Satyrinoch

I

On a brisk Monday morning in the middle of February, Ms. Ramos arrives at her new job at Haven Health Center, the local MHMR clinic in Oakphur Texas. Yesenia is a young Hispanic girl excited to get her professional career started. After graduating with her bachelors nine months ago, it has been unfortunate for her to find a job related to what she studied. Most of her friends were able to land comfortable positions fairly quickly after graduation. There were times were she felt a bit embarrassed and even regretted getting into debt with the degree she obtained. Through perseverance, patience, and countless job interviews, she was finally able to land a job being a service coordinator on the mental health side of the MHMR. Although she was not quite sure what all a service coordinator did, she was excited to start working in the field of social services and build up some experience. The job description made the work seem like it was simple enough for her to do and this is what she wanted to do- to work in a place where she could help people and feel useful to her community.

The first days are always stressful in a new job, during her orientation she learned a lot of what was at stake. She was responsible for a thirty-six-person caseload with more expected to be added once she learned all the policies and procedures. This caseload consisted of people needing mental health services and assistance. Yesenia’s job is linking those people to those services whether it is setting up appointments with counselors, psychiatrists, medical doctors, pharmacists for prescription refills, and being on-call for crisis. Over the first few months the more she has learned and has tried to do her job well, the more she has realized this is something that she might not do for a long time. The job is not physically demanding but it is mentally taxing on her and she is constantly fatigued. She is also afraid of how she will pull through for at least three years like she originally planned to make her resume stand out more for future employers. Although the work has not been what she expected it to be, it does come with quite some perks. Her schedule is flexible enough that as long as she works forty hours per week, she can take the rest of the time off. Even crisis calls count towards her forty hours so there have been weeks where she has not worked a Friday and has had a relaxing three-day weekend back-to-back. Her co-workers have helped her a lot and have assisted her in maintaining her sanity through this probationary period of her job. She has gone on crisis calls with all of her coworkers through their rotation and has not thought ill of any of them.

Everyone has their way of handling their work. She has noticed Robert and Gloria have built a good rapport with the local police department over the years. So handling crisis calls seems to be easier with them since some police officers are more chatty and cooperative during these situations. Donna, Cindy, and Marybeth have worked here the longest so their sessions with clients seem more like “good’ole" friends chatting and catching up instead of a professional relationship between social worker and client. Yesenia is trying to learn a little from everyone, her clients are slowly opening up to her and that makes her job slightly easier. She feels lost and questions what she wants to do most days, but overall she is determined to make the most out of this opportunity.

One particular thing however that has baffled her in these first six months that she has been working here. She has started to notice patterns in some of her clients. About a third of her caseload has consistently been in crises where they have shown severe suicidal ideations. They get hospitalized for about three to six days, and come back like nothing happened. Then about ten to twenty days pass before they feel suicidal again and either attempt or call the crisis hotline before they attempt. None have been successful attempts, but all seem to follow a similar pattern. Visions of a horned beast peering through their windows late at night, whispers around their homes, dreams of a slender man adorning a goat’s head.

II

“I don’t want to live anymore, the symptoms are getting worse. I-I don’t see the point of it, I just…there’s just no hope.”

“Hmmmm,” remarks Elizabeth while writing down as much information as she can on the assessment package. “And your last psychiatric appointment was?“

“July the fifteenth,” said the patient looking up at the monitor they were hooked up to.

“And what psychiatrist do you see again?”

“Umm, it's Dr. Mahesh.”

“Has he changed the dosages?” Added Yesenia standing next to Elizabeth. “I know that was something we discussed in our last meeting.”

“Only one, he said he wanted to see how I would do with the Zoloft first before we moved to the others.”

Elizabeth continues writing, filling out everything she needs to fill out in the assessment package.

“Will I be sent to Cornerstones?” Asks the patient after a few minutes of silence.

“I don’t know Mr. Jeffries-ok! I am done. So my treatment recommendations are hospitalization for four days with a follow-up appointment with your counselor the following week. You can coordinate that with Yesenia-“

“I don’t want to go to Cornerstones,” interrupted Mr. Jeffries.

“You’ll go to whichever hospital has a bed,” responded Elizabeth.

“I rather much go to Oceans or Covenant.”

“Whichever one has a bed Mr. Jeffries, and besides the last time you were at Oceans they warned you. They are tired of you always fighting with the others during group therapy.”

“It wasn’t my fault! Ok, that one time-“

“It doesn’t matter Mr. Jeffries, Oceans will probably not accept you at first this time around. Your sporadic behavior has begun to worry staff in some of these hospitals. You have shown a decrease in progress, and your alcohol intake has increased significantly over the past three months.”

“And you have missed the last two meetings we had scheduled,” asserted Yesenia.

“I told y’all over the phone that my truck has been in the shop and my uncle only takes me to and from work, I don’t know how else to get to Haven.”

“I have given you plenty of bus vouchers to use when your uncle can’t bring you,” said Yesenia.

“Anyway,” interjected Elizabeth. “I am going to call and see if some of these hospitals have any beds available, the PD will be transporting you ok.”

