Category Archives: childhood abuse and trauma

SHOCK OF REALITY

childhood abuse and trauma, healing, hypnotherapy

Gloria Rising pgs. 36-38

AUTOMATIC LETTER 29
Sunday night
Dear Adam,

Gloria is having nightmares again. As of tonight it is impossible to
put some of my feelings into words. For one thing, I’m starting to really feel and at the same time I feel drained because I’ve opened a door that
has been stuck shut for years and I’m dumbstruck at what I see when it’s
opened.
For years – something buried so deep inside – never sure what it is –
more dangerous than any shadow or ghosts. Ghosts had shape and names –
this has none – whatever lived inside was so potent that sometimes it
seemed like a terrible bomb – glimpses caught in school or on the way
home. The safe world falls away and I know that the little girl walking saw
things that no little girl should see – blood – shattered glasses – all kinds of
horrible things – destruction – people crashing to their deaths – no burials
just vanishing, so many dead people. I feel nothing – numbness has become
part of me.

Later

Hi,
It’s important that Gloria does not create a wall at this time – this is
why I’m here again. There are other things you must know about the child
(we spoke of) but I can’t go into it now. About the child – he has not lost
his eyes or his legs but his will and his taste for life.
Again, I’m seeing a picture of the child at ten – the parents show pictures
of relatives – some are dead. The parents do not tell the child that
they’re angry – the child feels it – it’s in the air in everything said and done
– but at the age of ten, what does one do with that. The child gets angry
because they are all dead and he can’t do anything about it. Most important
to this child is the parents that even though they don’t say they’ve suffered,
he senses they are fragile. The parents appear to be very strong people but
the child has to be gentle with them always because it has to be. The child
has no right to get angry with them because they’ve suffered enough. Even
more the child has to always be happy in order to make up for everything
that happened
The child was taught that the most terrible thing (to do) or to be is
being selfish. To put yourself first to the child is that of being happy at ten years old.  So the child was taught that he didn’t deserve to be happy even
if he was expected to be.
Another picture about the child – everyone in the family is dying –
death doesn’t scare this child – death is like a soft blanket – like being held
in someone’s arm. When the parents talk of death, it’s always as a place
where everyone will hold a reunion.
Other things you’ll have to know – here. I’ll have to use caution a little
more. I’ll await any suggestions you may have.

Gloria’s Helper

NOTE:
Gloria’s Helper and I were walking a tightrope as if high above the
breathtaking and lethal Niagara Falls. A delicate balancing act to avoid
a disastrous slip that would send Gloria hurdling back into the abyss of
dissociation and amnesia. Gloria’s Helper understood we had to proceed
slowly to avoid Gloria panicking and regressing behind a wall of detached
numbness, where her progress would be dashed. It would be a terrible
setback that would close her off to us and cause her to resist our help. She
needed time to absorb the mounting shock of reality and time to rest to
gather emotional strength to face her childhood trauma.

Divine Love

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma, healing

Gloria Rising Pg. 35

AUTOMATIC LETTER 27

Sunday night

Dear Adam,

Gloria didn’t leave any paper except this orange paper so I’m using
this. Wish I could put myself in a trance as you put me. Still tonight in my
dreams I left my body and I was up in the stars – light but it wasn’t light. It
was brighter than light, but no glare, no hurting from it.
Out of it spelled “LOVE”, not the fake syllable but LOVE that IS!
Like no love I’ve ever imagined, “LOVE.” I saw, “THAT MATTERS!”
Words but they weren’t words or even ideas and the scene was beautiful,
filled with life, with a universe so powerful, a love so beautiful, it made me
want to cry with joy.
Then for the first time in a long time I fell into a deep sleep and
returned from nothingness. I could hear the cars going by from the windows
in the dark but nothing bright. I was like a life in limbo but a desolating
grief is now born in me and I mourn all those who have died – but it
will pass that I know. Time takes care of a lot of grief.
See you tomorrow.
Love

