomed and reverberated throughout the room, startling everyone. He leaned on the panel after the echoing diminished. Not even daring to look at me, he replied, “To be honest, I’ve forgotten. I started to spend time with you after you asked me to be in your Dungeons and Dragons group. I was so excited about it. My feelings about our friendship, about you, grew even more. I made the mistake of falling for you, as if I had any control of it in the first place.” He faced towards me once more, dark colors swirled and churned like he regretted every single second of his existence. An awkward silence filled the room. I began to ponder if there was more to his feelings towards me than just some kind of petty crush. The more I looked at his face, the more I considered.

Before I even got to ask, I heard a shrilling wail behind me. We turned and we saw the giant creature pounding the glass ferociously. It had piercing red eyes concentrated on me. For a large, cherubic looking creature like that, it sure knows how to be scary! I noticed something behind it. A figure lying on the ground, its whole body drenched with blood, and in its hand was a green and blue, and of course, blood red baby rattle.

The logical counterpart immediately responded by moving in between the creature and me, trying to protect me. The creature continued to thrash on the glass until it cracked, the rusty lock struggling to sustain its hold. He pulled on my arm, leading me towards the redwood door. “You need to get out of here!” He yelled, uttering a curse.

But some reason, the door seemed further than it used to be, about as long as a basketball court. We ran as fast as we could, but the creature had already broken the rusty lock and was hot on our trail. We got to the door, and he pushed me through. As I fell on the color-shifting marble. I turned to see that he too was on the floor with the pink creature so close to him. It had already seized his left leg. "Grab my hand!" I cried out, extending my arm. He reached out and swatted it away, as he let the creature drag him closer to it. "Megan," he breathed gently, smiling, with bright colors from his eyes changing eccentrically, "I regretted not taking you to prom."

Those were the last words I heard him say before the door shut. And now, there was just silence.