“We’ve been at this for days. Isn’t it shriveling? Just a little? Or looking bored, like it wants to move on?” I ruffled my hair in frustration.

Jones was patient in his replies, as usual.

“Well it takes time. It doesn’t give up that easily.”

I sighed.

Jones sank down on the ottoman across from me.

“I know it’s tough. You’ve been doing a lot these days.”

Irritation creased my brows.

“You don’t have to therapise me. I know when you’re trying to validate my emotions.”

Jones laughed. “I’m serious though, you’ve been working a lot on your mental focus, on being mindful and purposeful. It’s been a lot of dedicated hard work.”

Despite myself, I felt a tingle of achievement. But I continued to stare sulkily at him. “I know what you’re doing. You’re highlighting my efforts, praising me, to keep me motivated. To help me feel empowered and in control. You really shouldn’t try to psychologise me, you know.”

“But that’s what I’m here for. Not psychologizing, per se, but to help you with your mental state, your focus.”

I nodded, begrudgingly.

My own personal psychologist. One who was there for me, 24/7. Honestly, I could see why Dave had progressed so much, under Jones’ care.

Jones, who was Dave’s hallucination. Or so I’d thought. When Dave, an ex-client, had returned to request sessions with me, I had feared that perhaps the therapist he’d been seeing had not been a good match after all. But as it turned out, the therapist that he’d been seeing since he ended sessions with me more than a year ago, was someone only he could see. Yes, he’d hallucinated a therapist, complete with round the clock therapeutic services. And it somehow worked for him. He was in a good place, and had come back to see me only because, according to Jones, there was something hanging around about me. Something that emanated sinister vibes, something that meant me harm.

I was unconvinced, of course. It was an implausible, incredulous story. But then Jones materialized before me. You can read about it here, I won’t go too much into that now.

So anyway, Jones and I had been working on trying to rid myself of the being that was plaguing me. Apparently, it was feeding off me, draining me of my life force, my energy. According to Jones, these beings also tend to implant terrible thoughts in their victims’ minds, thoughts which can lead them to do horrible things.

Jones had tried to “shoo” it out, whatever that entailed, but had apparently been unsuccessful. Now, the next steps were for me to work on reinforcing my mind. According to Jones, that thing can most easily feed on my life force when I’m unfocused, unmotivated, and when my thoughts were scattered. Unfortunately, that was me most of the time. Outside of my therapy sessions, after work hours, my brain usually went into a sluggish, vegetative state. All I could do would be to passively consume TV shows and podcasts. In the past months, I didn’t even have the mental capacity to play video games, an activity I once loved. Being a psychologist can be intensely and extensively draining.

I stood up again, and paced about. “It’s really here, this thing.”

It was Jones’ turn to frown.

“You don’t believe me?”

I shrugged noncommittally. “Well, you’re the only one who can see it. You claim it’s there, and hop on over from Dave to my consciousness. To help me out. And we’ve been working on my thoughts, on my behaviours for hours every day, and it’s all based solely on your word.”

He regarded me seriously. I felt a rumble of guilt, but I had to voice my doubts. My very reasonable doubts, I reminded myself. For all I knew, he could be some demon spawn.

He didn’t respond. In the awkward silence, I spilt out yet more doubts.

“You really helped Dave get to a better head space. You did amazing work with him. But, well, before you…appeared to him, did he have any issues? Was he already in a bad state?”

Sadness tugged at the corners of his lips. He took a breath, as if steadying himself to share something difficult.

“I appeared to him for a reason.”

I watched him intently, silent.

“Some people in your world, they’re more…sensitive. They’re more in tune with other beings, from other worlds. Dave, he’s really sensitive. And his mind happened to be rather attuned to my world. Well, there are things in my world that intend harm to those in your world. For people on your side who happen to be more sensitive, more in tune, these things can affect them. They may not be visible to these people, but they can definitely affect them. And when people are in a bad head space, when their lives are chaotic, they tend to be more vulnerable to these influences.”

He must have noticed my arched eyebrows.

“I know it’s hard to accept. But honestly, haven’t you ever considered the existence of other worlds? Other beings your world isn’t aware of? Like when your clients talked to you about things that they saw, voices that they heard, didn’t you ever wonder if it could be real? If it could be that they’re communicating with things, beings that you didn’t know about?”

“I have considered that,” I admitted. “But that has no science behind it. Not yet at least, and I operate based on science.” I left out the part about how I happened to be a huge conspiracy theorist.

“But I guess, I just had to see for myself.” I gestured vaguely at Jones.

Jones smiled. “Yes, you actually handled my ‘appearance’ better than I expected.”

I gave a wry smile.

“Anyway, so how did you show up in Dave’s life?”

He cleared his throat. “Well, back then, I had seen Dave. I could tell that he was sensitive to our world. And he was in a dark place. There were beings from my side that didn’t help matters. They fed off him. He was lucky, in that these were simple, easily handled types of beings. I fended them off as much as I could, but he was keeping himself open to more that came along. So I…” He paused, looking a little anxious.

“So you…?”

“I made myself visible to him.” I could see the mixed emotions in his eyes, the slight furrow of his brows. I waited quietly for him to continue.