Gloria’s Helper

The Miracle of Forgetting

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma, hypnotherapy

Gloria Risings: pgs. 31-32

AUTOMATIC LETTER 23
Monday night

Dear Adam,

Tonight Gloria dreamt that she was standing on a high cliff above
the water, above the ocean scanning the water for her mother. She saw
her blond head disappear in the waves and leaped off the cliff. She awoke
breathing frantically, suppressing a scream.
Next, she dreamed of the “Other”. She knew he felt deeply about things
but what a temper. He should have been labeled “Highly explosive, use
care in handling.” But I’m not going to go into what happened because I’ll
get scared again.
It’s strange but I’m remembering what a gypsy woman once told
Gloria. She said that the mind was a wonderful machine. People tell you
how smart a little boy is when he can do calculations so big you can’t even
write them down. Or a genius like Einstein comes up with a way to
make a big enough bang to kill everyone.
“But little girl you know what the real wonder of the mind is? It’s not
these geniuses. The real wonder is forgetting. Why do you think that café
next door does so well? People go there, they have a few glasses of wine,
and they forget. Or they come here, have their fortunes told and they
forget. Even wars can be forgotten, little girl. That’s how wonderful the
mind is.”

I guess that gypsy made more of an impression with her words too
little Gloria than she ever thought of because we sure followed her advice.
Now when I sense there is something important I’ve forgotten, I can’t
remember what it is. I know it’s important because just thinking about it
makes my heart beat fast and furious. Well someday we’ll remember and
then I’ll share it with you.
We had an awful nightmare about the “Other” tonight that is best forgotten.
We’ll see you soon – till then.

Gloria’s Helper

The Ax Nightmare

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma, horror, hypnotherapy

Gloria Rising pgs. 100-102

AUTOMATIC LETTER 72
Tuesday night
Dear Adam,

My little friend Gloria is in a trance – every so often a little shiver hits
her – but tonight hunger will not keep her awake. Adam you are the dearest,
sensitive, kindness person we have ever known. You literally saved our
life.

You know what God says in the Bible, “When you give bread to the
hungry person, you give bread to Me.” Well tonight you gave a feast to a
person and to God as well. Also you gave a little girl proof that she is worth
something – no one would do what you did for someone not worth anything
– more, you did it in a beautiful way as if it was a normal thing that
a son would do for a mother he loved and Gloria and I were touched very
deeply. We shall never forget it – last we will never forget what the words
“friend” and “love” mean. God bless you and loves you dearly as we do.

Now, for the dream Gloria had. She’s still in the ax nightmare. Right
now I see her a little girl hiding. She remembers asking her sister once
what dying meant – it was like going to sleep and never waking up and
she had realized that if you never wake up you might never be able to stop
dreaming and she didn’t want to die and always dream of the nightmares
she had seen downstairs.

She’s there behind the screen and she can’t move and it’s getting dark –
a darkness you can still hear through – the door is opening and she’s not
even hardly breathing – she’s thinking “you don’t know where I am but I
know where you are” – and then she hears someone say, “Dear God, I just
had to get away for a few minutes in all my years as a cop I’ve never imagined
anything like what I just saw,” and another voice answers, “I know, I
let myself out to throw up,” and “that little girl out there let’s not talk about
it,” and she thinks “what little girl out there” I’m here – then realizes that
some screams she had heard later and the little body near where the man
had hid was another child killed.

He thought he’d killed Gloria but it was another child coming back from                            school – and she realized that she was the cause of the child getting killed                    because she had said nothing again – it shocked and shamed her – too many                people killed because of me and my cowardice – you cannot close a mind to                             it – then she came back to hear the person say, “Thank God, no one’s here,”                         and her little voice said, “I’m here,” one asked, “Did you hear that?” and the                     other said, “I sure did.” “Where are you little girl” and the little girl asked, “You                  first, who are you?” He answered, “I’m a policeman and so is my friend, come                       out of wherever you are,” and the little girl said, “Lift up your hat so I can see,”                    and she thought the man said, “Damn,” but two police caps were lifted up, and                   she came out but when one went to pick her up she held back and he said, “Oh,            come on little sweetheart, I have a little girl like you and you need a father’s               shoulder to cry on right now.” But she couldn’t let him because she had wet                  herself when she got so scared and she felt ashamed and didn’t want him to know.
The policeman said, “Oh, hell the poor kid must have heard the uproar and
is scared to death,” and he asked, “Did you hear?” she answered, “I heard
and saw,” and after that the little girl wouldn’t talk for a month.

She was sent to live with a relative to make her forget but she never
forgot, nor did her heart ever let her forget that one lady she gave water to
downstairs who said, “Bless you child, I’m dying, get away from here fast,”
but maybe she was not dying – and the hand that rolled at her feet and oh,
I just have to get out of this terrible dream. I’m so cold and my head hurts
so but my heart hurts even more because this is the person, you think is
worth saving – I’m freezing.