“I don’t like Officer Rodriguez,” stated Mr. Jeffries.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but he’s the crisis officer on duty tonight,” said Elizabeth standing up from her chair and walking outside to the hallway. 

There was a brief silence in the ER room, Yesenia pulls out her phone and sees that it is already a quarter past one in the morning. “I’ve been having more of those nightmares,” said Mr. Jeffries. “You know, the ones I told you about.”

“Yes, I remember,” said Yesenia putting her phone in her pocket.

“They don’t feel like dreams honestly, and I didn’t say this to her while she was asking me the assessment questions. But…I didn’t want to be alone tonight.”

Yesenia looks down on her feet and nods her head sympathizing with the patient. 

“This is a very stressful time, paranoia and psychosis can lead to irrational behaviors-“

“I know when-,” interrupted Mr. Jeffries. “I-I know the difference, it’s just hard to explain.”

“Have you continued to work on challenging your negative core beliefs like your counselor taught you?”

“None of that works when you see shadows and hear noises.”

“And that is why it is imperative for you to always communicate with the psychiatrist so they can get the right dosages for your medication,” responded Yesenia.

“Medication won’t do any good, I trust my gut on this. It's not my brain, I just know it.” The look of frustration on his face does little help to garner validation from Yesenia. Delusion and psychotic episodes are frequent with Yesenia’s clients, she has seen and heard enough from a lot on her caseload. She wagers that she will be having a similar conversation in the same setting with Mr. Jeffries in about two months.

There is a knock on the door and Elizabeth enters with a nurse behind her.

“Ok, so they have a bed available at Covenant I faxed over the paperwork to them so all you would have to do is give them this sheet.”

“Ok,” responded Mr. Jeffries grabbing a form from Elizabeth while the nurse checks vitals.

“How long will I stay?”

“Dr. Feola recommended five days. However, the staff manager at Covenant said that they will discharge you if there is disorderly conduct. Please, Mr. Jeffries, you must follow their rules. It is the best way they can help you. And expect to see Dr. Mahesh within the next seventy-two hours, they will schedule that appointment and let him know your situation first thing in the morning.”

Mr. Jeffries is given all the information that needs to be given, he signs all of the treatment and consent forms that must be signed before he gets transported to Covenant Psychiatric Hospital. Many nights follow the same routine, the service coordinators drive back to the Haven office, write their brief notes, and head home unless more crisis calls come in. “No noises today,” commented Elizabeth as she was locking up the Haven office after the two had returned from the ER. “Thank goodness, ever since Robert told me what he experienced, I never want to be alone here at night.”

“Just give it time, one day you’ll experience some crazy stuff,” comments Elizabeth while both ladies walk to their vehicles. 

“Hell no!” responded Yesenia. “Some of the things that y'all have told me is straight up cucuy shit, nope! I don’t want that juju Liz. I’ve seen a lot of those ghost hunter documentaries, these old clinic-type buildings always have the creepiest things going on.”

“It's what gives Haven its charm,” chuckled Elizabeth. “I remember years ago telling Stephanie we should hire one of those paranormal investigator teams to come and see what they find.” 

“We definitely need to!”

“Well try to get some sleep, keep your phone on just in case.”

“I know, see you in the morning!”

III

After a night of being on-call, dealing with Mr. Jeffries, and getting home around two-fifteen in the morning. The last thing Yesenia wants walking into Haven three minutes before eight AM is a new client folder on her desk. “Are you kidding me,” sighed Yesenia in discontent. She follows standard procedure and goes over client information, client intake forms, psychological assessments, and final diagnosis by either Dr. Feola or Dr. Melendez. Another schizoaffective patient thought Yesenia. Ughh typical- she sees common symptoms that she is all too familiar with; trouble making meaningful relationships, delusions, hallucinations, mania, yada yada yada. They’re all the same, I’ll have to call this-Melissa Grey and set up an appointment. 

Yesenia calls Mrs. Grey to introduce herself as her new service coordinator. She sets up a time to do an initial meeting at the office. Mrs. Grey is very polite over the phone and expresses looking forward to meeting Yesenia. On the day of the appointment, Mrs. Grey arrives early and both ladies commence with their pleasantries. After introductions Yesenia shows the way to her office, Mrs. Grey is older than Yesenia. She seems to be early forties. She is a housewife, her husband works as a project manager at a construction company, and she takes care of their two daughters. A formal woman, educated, and well spoken…she hides it pretty well, thought Yesenia. 

“You must forgive me, Ms. Ramos,” said Mrs. Grey. “I’ve never been in any situation like this before, it is quite embarrassing actually.”

“I understand,” responded Yesenia. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, taking charge of one’s life and trying to better themselves by seeking help is courageous. Our mental health is just as important as our physical health.”

“Yes, that is what some of my friends have said, this was my husband’s idea you see. I’ve never seen a therapist or mental health professional in my life, I never felt the need to see one, but it was either start with this or get hospitalized for a week.”

“Hospitalized for a week?”

