Page 28 of His Hell Girl

"Stranger," he smiles, "your problem is not a faulty mind. You cannot tell a dog to run while holding the leash," he responds, again his words haphazardly indirect. "Let go, and everything will go with it," he says, rising up.

"Go to sleep. All of you. Tomorrow we will start." He doesn't even spare us a glance as he leaves the cabin.

"He winked at me." Vanya comes closer to giddily whisper in my ear. I just roll my eyes at her.

But as I'm falling asleep, I can't help but continue contemplating his words, excitement simmering inside of me in spite of the way my logical brain is trying to pull the brakes on this.

The following day, cup in my hand, I seeEl viejolooking at me expectantly so I just chug it. We'd spent the entire day in preparation for this one moment — the consumption of the ayahuasca. El viejo had talked most of the day, trying to push me past my own biases and prejudices and to embrace the unknown.

Unfortunately, his words had gone on blind ears. And as I wait for the brew to take effect, I realize it's not working. Not one hour later, not even five. Not even the following day.

"You're not ready for the ayahuasca, stranger, and she does not deem to help you if you cannot help yourself."

"What do you mean?" I frown.

"Here." He pushes his finger toward my chest. "You're holding so tightly to your control, over your mind, over everything. You need to let it go," he says blankly.

"I can't," I reply honestly. I give up control when I lose my mind in my episodes, I'm not about to let that happen while I'm in control… while I can help it.

"But see, that's just your problem. You hold it all in so, so tightly. Things want to come out, and they do the only way they can. They seek cracks, and when they find them, they ambush them in order to get out. Your episodes are merely representation of that which youdon'twant out," he tells me, his words stunning me.

Because I don't want things to get out.

"How?" The words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself. How could I do this when Iknowthat once I open the gates, Hell will come crashing down.

"Slowly," he grunts, telling me to follow him.

Almost two months later,days filled with hard labor and meditation, andEl viejofinally deems me ready to try ayahuasca again.

For the first time I'd put my own prejudices aside and I'd allowed him to guide me, from telling me what I should gather from the jungle, to building things with my own hands, and finally to blanking my mind and letting myself go—even if just for a minute.

We'd started slow, and he's tried to target the rage I have within me. Breathing exercises on top of daily sessions of meditations seem to have done wonders to my mood, and for the first time I'm optimistic about the future.

Joaquin too, had been quite shocked by the effort I'd put in. He left me here after a couple of days and has only recently returned, curious of my progress.

"You've done a lot in this short time, stranger,"El viejotells me, handing me my cup of freshly brewedayahuasca.

In the time I've been here, I'd also had the opportunity to learn more about the flora and fauna of the region, and especially what makes these plants so sought after.El viejotold me about his ancestors and how they used these plants to communicate with thosebeyond.

While I have not suddenly become a believer, I've certainly started to listen and analyze things fromtheirperspective, figuring culture, geography and topography into how these plants are perceived and why some are even venerated.

I bring the cup to my lips, tasting the bitter liquid and giving a small thanks to mother nature for everything she'd given methese past few weeks. Closing my eyes, I will myself to relax, knowing that this time it will work.

"I am here, stranger. Let ayahuasca guide you on your journey," I hearEl viejo'svoice as the blackness of my closed lids starts shifting into colors and shapes, the entire space shifting with me until I feel myself shrinking down into the size of a particle.

My breath labored, I feel my heart beating strongly in my chest, my veins working hard to pump my blood. It's like every sound is magnified, or maybe in my small stature I'm just closer to these sounds.

I feel… everything. I hear the buzzing of the bees, and crickets, and every other creature crawling on this earth. I open my eyes and I can almost touch the particles of light, so fine and separated in the ether as they greet my being.

Am I or am I not?

I don't even know what I am… or who I am, as I let myself fall and become one with the nature. The entirety of my history falls away as I take in the vastness of the sea, fear entirely absent as I let myself be carried by the waves, not even caring that they may drown my small self.

Water floods my senses, until I'm back on shore again.

I look around and there is not a soul in the vicinity, the expanse of land infinite for what my eyes can take it.

I walk around for what seems like an eternity before I spot something else.

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