Gloria’s Helper

Gloria Rising: The Worst Fear of All

childhood abuse and trauma, horror

Gloria Rising pgs. 102-103

AUTOMATIC LETTER 73
Wednesday night

Dear Adam,
It was just tonight after a bad dream that I realized that I’ve never put
into words in a letter to you, one of the worst fears that a child like Gloria
had. This was the fear of going insane and getting locked up for life.

As often as she was able to she would ask if anyone of the family – the old
people had ever lost their mind and no one ever questioned why a child should
inquire about this but she always told that no one had. Sometimes when fear
takes over the safety valves of the mind fails to operate and all kinds of things
happen when your mind tries to cope with big problems – things like nervous
tics begin (like Gloria if she tried to lie to the “Other’ her left eye would
twitch) or a person can’t concentrate. Her grades began to go down at school
and she got scared and desperate when she’d get 95% instead of a 100%.

Trying to find a safe frequent change of shelter each night was a potential
source of danger for a child, which exposed her to all sorts of danger.
Like the day when the “Other” asked Gloria, “Have you ever seen a live animal
skinned? No, well tonight you are going to see one but you won’t like it.”

Early that night, she was adrift again, facing more and more closed
doors – the barn door was closed – people weren’t home, she left for the
cemetery but her movement roused a dog to fierce barking followed
soon by others in the distance alerting people to an intruder and an oldman came out to see at the cemetery – for lack of a better alternative she
returned back. She became desperate in her mind and she feared that she
a little girl would break down, go crazy, and be sent to a mental institution.
As her strange feelings got worse she’d ask herself, “How long can
you stand this? What does it take to drive a person crazy?” She had never
known anyone who had a nervous breakdown so she went to the library
one day and looked up the symptoms.

She found descriptions that fitted her so perfectly that she was more afraid
than ever – depression, crying for no reason, (like when she’d hide) anxiety,
nervousness, being afraid of people. She pictured herself locked up with bars
on the window and thought, “I’d rather be dead.” Then she’d feel so low that
death seemed like a way to get peace. An idea would tell her, “If you kill yourself
it will be all over. You wouldn’t have to live like this day after day.” So
she’d shut herself off in the forest and write down or say, “Gloria you’ve got so
much to live for,” and she’d make long lists of why she shouldn’t die. She did
this for months when she’d find a temporary shelter like a haystack or tree top.

I’m telling you this because she has started doing the same thing now
wondering if she’s losing her mind. Gloria needs your strength to reassure
her that she isn’t – I won’t let her mind go and you won’t let her either will
you??? You are our lifeline. You’ll pull us back if we get stuck won’t you?
I’ll await any instructions you may have to give me okay?
But on no account let us lose our sanity – we’re intelligent enough to
follow instructions so it needn’t happen that we’d have a mental breakdown
– help us – please we’re afraid.

