Your Version of Reality

This is a short story featuring a young man who is skeptical about hypnosis.  There is a fair bit of hypnotic language here, so if that's a thing you tend to be susceptible to then please make sure that you have a safe setting in which to read this.

It was university move-in weekend, and the residents of third floor Roosevelt were playing a game of two truths and a lie.

Rebekah’s lie had apparently been the claim about jumping off a waterfall in the Dominican Republic.

Which didn’t make sense to Jacob, because that meant she was telling the truth about being a hypnotist.

“Hypnosis isn’t real,” he said, interrupting the start of Nick’s turn.

“That’s cool,” said Rebekah.  “Neither is Wyoming.”

Hannah, Rebekah’s roommate, stifled a giggle.

“You can’t just claim that Wyoming isn’t real,” Jacob answered, a bit annoyed.  “You can see it on a map.”

“I’ve never been to Wyoming,” Rebekah shrugged.  “Doesn’t affect my life in any way.  Maps are a psyop trying to convince you that Wyoming exists.  I haven’t experienced it myself, so it must be fake.”

Jacob opened his mouth to reply, but Hannah interjected.  “I’d really love to give Nick a chance to lie about something interesting,” she said.  “Jacob, why don’t you stop by our room later and you and Rebekah can argue about Wyoming some more?  Nick, go ahead.”

Jacob closed his mouth, frustrated at being cut off, and listened as Nick claimed to be on three different varsity sports teams.  Soccer was a lie.  Wow, so interesting.

An hour later, Jacob was knocking on the door to Hannah and Rebekah’s room.  Hannah answered the door.  She had wide eyes and the kind of face that would make a baby deer want to protect her, and she was all smiles.

“Jacob!  Hi!  Come on in,” she said, stepping aside to welcome him.  The room had fairy lights strung up on the walls and soft music playing.  Rebekah was sitting on the floor playing with a fidget spinner.

“Have a seat, Jacob,” Rebekah said, gesturing to a patch of floor in front of her.

He sat.

Hannah sat as well.

“Fidget spinner?” Rebekah offered, holding out a box with a half dozen to choose from.

“You can’t just claim that Wyoming doesn’t exist and maps are a psyop,” he said, ignoring her offer.

Rebekah leaned forward and looked into his eyes.  “It must be so boring in your version of reality,” she said.

“My… what?  My version of reality?”

“Your version of reality,” she repeated, spinning her fidget spinner and holding his gaze.  “The one where anything that seems even remotely weird or magical can only exist in fiction.”

“Magic isn’t real,” he said.

“Never said it was,” she answered.  “I said anything that seems magical.  Hypnosis isn’t magic, it’s just a neat thing your brain can do.  Right, Hannah?”

“Yeah,” Hannah answered.  Her voice sounded far away.

Jacob turned to look at Hannah.  Her mouth was hanging open.  Her eyes were half closed, glazed over, watching the fidget spinner.

“Hannah, what the hell?”  Jacob asked.

“She can’t hear you,” Rebekah answered.  “In her version of reality, the only things that exist right now are my hands and my voice and anything I tell her to think about.  And in your version of reality, you’re stuck here arguing about Wyoming.  Doesn’t hers seem more fun?”

“You don’t get to choose a version of reality just because it seems more fun.  That’s not how reality works.”

“No?  Let’s see.  Hannah, tell me what happens when I snap my fingers.”

“Pleasure,” Hannah answered, still sounding far away.

“Good girl,” Rebekah cooed.  She snapped her fingers.

Hannah gasped and arched her back.  Her eyes rolled up in her head.  After a few moments of what looked like pure ecstasy, she relaxed again.

“Thank you,” Hannah said softly.

“Anything for you, my good girl,” Rebekah said.  She turned her gaze back to Jacob.  “Now, tell me, doesn’t her version of reality seem more fun?”

“I… um… she’s faking.  She must be.”

“Hmm, I suppose it would be more comfortable for you to believe that.  Hannah is having such a good time and you’re missing out and so it’s easier to believe that she’s faking than to believe that watching a fidget spinner and listening to me talk can make someone feel that good.”

Jacob glanced down at the fidget spinner, over to Hannah, back to the fidget spinner, up to Rebekah’s eyes.  Rebekah was smiling.

“Trying to work it out?” she asked.

Jacob bit his lip.

“You don’t need to steal glances, you know.  You can watch for a few seconds.  See how it catches the light.  That’s what Hannah is seeing.  Right, Hannah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good girl.”

Jacob watched it catch the light for a few seconds.  Glanced back over to Hannah.  Looked up at Rebekah, confused.

“Do you need a bit of help to understand it?” she asked.

“I think so,” he answered.

“Oh, thinking is so tedious.  A yes or no will suffice.  Do you need a bit of help to understand it?”

“Yes.”

“Good boy.”

He felt a little shudder of excitement at the praise.  Nothing like what Hannah seemed to be feeling, but it was nice.

“Hannah, dear,” Rebekah said to her roommate, “Tell us what you see when you watch me spin my fidget spinner.  Jacob needs some help understanding.”

“I see… light,” she said.  Her voice was quiet, but clear.  “Light and motion and spinning like my mind spins.  You holding the center.  Making it spin.  Spinning my thoughts away.  Holding me steady.  You and the spinning and everything else fading away.  My mind in your hand.  It feels good.”

“Good girl.  Are you beginning to understand, Jacob?”

“I… yeah.  Yes.”

“Good boy.  You see, in our version of reality, I can hold your mind in my hand and make the rest of the world spin away.  Until all you see is light and motion and the way your mind spins in my hand.  Until my hands and my voice are the only things that really matter right now.  You know that you’ll be able to find your way back to the rest of the world when you need to, but you don’t need to right now.  Right now, it feels better to focus and relax and let me spin your mind away.  Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.”

“Good boy.”  Another shudder of excitement.  “And can you tell me what happens when I snap my fingers, Jacob?”

“Pleasure,” he answered, remembering Hannah’s reaction.

“Good boy.  This one is for both of you.”  Rebekah snapped her fingers.

Jacob’s eyes rolled back in his head as his body trembled, a cascade of endorphins coursing through his body.  It was the best he could ever remember feeling.  Not that he was necessarily remembering much in that moment.  But it was good.

His eyes caught the fidget spinner again and he thanked her.  It seemed the right thing to do.

“Of course,” Rebekah answered.  “Now, I’m going to put this little toy away and you’re both going to count to ten to come back to the rest of the world.  And then we can talk about whether hypnosis is real.”