“Yes, Aaron didn’t want that, he thought it would do me and the girls more harm as he tells me I’m not crazy. But he wants me to at least try and see if I can talk to someone to see what is going on.”

“O ok, and ugh wh-what are the presenting problems that brought you to Haven in the first place?” Asked Yesenia.

Mrs. Grey smiles and chuckles, “Well you see, I fired my husband’s handgun outside of our house while I was yelling at the top of my lungs.” 

Yesenia’s eyes widen trying to hide her expressions of what she just heard, “I see.” 

“I was trying to scare away the shadows, you know- to leave my family alone. That is what got the cops called on me, luckily nobody got hurt, the house in front of us is empty and I only fired shots in the air in our backyard.”

“Ok,” responds Yesenia writing down her notes listening to Mrs. Grey.

“Aaron is friends with a few of the cops in town so they were lenient in how they talked to me and handled the situation. But after I explained to them what I had been seeing for the past three months, and why I ran outside shooting the pistol. They concluded that I was having a psychotic episode, so they told me and Aaron either I get hospitalized or make an appointment with the MHMR and no charges will be pressed.”

“And Aaron is-“

“He’s my husband,” responded Mrs. Grey. “He’s the one that looked into Haven for me, I just set up the appointment with ughh, Feola is her name I believe.”

“Yes, that’s correct. And this is your first time having psychosis?”

“I-well-yes and no, I didn’t have psychosis,” chuckled Mrs. Grey. “I’ve never had a mental illness, who knows maybe I am starting now haha! But no it wasn’t psychosis, I know what I saw, what I was hearing. My husband and daughters would hear it too now and then but they chalked it up to stray cats or some stray dogs running around or something.”

“I see,” responds Yesenia fidgeting with her pen and leaning back on her office chair. “Well Mrs. Grey even if you feel like you don’t have a severe mental illness we still offer peer support groups and we can refer you to some LPCs that we employ for you to pick and see which therapist could be a good fit.”

“Yes I was reading some of the information packets I got when I had my intake appointment, I wouldn’t mind talking to someone about what I have experienced for sure. But I can assure you, that diagnosis that I got,” Mrs. Grey waved her finger in the air.” I searched it up on the computer, that does not sound anything like me.” 

“Sometimes diagnoses are just for insurance purposes, we shouldn’t let them define us,” said Yesenia trying to reassure Mrs. Grey that she was here to help, not judge whether she fit some criteria for a mental health disorder. 

“I know, but do you want to know the shocking part of all of this?”

“Ughh, sure wh-what do you mean,” answered Yesenia acquiescently.

“The cops didn’t even want to see the proof that I have.”

“Proof?”

“Yes! Shadows, hooded figures, like ghosts, they have shown up and disappeared. I have spent many sleepless nights waiting with my phone camera ready to capture what it is that is stalking my home, and I saved a few things,” said Mrs. Grey smugly. Her confidence attracts Yesenia, I kinda want to see what she’s talking about.

“Like photos and videos of what you saw?” Yesenia slowly sits upright in her chair.

“Yes! Nobody believes me, well obviously my husband and the kids do but to an extent. They think it is just the lighting in some of these photos and think it's just some large dog in one of the videos.”

“C-can I see?” Asked Yesenia reluctantly.

“Of course, I have it saved on my phone right here,” Mrs. Grey pulls out her smartphone from her purse and shows Yesenia a folder that has files saved from various dates within the last three months. The first photo shows the date and time when it was taken, 12:34 am. Yesenia can tell it is the backyard of someone's home, the picture is grainy as Yesenia can deduce that the window pane is the cause of the poor resolution. Mrs. Grey points out a grill and the layout of their patio. In the distance close to the fence of the home, Yesenia can see an oddly dark spot in contrast with the rest of the background.

“What do you see?” Asks Mrs. Grey.

“Umm, nothing really.”

“Look right here!” Points Mrs. Grey to that darker spot in contrast with the wooden fence.

“A shadow I guess.”

“Yes! Now look at this one.” Mrs. Grey clicks on a different photo, same date but the time read 12:36 am. “This is a better resolution, look.” Mrs. Grey shows her phone closer to Yesenia’s face. This time Yesenia can make out a clear humanoid shape of a head with broad shoulders. The dark outline of a silhouette looks more like a shadow than an actual physical form. Yesenia can not see any distinct arms or legs, almost like the shadow was wearing a long cape.

“Oh,” responds Yesenia.

“I have more!”

Photo after photo, whether back yard or front lawn, Mrs. Grey can point out the dark shapes she has seen. One, two, three, sometimes even up to four silhouettes can be seen around the home, Yesenia notices before it is pointed out to her that all of these occurrences are happening around 12:34 am.

“Outdoor lights on or off, it doesn’t matter. I have seen them faint as they are, they are there.”

Yesenia at first thinks that Mrs. Grey’s brain, and now even her own, are creating images out of faux patterns and lighting around the home at night.

“Usually our minds create images out of nothing, especially when we are looking into very dark spaces.”

“Oh I know,” said Mrs. Grey reassuring of herself. “This is not my mind playing tricks on me, here listen?”