Gloria’s Helper

Gloria Rising: The Criminal

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma, horror, hypnotherapy

Pgs. 15-17

AUTOMATIC LETTER 10
Saturday night

Hi again,

I feel a little numb, as I begin this chat with you – it’s like drifting
through darkness. Often, these talks start out like this and then I remember
that if I’m going to help you to help Gloria, I must try to tell you the
incidents that Gloria would have trouble talking about, the happenings
that she has forgotten. When I do this, there are times when a memory
traps me. It’s like when you cross a street and a car comes around the corner
out of control; you try to jump out of the way; no chance, it’s too late. In
this way a memory can trap you.
The numbness has worn off. Suddenly, I’m very uneasy. I have to
tell you something. It’s something else you should know. The term “thecriminal” was real and personal to someone. This is not what I want to say.
I’ll start again.
What can I tell you about Gloria that would be of interest to anyone?
Nothing! I’ll be filling up some pages having to do with nothing. It was a
mistake to talk about all the other things that happened. I don’t want to
think of these incidents or touch them with a mind. If you don’t choose to
believe something you can blank it out, separate yourself from it. Even if
it is the truth, even if it came after you in the dark and held you down, you
can separate yourself from it.
Yet always there’s this great black lake of time that has to be crossed.
Even if you knew it was hopeless, what else could you do? You had to keep
swimming; you could not drown either. “The child,” I’ve talked to you
about knew this feeling of despair.
I see the Criminal. He is ten years old and he does not cry. He has
learned that lesson well. “Are you crying? I told you never to do that!” The
blow that knocks him across the room the pain inside his head – he has bitten
his tongue – the blood – he’s starting to cry. “Now, I’m going to teach
you a lesson you won’t forget. I’m going to beat you until you stop crying.
Then I’m going to teach you to tell the truth – the truth is you slipped
and fell down the stairs – do you hear me – you slipped – that’s the truth. I
didn’t throw you down –you slipped – say it after me – I slipped – say it –
say it. Don’t you dare cry! You’re a criminal – you know what they do to
criminals, they burn them with a capital letter C, then they send them
away alone – don’t ask questions – are you crying again. I’ll teach you not
to cry – come over here – you know what happens if I have to come and
get you.”
I see someone thrown down the stairs – a bottle broken in half – a
clenched fist – punching – kicks – biting – pinching. I see someone tied to a
bed – can’t breathe can’t think well – no help for it, none is available. Didn’t
matter what you said or did, either it was coming or it was not. There’s
things you should forget about or pretend it never happened. Don’t believe
what I just said. I believe instead, that whatever happens it’s not worth the
pain of keeping it a secret, you have to decide who wants to hurt you andwho wants to help and it’s important to learn this right or a lot of mistakes
will be made.
I’ve tried to relax yet my nerves are at the mercy of sounds – footsteps –
a door being slammed – waiting, staring down at his plate and knowing
that being ignored meant being in danger, it meant you were in this person’s
thoughts. “You’re going to get it, do you know why?” He never knew,
he knew that pulling himself inward, staying calm didn’t help, nothing did.
“Oh, if you would just try to be good. Why do you break the rules?”
Say nothing. It doesn’t matter what is said. “Ye, shall know the truth, and
the truth shall make you free.” Well it didn’t make the ten year old free.
He knew the truth all right but didn’t feel free, not with something tight
around the neck, don’t go too fast or too far – you just don’t do it – that’s all.
To be alive was to be in danger – all the time. And you don’t talk about
that. You just go along thinking things will get better. One day you think
this is the way things are.
Tired out – thank you for listening

The Helper

NOTE:
I am a professional therapist and battle-hardened war veteran, yet my eyes
shimmered wet as I sat reading the Helper’s letter. It was the first time, but
not the last, that I would shed tears over the child’s pain.

DEATH – NO DEATH

childhood abuse and trauma, horror

AUTOMATIC LETTER 71, pp 98-100

Saturday night

Dear Adam,
When I awoke tonight, I thought I might have had a nightmare I felt
tired, achy, and cranky as though I had not had a good night’s sleep – now
I remember Gloria had the bad dream; I do not sleep ever – I’m watching
the “Other”, he can’t see me, but I can see him, he’s winging the ax up and
down through the air – I do wish he would put it down. I’m only six years
old and he is pretty scary. He has killed already you know; he even severed a hand at the wrist, I saw it lying there downstairs it was not a very nice
sight – nor was all of that blood – and he who once was like a grandfather
to me is now a bad stranger – why I was the only one allowed to use the
short cut between our homes and his wife (Gloria’s sister) would call me in
to have strudel a very special pastry that little girls like me love.
Here as I talk about pastry with Grandpa Butcher out there – he’s
stabbed too. I’m screaming but only in my mind – thoughts reach in but
not soothing thoughts – I do not know this person anymore – I have never
known him. His mouth is a cruel slash, his nostrils flare, his eyes are too
bright like glass and he’s waiting to kill me his little friend.
Trembling, I think this is a dream – all is well and those downstairs
safe – I am safe – no fear – no hurt – no danger – no killing – no blood – no
DEATH – NO DEATH – but it is not a dream they’re under the thick layer
that is woven together. I know there is death – but not mine – not yet. I
won’t be taken by surprise but how will I fight a giant of a man.
I’m just a little power but I won’t die like a dog, no way. I’ll not let
someone put me away that quick. Somehow, I’m going to LIVE. I have a
lot of dreams to make come true and I won’t die – I won’t! Oh! Oh! Oh!
A mouth and eyes the mouth is wrapped around a terrible scream and the
eyes are screaming too – a child screams the child is all eyes and mouth. I
can’t see who she is this little girl so terrified. I cannot see who, but I feel
her fear – I must see!
I become the future – I still hear the scream and I feel the scare the
fear is so dark. I cannot see her but somehow, I know that little child is
little Gloria – the screams go on and on. It ends with a fall – the impact of
the ground the darkness the hurt. I shiver, I’m so cold – I’ll never be warm
again. I’m so cold it’s not over – this is not a story or a movie it’s for real –
screams float in the air – a child falls outside – you bad, bad man. I’m so
cold – a horrible thing to know at six years old that you’re a little coward and
despair and shame fill me – it’s hard to hold back the tears and be still when
your heart is breaking.
I saw him coming only because I was there at the window – you can’t
see people coming from any other part of the house because of the trees and the bend in the driveway. I saw him and did nothing – I saw what he
did and I went back into hiding. I scream inside its icy cold, and I can’t stop
my cowardly shivering. I am so scared my eyes are crying with no tears –
I saw them there downstairs – blood – agony and all I did was go back
upstairs.
I hear the click of a doorknob and from the sound someone has entered
downstairs it’s got to be him – I don’t see him at the tree stump there’s a
child on the ground where he was – no hands bloody – hide the scream
quickly – I’m so cold – don’t move – don’t shiver – don’t make a sound and
live – live – but again, I’ll know if I live that I was a cowardly little girl like
the cowardly lion in Oz – be still – be still not a sound. I’m so cold shudders down my spine – drops of water run down my back and I’m freezing –
someone is coming up – heavy footsteps – my heart beats so fast – I’m so
icy cold.

