"Dreaming for the sake of mental health-iness."

- made by yours truly

AUTHOR’S P.O.V.

The door to that famous room creaked open.  Smell of books, stacked papers, freshly brewed coffee and a tinge of that familiar lemony freshener filled the entrant’s nose.


Dimmed shadows from the white thinned curtains with morning as the source of lighting scattered giving off the usual vibe of a psychologist's office.


A 28-year old Caucasian female went inside after hearing ‘come in’ and was met by a man busily tapping away on the computer’s keyboard.  His face lined by sorrow, deep thinking among many other things had stretched to a welcoming smile.


She did the same gesture to him after the casual hand shaking.


Upon seeing her sitting down comfortably as she could, “So how are you today?”  He went right into the professional tone.


“Really,” she made gestures in the air trying to sculpt out her feelings to him and then breathe out a big one, “great!”


The doctor chuckled a bit and began writing on the paper atop his lap, “Okay as part of the whole process I’d like to ask a few questions with regards to the treatment and your stay here,” he paused to look at her in the eye, “ready?”


She bobbed her head up and down enthusiastically.


“Okay!  First, please feel free to talk about your current feelings after completion of your treatment.”


Seconds after hearing the question, began to move, “Well, I feel light.  I don’t know how to describe it really,” no trace of worries or distraught in her face.  No body language suggesting restrictions or anything to take note of, she sighed, “I just feel nothing can bring me down anymore.  My head does not hurt anymore or that somehow - I am worry-free.” 


Giving a slight nod, he moved on to the next query, “Other than that did you experience anything during the treatment?  Anything at all?”


“Nothing much except that I dreamt a really good one then woke up refreshed and absolutely better,” she proudly bragged to him.


After making scribbling noises on that notepad about his observations he continued, “Any other recollection before and after treatment?”


“None.  Prior to the hypnosis you initiated, I only saw you before and after the treatment doctor Jung,” he nodded to this answer of hers.


“How would you rate the treatment from a scale of 0 to 10 with 0 as being very dissatisfied and 10 as very satisfied?”


“20,” the patient then gave her brightest smile to him.


This is the infamous Doctor Carl Jung, founder of the Jung Institute.  Make no mistake about this place and what he does.  He is a psychoanalyst however the place is not a mental asylum. 


Psychiatric hospitals treat those who have mental disorders.  In this building though, they only accept those who voluntarily admit themselves and are mentally sane. 


Yes, you read that right.  Their patients have to be mentally sane to be here.  Although many have tried to ask those with mental disorders to be accepted yet it is not how this place works.  Even if millions or billions of dollars were given (which did happen). 


It is a research facility for field of psychoanalysis. But why are there patients being treated here?  They term it as ‘treatment’ though all they do is let the patient sleep.  That’s what they had informed the public.  Other than that no one knows how the treatment process is exactly being made except for the use of hypnosis.  No usage of drugs too.  Patients who would come out were immediately tested for any trace of it.  Nothing was seen.  No needle marks or pricks in every part of their bodies could be found only outlined happy faces.  However, the success rate of 100% treatment was too good to be true for experts or other psychoanalysts in the field to believe that it was all due to hypnotism or moreso, sleep.  Spies were being sent to the facility only to return empty handed and even happier.  Documentations made by doctor Jung were searched in every inch of the place but none.



They also have this one simple mission-vision statement embossed in metal letters on the reception's wall: "sleep, dream, be happy".
 

KRYSTAL’S P.O.V.

"Please let my son be admitted to this place!  Please," her vocal cords resonated those words with liquid trickling on its own on her cheeks.  The white gown of a man in his late fifties had been in the old woman’s tight grip.   


This has been the umpteenth time I saw someone begging here.  Even though I had just arrived here moments ago now I am used to it.  Could I tell that old man to let her son replace me here instead?


“Soojung, mianhe for being here only now.  There were a lot of things I had to wrap up first,” that came from behind me.


Without turning around I know the owner of that voice.  Yet I did not bother to budge or make a single word in return.


When his body was now in front of me I made eye contact but I did not care to give my respects to him in this mental institute of his.


He hugged me though.  I believe he knows why I did not even bow or speak to him.  Honestly, he has that irritating ability to be a mind reader like my dad.


“Come!  I will show you to your room,” he offered with a smile as he started pushing the wheelchair.


Why did I not even protest further about coming here?  Oh yeah, they said all I have to do here is sleep most of the time.
 

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I want to sleep, dream and then be cured too -.-  *sigh*

Please inform me of any errors.  Thanks!  Do leave any comment, when I mean any I do mean ANY comment even one worded comments.  lol