A video file starts playing that Mrs. Grey recorded while slowly walking to the front door of her home. Mrs. Grey motions the ‘shhh’ with her puckered lips and finger while moving the phone closer to Yesenia’s ear.

Yesenia’s eyes widen…whispers, faint whispers like someone is on the other side of the door. The video continues where Mrs. Grey uses the camera to slowly move the blinds on the window facing the front lawn to try and see what could be out there. Street lamps shine, and there are light grey dots from the reflection of insects floating around the black canvas of the night. But nobody was on the other side of the front door, the camera then pans back to the front door where the faint noise continues.

“Open the door”

Yesenia flinches and startles in her chair, Mrs. Grey pauses the video before it ends with the camera being dropped. Mrs. Grey nods her head “I had the same reaction.”

A raspy voice had articulated those words from the other side of the Grey’s front door.

“I remember I did not sleep that night…in fact,” Mrs. Grey sits back down. “I haven’t been sleeping well for many nights. I’ve been having a lot of nightmares. Aaron says I’m not restless at night but I am waking up frequently. I can hardly remember what my dreams are about, but I know they’re not pleasant.”

 “I see,” responds Yesenia. “And is this going on every night, or?”

“Not the nightmares, no, and the last time I heard any whispering like that was two weeks ago, the night that I went outside with Aaron’s gun. Since then I have not heard or seen any of those shadows, so I had concluded that perhaps it was probably some stupid teenagers running around trying to scare people. But! Two days ago, I heard some rustling again and figured I’d go and see what it was, just like all the other nights prior. This time I made sure to wake Aaron up because before he did not hear what I would hear and thought that I just couldn’t fall asleep or my mind was playing tricks on me. This time, however, well I want you to see this,” Mrs. Grey clicked on another video file, stood up, and gave the phone to Yesenia.

Yesenia sees both Mrs. Grey and her husband turn the camera from their faces to their living room, the camera pans to the kitchen and the couple walk towards the back door of the house. The couple slowly approaches the back windows when Yesenia notices the camera resolution turn static, it buffers and starts lagging. “Mmmm darn wifi,” says Yesenia.

“Oh no dear,” responds Mrs. Grey. “It is not the wifi nor the cellphone connection, the video did exactly that the closer we got to the window. You can even hear Aaron comment on it.”

At that moment Yesenia does hear the husband mention the visual quality dropping down as the couple tries to get a clear shot. Yesenia can not see anything but the audio is clear even though the couple is whispering to each other. A few seconds pass when Yesenia hears both Mr. and Mrs. Grey say “What was it?! The hell was that!” Yesenia can not see anything through the lagging and static video, after a few seconds of the couple freaking out over something that they saw, the video then ends.

Yesenia returns the phone without saying anything. “It leaped the fence with ease, my husband says it was some dog, but it was larger than a dog.”

“There was something there?” 

“Yes! But it didn’t look like a dog.” 

“And ugh what was it then?”

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Grey shakes her head while putting her phone in her purse. “It was slender, tall, and it looked like it had hairy legs, but they were no dog legs I’m certain of that. Our power was out for a few minutes as my husband tried to turn on the patio light, but none of our lights in the kitchen were turning on. My phone went from eighty percent power to twenty percent within that short time I filmed. My husband is convinced it was a dog and that's that, he doesn’t want to talk about it…but he did agree to buy cameras for the house.”

Yesenia did not know if to believe Mrs. Grey or not. She seemed convinced of what she had experienced, she did agree to see a therapist however as she thinks having someone to analyze this might help her. Also, seeing a therapist might help with the nightmares as well. After Mrs. Grey left the office, Yesenia continued to see other clients she had scheduled for the day, although the rest of the day had been uneventful. Yesenia has kept in mind the photos and videos she was shown. This is all too common, she thinks. Nightmares, whispering…she’s not the first.

IV

“The police officer that made the call said it was a 297.”

“My first one ever,” said Yesenia staring out the passenger window of the white, company sedan, fixated on the moving clouds covering the moon and the stars.

“2109 Barrett Street… that's Henderson’s address no?”

“Yea,” answered Yesenia softly.

“Xavier was one of those always in and out of the hospital huh?” Asked Gloria rapping her fingernails on the steering wheel of the vehicle.

“He was, I always felt it was only a matter of time.”

“I wonder if he ever followed his safety plan.”

“I mean obviously not.”

“Well obviously not this time,” Gloria pauses while checking both ways of a two-way stop. “What I’m saying is, he was constantly in distress. I mean I remember his family, I responded to a few crisis calls, and the mom and dad always seemed like they were disappointed.”

“It's sad,” Yesenia said monotonously. “I noticed that too, but… he didn’t have anyone else.”

The night is still, the branches of trees do not sway. Most homes do not have their porch lights on. The roads are empty with a few vehicles parked by the curbs, the bright street lamps sweep across Yesenia’s face while both ladies sit in silence. The turn signal click snaps Yesenia off of a trance unaware they are turning on Barrett. In the distance, the bright, flickering red and blue lights were the only signs of life in the dark neighborhood. 

