The Elixir of Joy

A while back, there was a young man who couldn’t stand his own mind. Every day it would taunt him, jeer at him, make him wish that it were never there. He spoke to his boyfriend and friends about this, and as hard as they tried to help him, nothing seemed to do the trick. He instead punished his body, as he felt it was its fault that his mind had broken, it is part of the body, isn’t it?

He stopped eating. He ate too much. He stopped sleeping. He slept too much. Every home remedy of essential oils, long walks, cups of tea, music, recovery programs, the works. But his mind jeered on, unable to contain itself.

A few years into this torment, the man sat alone at night. It wasn’t cold, it was a comforting coolness that soothed his aching bones. He pulled on his coat, boots and put on his headphones before he left his house, firmly locking the gate behind him. He strode off into the night, alone and slightly more at peace than he had been thirty minutes or so ago.

He took a familiar route, through the woods, past a small broken gate and down through the fields. He sat for a while and watched the waving of the grass, the slumbering sheep and listening to the singing of the birds. I wonder if my parents ever sang to me like that, he thought, miserably. He noticed however, that where he was sitting, there were no birds, no grass and no sheep. The world really is against me, isn’t it?, he thought to himself. But as he stood and turned to leave, he noticed a small mound in the earth where he had been sitting. He couldn’t believe that he didn’t feel it before; it was large, and looked as if someone had hurriedly covered it over after burying something. He decided to dig it up, and if it was dangerous, he’d put it back. So, he began to dig.

It didn’t take long before the dirt underneath his fingernails began to bother him, but luckily it also wasn’t long before something emerged from the earth. It was a bottle. Not alcohol, he was sure once he had smelt it (he had promised his boyfriend that he wasn’t going to drink any more). It seemed to radiate light itself, and smelt of the sweetest of fruits. He poured a little onto the grass and lit it with his stolen lighter just to make sure that it wasn’t flammable. It did not catch fire. He took a mouthful from the bottle.

Immediately, his body seemed to lighten. He felt warmer, uncomfortably warm with his coat on so he removed it. Although it was the evening, everything seemed brighter, and more full of life. He could hear the birds talking to each other, the sheep snoring and he exhaled, a weary, heavy sigh of relief. He finally felt happy.

He took the bottle, and began the walk home. He greeted every neighbour that was outside, stroked every dog and smiled at every child. He whistled to the tune of his music playing through his headphones, and as he entered the house, he fell into a restful sleep immediately on the sofa.

By the following morning, the effects seemed to have vanished. He was numb, heavy and miserable. His boyfriend seemed to be equally miserable as he sat on the sofa opposite, watching him and crying softly.

“What is it? Are you alright, love?” the man asked.

“Yes.. I.. no, not really.”

“What’s going on?”

“I.. don’t know. I just feel.. terrible.” he sobbed.

Slowly, the man sat next to his crying boyfriend and held him as he wept. He hated to see him upset, and after the years of suffering that he had caused, he hated that most of it was probably his fault.

That evening, as his boyfriend was at work, he snuck another drink from the bottle. He felt that same lightness and comfort that he had the evening before. He fell asleep. And in the morning, his boyfriend was similarly miserable. As he held him, weeping, the man thought to himself: it will be easier for me to help him now, as I'm feeling better. And for a while, this seemed to work.

For the next few months, this continued. The man worked out that if he soaked some bandages in the liquid in the bottle, and wrapped it around his arm, he would keep that lightness and happiness for longer. So this is what he began to do. As he got happier, and happier, his boyfriend became more miserable. He would spend days alone in their bedroom, not eating, sleeping all day. The man spent as much time with him as he could, but he was a student, and his grades had finally started to pick up. He felt whole again. Like an entire person. His boyfriend seemed to lose his sense of self. He was fading.

Eventually, it became addictive. The man couldn’t focus without the help of the elixir. His boyfriend didn’t move at all any more. The man had periods where he couldn’t remember where he had been, or what he was doing, or who he was, even. There was silence from the room upstairs.

And eventually, the bottle was empty.

Crazed, sweating, desperate to feel something, the man paced his house, murmuring and ranting to himself. He dropped out of school. He didn’t stay in the house very often, and spent his time digging, digging desperately for another bottle in that patch of the field where he had sat that night. But without any joy.

He returned home, stumbled upstairs and entered the bedroom. He was alone. His boyfriend was no longer in the bed. He was not light, or happy any more. The withdrawal had left him crazed, and more miserable than ever. He went to the bathroom to brush his teeth, he hadn’t in days because he hadn’t returned from the field in days.

His boyfriend’s body was lying in the bathtub. Blood dripped from him, pale, cold, his lips blue. The man fell to his knees and sobbed. Sobbed until he couldn’t breathe. Sobbed until he could move no longer. He lay on that floor for an hour or more until he realised what had happened. That elixir made him happy, but it made his boyfriend miserable. So miserable, so happy, they mixed together in his mind until his boyfriend had no option left but to take his own life. He could no longer cope.

Still crazed, still ranting, he sat up next to him on the floor. He took the piece of glass that was lying next to his boyfriend. He closed the door. The house was silent.

When the two were found, by the man’s sister, she found the bottle. It was full of a golden, soft liquid that seemed to radiate light itself. Melancholic from the loss of her brother, she took a swig. Immediately, she felt light.