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“Really? Not even once?” There’s a hint of scepticism in his voice.
“Well ….” I break off and laugh shrilly. “Okay, if I’m being completely honest, Idostill have cravings, but something stops me from acting on them.”
Nick scratches the side of his mouth. “Tell me your thought processes.” I frown at him, but he continues: “Tell me what prevents you from smoking; what goes through your mind at the point of rejection.”
I think for a second. “It’s kind of weird. When I crave a cigarette, it’s like I can hear your voice in my head, telling me not to. And then I can’t go through with it. It’s like you’re inside of me.”Gosh, that came out wrong.
“I think I know what you mean.” Nicksmiles mysteriously and leans back in his chair. “All right, Carly, close your eyes and take a deep breath. That’s right… empty your mind completely. Relax every part of your body and just focus on my voice.”
I close my eyes and swiftly drift into unconsciousness.Swirling images flitter through my head, fluttering like little pieces of paper, sucking me into a vortex of oblivion. There’s no sense of time or space, just Nick’s sweet, sultry voice, and then I’m flying outside of myself again. Flying over trees and fields and rivers. Flying over cars and houses and steeples. ThenI’m falling into the dark tunnel again.
Down, down, down …
I open my eyes, blink a couple of times. Gradually, the mists of incoherence subside and my surroundings come into focus. I’m lying on an emerald-green hill with the sun blazing down on me. For a long time, I just lie there, relishing the fresh wind on my face, staring up at the clouds and the sky. Presently, I spy a hot air balloon in the distance, its red and yellow fabric shimmering in the sunshine. I narrow my eyes and watch as it floats closer and closer to me.
I get to my feet and pull out a packet of Marlboros. Slowly, I walk up to the balloon and place the cigarettes in the gondola. Through hazy eyes, I watch the balloon rise higher and higher, until it’s just a speck in the distance. I smile and wave goodbye; goodbye to the past, goodbye to my addiction.
A deep sense of peace floods me, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
It’s finally over.
For a moment, I open and close my eyes. Now I’m in a brightly-lit hospital lounge with yellow wallpaper. Ronan and I are sitting in plastic bucket chairs arranged in a semi-circle. We’re watching horse racing on TV with the sound down. Ronan still has a full head of hair and looks exactly the way he did when I first met him.
I turn around. To my right sits a hollow-faced girl with mousey, brown hair and eyes like glazed marbles. Next to her is a withered old man with his head tilted to one side, a thin trail of slobber oozing from his mouth. I have absolutely no idea what’s going on so folding my arms, I turn back to the TV.
Suddenly, the doors fly open and a huge guy dressed in a dirty hospital gown appears. “They’re trying to kill us!” he bellows.
“Who’s trying to kill us?” Ronan frowns.
“Those bastard nurses. They’re poisoning the fucking water.”
Ronan shakes his head. “You’ve been saying that for two months. If they really were poisoning us, how come you’re not dead already?”
“Because they’re doing us one at a time. I’m telling you, these people are brutal. We’re just pawns in their game. They don’t give a shit about us.”
I squeeze Ronan’s knee and whisper, “Please don’t wind him up. You’ll only make it worse.”
“He winds himself up, babe,” Ronan grins. “Honestly, this place is like a cross betweenBig BrotherandOne Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. We’ll all be bonkers by the time we’re out of here.”
The crazy guy gnashes his teeth, spittle trickling from his lips as he starts throwing chairs at the wall. There’s a horrible cracking sound, wood splintering. Two male nurses arrive on the scene and grapple him to the floor, pinning his arms behind his back. His face turns purple and he bucks and screams like a wounded animal.
I shut my eyes and cover my ears to drown out the awful, braying noise.
“Make it stop!” I shout. “Make it stop, make it stop!”
Nick’s voice cuts into the nightmare. “Enough. Now hold for the count of five, four, three, two, one. And now you’re awake.”
Gradually, I settle back into the current moment. My breath comes in short, ragged bursts; my hair is slick with sweat.
“It’s not real,” I murmur. “It’s all in the past … the past.”
“Are you okay? You seem a little disorientated.”
I look up at him, wide-eyed. “I-I’m fine. Wow, that was pretty intense.” I force a smile.
“What happened while you were in trance?” he probes. “What did you see?”
I tell him about the green fields and the hot air balloon, but I refuse point blank to talk about what happened in the hospital lounge.