“Try not to let it affect you,” said Gloria while parking the sedan a distance from the ambulance and police cars.

“I know,” responded Yesenia. “It is weird though, I mean just two weeks ago I saw him from his last hospital visit, and he looked well.”

Both ladies walk towards the Henderson residence, Yesenia notices a neighbor peering through their glass entry door trying to see what is going on. A few dogs can be heard barking in the distance, Yesenia notices the parents of Xavier right outside on the driveway talking to one of the police officers. Officer Rodriguez quickly greets both ladies when he notices them walking to the scene. The ambiance is fairly cheerful as some officers are talking about game scores or listening to their radios. Yesenia feels a bit of disgust, she has contemplated whether the social services are for her. She knows she does not lack empathetic skills but her apathy has grown. Over the past few weeks, she has felt flat, empty even. She has not cared that one-third of her caseload is having consistent mental crises. It has become a norm to her and one way to cope with it all is to write it off mentally as those who do not want to help themselves are completely lost. As long as all the paperwork is in order and the checks keep coming in, it is just a job at the end of the day, she thinks. She has noticed among her peers that they too think the same way. It is the only way to keep one's sanity in this field after all I guess.

The night continues as the only way Yesenia knows when responding to these types of crisis calls; interviewing to see if anyone needs space to process, assisting the grieving family members, and letting those involved in the crisis know about the help available through Haven. The only difference about this call opposed to the others is wondering if she did enough, her job, her meetings with Xavier, and the talks while at the ER. Did I miss something, did I ignore a plea…we all do our job, and we all document what is said. The safety plans, the treatment goals, the medication, all of the appointments, is it possible that none of it matters when one decides to end it all by their hands?

Amidst all the grief, the parents show gratitude towards Yesenia saying how much they appreciate all her help and that they know everyone did the best that they could. They believe Xavier’s condition got to a point of no return as the intensity left the family baffled by what all he was fighting mentally. Yesenia is shown what the family is talking about by being escorted to the boy's room. Among the crimson splatter on the walls, and all over his room, the melancholy had turned demonic. Writings with black sharpie traced the beige walls; Satyrinoch, Satyrinoch, Satyrinoch…illegible as may be. The penmanship was frantic, the family explained that his room was not like this the day prior, and he had written these messages before perishing:

A beast a beast not of this plane, 

a dimension far beyond. 

He feeds while I sleep, 

he creeps and speaks to keep me insane. 

The only escape I have is to not give him my brain.

Yesenia sees the same stanza along with ‘Satyrinoch’ in every corner Xavier could reach. The parents question what influences he was around that they were not aware of and what power they have that would drive a young man to take his own life. Yesenia ponders and questions if anyone has the power at all to stop or force the ideations that drive some of her clients to these depths. The stanza is peculiar and familiar with all that Xavier would bring to the meetings. “Nightmares,” he would say. “Outside it whispers,” all too common among many. The same diagnosis, the same symptoms, the same medications, the same therapists, and the same psychiatrists. Funny, Yesenia thinks. I wonder what the others would write. 

Over time she continues to see her clients regularly, and the same ones keep getting sent for hospitalizations. The same words and the same conversations keep being said. She sees that there is no progress, the insane are insane and there is nothing that they change, nor will it change. 

Maybe some change is what I need.

V

The knock on the door excites Yesenia, she turns the knob of the stove to low and quickly brushes her hair with her fingers walking to let her guest inside.

“Hey babe!”

“Heya sweetie,” responds Joshua- Yesenia’s boyfriend. “So you were right that stray was pregnant.”

“I knew it! Wait where did you see the baby kittens?!”

“While I was parking,” Joshua points to his vehicle parked beside one of the apartment complex dumpsters. “It jumped out of the dumpster and I saw three kittens following it.”

“That makes me happy,” said Yesenia. “I was worried that it got killed or something after it disappeared. But come in! Food is almost ready.”

Yesenia met Joshua at her work after seeing him come every Friday to the bank to deposit his checks. All of the other bank tellers would jest and make lewd remarks about how cute of a couple they would be. After building some courage Yesenia started to slowly flirt with Joshua and quickly learned that he too was single. After two years of dating, the two have built a solid foundation of trust and companionship. Joshua likes to come over to Yesenia’s apartment and eat, watch movies, and play video games and board games. They enjoy it better here at Yesenia’s since Joshua’s roommate can be intrusive and constantly wants to be in the conversation when Yesenia visits.

“Mmmm I don’t want to go,” proclaims Joshua standing up and stretching his arms wide while checking his phone for the time, a quarter till midnight. The four hours that the couple usually spends in the evenings always go by fast.

“I know babe I don’t either,” said Yesenia grabbing his sides and squeezing before fully wrapping her arms around his waist.

“I mean, I can stay the night you know.”

“Hmmm,” Yesenia moans. “But we agreed we should wait,” Yesenia slowly whispers barely caressing Joshua’s neck with her lips.