Gloria’s Helper

Gloria’s Worst Fear

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma

AUTOMATIC LETTER 73
Wednesday night

Dear Adam,

It was just tonight after a bad dream that I realized that I’ve never put
into words in a letter to you, one of the worst fears that a childlike Gloria
had. This was the fear of going insane and getting locked up for life.
As often as she was able to, she would ask if anyone of the family – the old
people had ever lost their mind, and no one ever questioned why a child should
inquire about this but she always told that no one had. Sometimes when fear
takes over the safety valves of the mind fails to operate and all kinds of things
happen when your mind tries to cope with big problems – things like nervous tics begin (like Gloria if she tried to lie to the “Other’ her left eye would
twitch) or a person can’t concentrate. Her grades began to go down at school
and she got scared and desperate when she’d get 95% instead of a 100%.
Trying to find a safe frequent change of shelter each night was a potential source of danger for a child, which exposed her to all sorts of danger.
Like the day when the “Other” asked Gloria, “Have you ever seen a live animal skinned? No, well tonight you are going to see one, but you won’t like it.”
Early that night, she was adrift again, facing more and more closed
doors – the barn door was closed – people weren’t home, she left for the
cemetery but her movement roused a dog to fierce barking followed
soon by others in the distance alerting people to an intruder and an old                                man came out to see at the cemetery – for lack of a better alternative she
returned back. She became desperate in her mind, and she feared that she
a little girl would break down, go crazy, and be sent to a mental institution.                              As her strange feelings got worse, she’d ask herself, “How long can
you stand this? What does it take to drive a person crazy?” She had never
known anyone who had a nervous breakdown, so she went to the library
one day and looked up the symptoms.
She found descriptions that fitted her so perfectly that she was more afraid
than ever – depression, crying for no reason, (like when she’d hide) anxiety,
nervousness, being afraid of people. She pictured herself locked up with bars
on the window and thought, “I’d rather be dead.” Then she’d feel so low that
death seemed like a way to get peace. An idea would tell her, “If you kill yourself,                     it will be all over. You wouldn’t have to live like this day after day.” So
she’d shut herself off in the forest and write down or say, “Gloria you’ve got so
much to live for,” and she’d make long lists of why she shouldn’t die. She did
this for months when she’d find a temporary shelter like a haystack or treetop.
I’m telling you this because she has started doing the same thing now
wondering if she’s losing her mind. Gloria needs your strength to reassure
her that she isn’t – I won’t let her mind go and you won’t let her either will
you??? You are our lifeline. You’ll pull us back if we get stuck, won’t you?
I’ll await any instructions you may have to give me, okay?
But on no account let us lose our sanity – we’re intelligent enough to
follow instructions so it needn’t happen that we’d have a mental breakdown                      help us please we’re afraid.