“He freaked out. I could tell he thought he’d finally broke. I feel really bad about his initial mental…meltdown. I mean, tried to be as tactful as possible in approaching him, but I guess people from your side don’t really do well with…seeing us. Well, he got into a load of trouble because of me, and eventually he was asked to see you for therapy. I kept trying and trying to reach out to him, to let him know that I was only there to help. I wanted to help him out of his dark space, I wanted to make up for his mental breakdown. And the rest, well, you know.”

I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, trying to digest the mind-boggling information he’d just shared.

It was a good minute before I could get my mind right.

“Are you saying that mental illnesses are all caused by creatures from other worlds?”

Jones flinched at the word “creatures”.

“We’re not all creatures, and no. Mental illnesses are mental illnesses. Most of your clients have just that – a psychological disorder. It’s not that common to be sensitive to other worlds. It’s not common to have issues like Dave did, like you do. But yes, a small proportion of those who are diagnosed with mental disorders, are, in actual fact, dealing with…otherworldly issues.”

I nodded, relieved that I wouldn’t have to revise all of my clients’ notes. It made sense too, that people with these otherworldly issues would be misdiagnosed with mental illnesses. When Dave came to me, he had already had a diagnosis slapped on him, by his psychiatrist. I had taken a look at his notes, matched it to the diagnostic criteria, and thought no further of the matter.

“Actually, why didn’t you just disappear again? When Dave was freaked out?”

“It doesn’t work like that. Once I made myself visible to him, he was kind of keyed in to my wavelength. Something like that. It’s like…opening a packet of crisps. You can’t unopen it after that. I mean, you could, technically, if you’d a seal or something, but...well okay it was more like if you bit into a cookie, you can’t really unbite it. I mean, unless you haven’t chewed, then technically you could…”

“You mean, once you see it, you can’t unsee it. Like once you know something, you can’t unknow it.”

“Ah, yes, yes, that’s much better. That’s what I meant.”

I nodded, chewing on the inner sides of my cheeks.

“Am I sensitive too?” I asked.

“Well, there’s that thing hanging about you, so that should already tell you something.”

I rubbed my face with my hands.

“Will I be able to see that thing? The…creature? The being? The thing with me?”

Jones shrugged. “Maybe if you got more in tune with it, otherwise, it would really have to decide to show itself to you.”

“Where is it now?” I had a sinking feeling that I knew.

Jones seemed reluctant to tell me. Finally, shifting about uncomfortably, he said, “well...it’s still on your shoulder.”

I gave an involuntary shudder. I was right. I suddenly had the urge to start flicking at my shoulder, whacking it, running about the room swiping at it.

I forced myself to remain still.

“Okay. Great.” I cleared my throat.

“I had guessed so, actually. I’m starting to sense it. This eerie, ominous feeling I get from it, just hovering about. It twists me up inside. I think, maybe, I might already have become more attuned to it. Since you told me about it. So yes. Wonderful news. What do I do now?”

“Well, it’s not one of those simple creatures. This one’s…complex. It seems to be a proper, sentient creature. I can’t really tell what it is - It’s probably not willing to show itself clearly to me. So I’d suggest, for now, to just really keep working on keeping your mind focused and clear. Engage yourself in whatever you do, be focused on just where you’re at, what you’re doing, in the moment. Keep doing that, and it should, hypothetically, help to lessen its ability to affect you.”

“Hypothetically. Great. Okay, so, practice mindfulness. Practice mindfulness to get rid of an otherworldly creature that’s clung onto me. Right.”

“I know, it sounds strange, but it’s really all I can think of that could work right now.”

I just looked at him for a long while. Then I sighed in resignation.

“Whatever works, I guess. It’s not like I have a choice.”

That night, Jones went off to check on Dave. Dave had come in a few days ago, for his follow up session, and he had been more than delighted to realise that I’d seen Jones too. I think deep down, a part of him had harboured lingering doubt about Jones. He’d probably wondered from time to time if other people, people like me, had been right, and that Jones was just a hallucination. The pure relief and joy on his face showed just how much it meant to him that I could see Jones too.

Dave had seemed to be coping well, but it had been quite a while since Jones had left his side, and Jones was anxious to check up on him. He seemed almost like a concerned father figure, though they were probably more like brothers in terms of age. Then again, Jones could be a thousand years old, for all I knew.

Left alone for the first time in a week, I felt a sense of relief and freedom. But at the same time, I couldn’t deny the faint sense of emptiness that crept up on me. I had quickly gotten used to Jones’ company. It was finally sinking in just how good of a person Dave was, to be willing to part with Jones for my sake, after having had Jones with him for such a long time.

I practiced some mindfulness meditation, and tried my best to keep my thoughts centred on my breath, on the here and now. But it was tough, knowing, sensing that somewhere, close by, that thing was there, watching me.

I decided on an early night. After washing up and turning the lights off, I snuggled under the comfort of my covers. I had popped a sleep supplement before bed, so I was hopeful about getting a good night's sleep. I had an early session the next morning. I lay still for a while, but the kink in my neck was bothering me. I flipped over onto my side to ease the tension in my neck.

I was getting drowsy, when I sensed it moving. It settled in front of me. Chest tight, throat constricted, I slowly forced my eyes open. A paralyzing fear enveloped me. I couldn’t scream. All I could do was continue to stare at it, unmoving.

A mess of dark, greyish limbs, tangles of wild, messy hair. A pale, empty face, with waxen skin. Black eyes. Completely black eyes, the whites nowhere to be seen. And a jagged mouth contorted into a crooked smile.

“You wanted to see me?”

P3