“Don’t play with me like-,” Joshua motions his head letting it fall backward while rolling his eyes behind his eyelids as Yesenia nibbles his ear gently.

“We need to get some rest baby boy,” says Yesenia gently moving one of her hands to Joshua’s chest slightly tugging above his shirt where his nipple is located while also playfully tugging on his belt buckle.

Joshua is never good with words during moments of intimacy but he reaches back slightly caressing Yesenia’s waist line moving his hand down between her legs. Yesenia flinches and quickly grabs Joshua’s wrist guiding his hand where she likes to be touched. After minutes of foreplay Yesenia pushes herself away from Joshua, “Patience remember, we need to wait.”

Joshua nods reluctantly and kisses his girlfriend on the forehead, he grabs his belongings and makes his way to the door.

“I’m going to go warm up the vehicle first.”

Yesenia takes the plates back to the sink and tidies up the coffee table in the living room. After a few minutes, Joshua returns and takes a brief pause outside the door before entering the apartment. “One of your neighbors I guess is ugh-“ Yesenia looks at Joshua’s skeptical expression looking back at the closed apartment door. “One of my neighbors what?” asks Yesenia. 

“Nu-nuthin,” Joshua shakes his head. “Just saw someone standing by the playground all ominous-like.”

“Hmmm, maybe someone from the apartments drinking or something.”

“Yeah,” Joshua nods his head in agreement. “You’re probably right, anyway I’ll let it warm up for a bit then I’ll head out.”

After a few minutes of waiting and chatting, Joshua and Yesenia say goodbye to each other. Yesenia notices Joshua sauntering down the metal-grated steps from her second-story apartment and peering over towards the playground located in the center of the complex. Yesenia too looks over where Joshua is gazing and does not see anything at first. Joshua continues to saunter over to his vehicle, waves goodbye before getting in, and finally drives away. Before Yesenia returns indoors she continues to glance wondering if what Joshua was seeing were the local stray cats or perhaps even a mutt. To her surprise, her eyes glare at a silhouette in the distance shaded darker than the rest of the surroundings. The night lamps around the complex make it easier for Yesenia to distinguish the figure as humanoid but with no visible arms or legs indicating long baggy clothes. Unfazed, she goes inside, prepares her clothing for tomorrow, and gets ready for bed. 

“Hey babe, I’m going to have to cancel for today.”

“No yeah I’m fine, It's just been a rough week for some reason."

Over the past eight days since the couple has last seen each other. Yesenia has noticed some slight changes, her neighbor has been coming in later than usual and the neighbor seems to be talking on the phone more often. Yesenia’s neighbor since she moved to the WestBend Apartments has always been a shy, reserved, girl who works in one of the clothing stores in Oakphur. Always has worked the morning shift, comes home, and minds her own business. Yesenia had never noticed the young girl be out late at night very often or talk in a way where the muffle of a conversation could be heard through the walls. But over the past week, Yesenia can hear the footsteps coming up the metal-grated steps. She can hear the soft muffle of a voice from the other apartment. Every night around 12:34 am for the full week, the voice comes and goes, but the steps are only heard coming up, they are never heard going down. They are lumbered like restless feet dragging after a full day of standing. Joshua remarks on Yesenia's fatigue but they both continue to spend quality time as the days go by.  

“Ughhh,” Yesenia groans. “It is going to be one of those days.” She forces herself to sit upright on the edge of her bed unmotivated and restless for last night was a disastrous night. She tossed and turned in her bed constantly, waking up every twenty minutes. She did not dream nor was able to find a cool spot in her bed for comfort. Another restless night, the third one in the recent twelve days. She makes her coffee and forces her way to work. After her shift at the bank, she cancels her plans with Joshua again and heads straight to bed. Her legs are weakened and sore by sleep deprivation, she hopes to finally get enough rest.

After a four-hour nap, Yesenia wakes up sweaty with red marks on her face caused by her arms, drool everywhere, and her hair sticking to her skin. She quickly grabs her phone and calls her boyfriend hyperventilating while staring at the edge of her room. 

“It had a long muzzle with a cone beard under the chin... and floppy ears. It was terrifying babe!” Yesenia explains to her boyfriend a nightmare she just had. “It looked all frail and slender with long arms and had horns that arched backward like a goat’s.”

Joshua reassures his girlfriend that it was all a dream and that sleep paralysis happens most often when people are very stressed.

“That’s the thing though,” counteracts Yesenia. “I don’t feel particularly stressed more so tired. This is also the first time I’ve experienced sleep paralysis. I-It felt so real.”

Joshua agrees to come over and comfort his girlfriend. His presence alleviates all fear Yesenia had before and for a short while she enjoys the company and movies that they watch. The constant heartbeat and respiring of Joshua’s chest work as a metronome for Yesenia’s thoughts. The thoughts that linger in her head about what she saw during her nap. She can not help but also think back to when she would hear others give similar accounts of night terrors caused by a horned beast. Long has it been since her ears were filled with such stories. She quit working at Haven three years ago and never looked back at her responsibilities as a service coordinator. She never missed it, never thought back about what her ex-coworkers were doing or who still worked there. After seeing countless people lose hope and only being able to do so much, she took her chances in something more tangible for her tastes. She was happy working as a bank teller, it made sense to her and the help she was able to provide could be solved fairly quickly. My mind was just remembering of times past, she thought.