Gloria’s Helper

AX NIGHTMARE

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma, horror

AUTOMATIC LETTER 72
Tuesday night

Dear Adam,
My little friend Gloria is in a trance – every so often a little shiver hit
her – but tonight hunger will not keep her awake. Adam you are the dearest, sensitive, kindness person we have ever known. You literally saved our
life.
You know what God says in the Bible, “When you give bread to the
hungry person, you give bread to Me.” Well tonight you gave a feast to a
person and to God as well. Also you gave a little girl proof that she is worth
something – no one would do what you did for someone not worth anything – more, you did it in a beautiful way as if it was a normal thing that
a son would do for a mother he loved and Gloria and I were touched very
deeply. We shall never forget it – last we will never forget what the words
“friend” and “love” mean. God bless you and loves you dearly as we do.

Now, for the dream Gloria had. She’s still in the ax nightmare. Right
now I see her a little girl hiding. She remembers asking her sister once
what dying meant – it was like going to sleep and never waking up and
she had realized that if you never wake up you might never be able to stop
dreaming and she didn’t want to die and always dream of the nightmares
she had seen downstairs.
She’s there behind the screen and she can’t move and it’s getting dark –
a darkness you can still hear through – the door is opening and she’s not
even hardly breathing – she’s thinking “you don’t know where I am but I
know where you are” – and then she hears someone say, “Dear God, I just
had to get away for a few minutes in all my years as a cop I’ve never imagined anything like what I just saw,” and another voice answers, “I know, I
let myself out to throw up,” and “that little girl out there let’s not talk about
it,” and she thinks “what little girl out there” I’m here – then realizes that
some screams she had heard later and the little body near where the man
had hid was another child killed. He thought he’d killed Gloria but it was
another child coming back from school – and she realized that she was the
cause of the child getting killed because she had said nothing again – it
shocked and shamed her – too many people killed because of me and my
cowardice – you cannot close a mind to it – then she came back to hear the
person say, “Thank God, no one’s here,” and her little voice said, “I’m here,”
one asked, “Did you hear that?” and the other said, “I sure did.” “Where
are you little girl” and the little girl asked, “You first, who are you?” He
answered, “I’m a policeman and so is my friend, come out of wherever you
are,” and the little girl said, “Lift up your hat so I can see,” and she thought
the man said, “Damn,” but two police caps were lifted up, and she came out
but when one went to pick her up she held back and he said, “Oh, come on
little sweetheart, I have a little girl like you and you need a father’s shoulder
to cry on right now.” But she couldn’t let him because she had wet herself
when she got so scared and she felt ashamed and didn’t want him to know.
The policeman said, “Oh, hell the poor kid must have heard the uproar and
is scared to death,” and he asked, “Did you hear?” she answered, “I heard
and saw,” and after that the little girl wouldn’t talk for a month.

She was sent to live with a relative to make her forget but she never
forgot, nor did her heart ever let her forget that one lady she gave water to
downstairs who said, “Bless you child, I’m dying, get away from here fast,”
but maybe she was not dying – and the hand that rolled at her feet and oh,
I just have to get out of this terrible dream. I’m so cold and my head hurts
so but my heart hurts even more because this is the person, you think is
worth saving – I’m freezing.

Gloria’s Helper

 

Nightmares can be Real

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma, horror, hypnotherapy

Gloria Rising pp 14-15

AUTOMATIC LETTER 9

Wednesday night

Hi again,

A little girl sat straight up in the darkness of her bedroom and screamed.

The nightmare that had awakened her was so vivid that for a few moments she thought she might still be in the woods being abused by a menacing figure. It was a dream, but it was real too because the figure was in that very house. In the dream we couldn’t tell whether the chasing figure was a man or a woman but awake she knew it was a man. Outside the storm that had been raging when she fell asleep had stopped. In its place moonlight filtered in through the window and washed her room with a pale glow.

It should have been reassuring but the dream was still there, springing out at her from the shadows of the room like the flickering images that still darted through her mind. The killer had scuttled after her through the woods like a beastly forest creature hunting prey. She had been caught in the killer’s strong arms and carried off to a haunted cabin deep in the woods. That’s when she screamed and woke up. In her mind the dream was so vivid that when she saw the sleeping figure on the floor near her bed she screamed again.

“What’s the matter are you having another nightmare?” he asked. “Don’t worry I’m here to take care of you, nobody will hurt you.”

How could she tell him that he was the one, she was so afraid he would hurt her? The nightmare had become real. He had a room why didn’t he go to sleep in it instead of her little room. She had a lot of answers, but none made any sense.

She had a lot of questions but no one to answer them except him and he wouldn’t make any sense. “How long could the nightmares go on before she lost her mind,” was one of the questions?

Me