VI

Oakphur- a small rural town- but not lost to the world. A large highway passes through. The town has many truck stops, chain restaurants, and a well-known community college. No harrowing woods encompass the town for it stands on the high plains of the premium basin of West Texas. No tales of the macabre or demonic have ever circulated this place, yet over the past several days Yesenia has had a constant eerie feeling of being watched and being followed. Her paranoia is constant and it is starting to affect her job performance. She constantly catches herself zoning out during work meetings, social interactions with people, and even conversations with her boyfriend. She has felt a depression creep over her like a heavy blanket as she is starting to feel less motivated to do the hobbies she enjoys and is fighting with herself to just get out of bed on time to get ready and make it to work.

“You need some time off, I’m telling you just use your PTO,” says Joshua in a pleading tone. Yesenia sighs while slouching on her couch. “I put in a time off request for this Thursday, Friday, and next Monday. I should know by tomorrow.”

“Good! That's good,” says Joshua. “Have you thought of looking for another job? Maybe something not as stressful.”

“It's not the job,” Yesenia says slowly. “The job itself is not hard and I actually like it, it's… it's just.” Joshua sees Yesenia sigh and fixes her gaze on her twiddling thumbs.

“It’s just?” Follows up Joshua.

“I don’t know, I’ve been getting in my head a lot lately and I keep remembering old clients from my past job at the MHMR.”

“Do you miss it?”

“No,” Yesenia pauses while picking on her thumbnail. “Things that they used to say, they all seem similar-“ her eyes water up, she starts heaving slightly, and Joshua quickly holds Yesenia comforting her, wiping away tears.

“Hey hey hey, ughh look at it like this. Maybe you’re more aware of the signs and symptoms because of your experience. We all get overwhelmed and stressed, even if we don’t want to admit it. Hell! Everyone is depressed nowadays,” chuckles Joshua. “Maybe this is a good sign, your mind is telling you what it needs, maybe you just need to listen to it.”

Yesenia is aware of what Joshua is talking about but that is not it. She is afraid of what sinister happenings are going on below. She is aware of the muffle sounds coming from her neighbor's apartment. They are not muffles of conversation, in fact, they are not coming from inside. They are whispers designed for her, perhaps within outside her walls. The few nightmares she has had recently also resemble ideas that she heard and imagined a few years ago. She is afraid to peer through her window the times she has heard the heavy steps come up the grated stairs of her apartment. She is afraid that this time, it has picked her.

“Look, you know the kind of help that is out there,” says Joshua looking at Yesenia. “I know we’re both stubborn, but it would be idiotic to think we can go through this by ourselves. Perhaps talking to a counselor might help.”

“I don’t think I need a counselor.”

“It doesn’t hurt to try.”

Yesenia takes some deep breaths and nods. “I’ll think about it.” 

Joshua remains supportive of his girlfriend. Her requested days got approved and the two spend a much-needed restful weekend. A few weeks go by and Yesenia feels more relieved and less paranoid. She goes to work with more motivation and feels her smile returning. Although she has been feeling better, Joshua continues to insist on her going to see someone. He reasons that even though when things seem to be going well, it is important to still analyze and process all aspects of our lives in hopes of preventing ourselves from falling into another deep depression. Yesenia agrees with her boyfriend but has a hard time explaining to him her actual fears. I don’t think any amount of therapy will stop what is perhaps haunting this town. Another explanation Yesenia gives Joshua for her hesitation is the fear of seeing old coworkers and the gossip. She was once a worker at Haven, now she feels embarrassed at the thought of returning as a patient.

“You don’t have to see a therapist there,” says Joshua. “I’m sure there’s one with a private practice that you can see instead.”

“Like I said babe, I’ll think about.”

Yesenia overcomes her stubbornness after a while of thinking about her talks with Joshua. The last nightmare she had was a few days ago and the last she heard whispers was about a week ago. The days have been going well for Yesenia, but her paranoia of all of these occurrences popping back up again continues to linger in her brain like a pebble stuck in one’s shoe. She remembers how she used to look for providers to make referrals back when she used to work at Haven. One thing that always surprised her was how many mental health providers there were in such a small town as Oakphur. Everyone at Haven would always talk about the college courses one could take at the community college and the process to getting licensed through Texas Institute of Science and Technology-which was only a forty-five-minute drive from Oakphur. Apparently, most mental health providers would stay in this area because of the internship hours given by Haven. Now it was only a matter of finding one that would accept her insurance. The name of Mr. Ian Prescott comes up during Yesenia’s search. She remembers referring some of her clients to Mr. Prescott. She remembers the fame that the other service coordinators would give him but Yesenia never met Mr. Prescott in person. She decides to pick him and writes down the contact information. During one of her work shifts she finds time to call Mr. Prescott’s office and schedule an intake session. She gives the secretary any information they need and gives a brief explanation of presenting problems.

When the day of the appointment arrives, Yesenia is ready to give some brief explanations of what she has been dreaming about and the paranoia. She is adamant that nothing will help but perhaps Mr. Prescott has heard similar stories as she has, perhaps this will be a time for both to figure out what is going on. Yesenia has not told anybody of the stories her clients would go through. She sees the similarities between them and her. The difference is, she knows that she is not crazy. This is not in her head, but who would believe such silly stories? She finds hope through her thought processes that talking about this will help her understand what is going on and maybe she can work with someone to figure out why people here have similar nightmares.

When she arrives at Mr. Prescott’s office, everything is congenial. The secretary is polite and the ambiance of the waiting room is cozy. Yesenia sees the time on her phone and knows that her appointment time is almost here. The gloss-stained oak door opens and a young gentleman steps out shaking hands and telling the therapist ‘thank you.’

The young gentleman walks away and the other gentleman- much older with peppered hair- looks at Yesenia. “Are you my four o’clock? Ughh Ms. Ramos?”

“Yes, that's me.”

“Wonderful! Right this way ma’am.”

Mr. Prescott’s office is adorned with various art pieces framed with motivational quotations, an oval mahogany coffee table in the middle with various psychology publication magazines, a large leather couch against a wall, a large bookshelf against another wall, and an oak desk with his desktop and papers scattered across the desk. In the office, there is another door behind the desk, Yesenia pays no mind to it as she thinks it is perhaps a closet or private bathroom. Mr. Prescott introduces himself and grabs a packet of forms. The session commences and Yesenia answers all the questions that Mr. Prescott asks. While Mr. Prescott writes down information on his packet of forms and explains various therapeutic modalities to Yesenia. She notices some desk ornaments like a plaque with Mr. Prescott’s name, a small glass trophy of sorts, some paperweights, and a small resin figurine next to the computer desktop. Yesenia fixates on the resin figurine for it looks like a chess piece but it is not a chess piece Yesenia recognizes. It is not a knight yet it has the head of an animal. An animal with a headpiece of sorts, she can make out the figurine almost crouched in a fetal position holding its knees tight to its chest. Yesenia’s curiosity spikes, she can feel herself lose focus on what Mr. Prescott is asking. She is now constantly following up with ‘huh’ and ‘sorry can you repeat that.’

It takes a phone call to snap Yesenia back into focus, Mr. Prescott excuses himself and walks over to his desk picking up his cell phone. He did mention once they started that he was expecting a phone call. Yesenia does not mind as Mr. Prescott is addressing some concerns. Sounds like a CPS worker, thinks Yesenia. After the call, Mr. Prescott apologizes and opens the door behind him, Yesenia was right. It is a closet and she can see various coats that Mr. Prescott has hanged. While he is putting his cell phone away in his coat pocket something catches Yesenia’s attention. On the farthest wall of the closet, Yesenia sees a large black coat hanging with golden seams. It is long and looks more like a cape than a coat. Yesenia looks attentively for a few seconds and can see that the cape has what seems like a hood drooping in front of the rest of the black cloth.

Mr. Prescott closes the door and returns to his seat. Yesenia continues to answer questions and also gives her presenting problems. She holds off on what she has been experiencing and only mentions mild symptoms of depression and paranoia. She feels that the rest will take time to discuss.

Continuing with the session Yesenia reverts her focus to the resin figurine. Like someone was tugging on her chest with a fishing line. She could not see what it was but she could feel an immense pressure to just get a closer glance at what that faux chess piece is. Without giving much thought Yesenia politely says to Mr. Prescott that she could not help but notice the resin figurine and that it looks like nothing seen in local stores. Mr. Prescott chuckles and says “Because it isn’t local.” He fulfills Yesenia’s request, he gets up and picks up the figurine handing it to Yesenia. He explains that it was hand-carved many years ago by an unknown person.

Yesenia trembles as soon as she can get a better view of the figure. It was not resin, it was wood, an expensive wood not from the area. It was weathered and the original bone white paint had chipped some. It was well taken care of as it had no cracks or dents. The fetal position of the figurine was not fetal, it was perched. Perched like a gargoyle although Yesenia could make out what the base was. Her hands sweat, she does not want to make it obvious but she now understands why her curiosity was bubbling like a pressure cooker not rightfully sealed. The dark coat with golden seams was not a coat at all as this area does not get cold enough for such heavy jackets. It’s a long hooded robe, Yesenia thinks. It’s not a figurine, it's an idol. I understand now what lurks in the night, the abomination of beast and humanoid. The demonic watching, waiting, waiting for what? Waiting for the sanity of innocence to slowly wither away, to be driven to madness as to take one’s life.

Yesenia looks up and sees Mr. Prescott sitting still, smirking with a wretched smile watching her observe the idol. It is no wonder in such a small town mental health services thrive. Where will it end? What is it to begin with? How can you name the unnameable?

She then turns the goat-headed idol to its dorsal where she sees ‘Satyrinoch’ etched into the wooden base.