Category Archives: automatic writing

A Guardian Angel Appears

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma, supernatural

Gloria Rising pgs. 56-58

AUTOMATIC LETTER 44
Wednesday night

Dear Adam,

Thanks for gently turning us around, we were trapped – in an emotional
dead end – stuck in an emotional trap like a wild frightened animal,
with intense feelings of humiliation, shame, grief, anger, hate, helplessness, and hopelessness the little girl felt – she wanted to die. Emotions need to come
out but not bursting like a dam to drown us.
Now, I’m in a state of relaxation after having several nightmares – one
dream started out to be beautiful. I was with little Gloria and we were in
the children’s ward of a hospital when a nurse met us and led us down the
hall to what seemed an empty room – then we saw a basket like crib and the
nurse lifted a small baby wrapped in a blanket and she place the baby into
little Gloria’s arms. Gloria held the infant as if she were holding a great
treasure and tenderly touched its cheek – there was no separation between
her and the child – they were one – and her arms closed around it. She
looked at me as if unable to explain her feelings of bliss and joy – no words
were adequate for the sensations of that moment but I knew how joyful she
felt – the child was an object of love and he had a mission in life – to draw
out love and care, to make people gentle toward him – towards each other.
Little Gloria, sat in a rocker, and no sooner had the rocking commenced
than the baby’s eyes opened. The brown eyes looked straight at her and in
miraculous transformation melted in a conspiratorial smile as mouth tilted
and cheeks spread with new found happiness – gurgling the baby grabbed
little Gloria’s finger – she didn’t stand a chance. She fell in love with a little
baby and that baby knew it. It could be said that God was in that baby asking
to be loved because as Christ said, “Whatever you do to the least of my
little ones you do to me.” I felt very happy as I watched little Gloria rocking
that small bundle in her arms (knowing it was Joshua – her sister’s baby,
she could not resist – knowing he innocently had helped her love again) – if
I had known the nightmare that was to follow – well that’s another dream
and I’ll keep it separate from this one.

Same night – Wednesday

Hi again,
I’ll attempt to tell you of another dream we had tonight – it was
about Gloria but I knew I was dreaming it too. I found myself in an
almost featureless wilderness – a land of snow and ice. I lost Gloria that is one minute she was there – the next I was alone, scared, frightened
but strangely excited by the solitude and bleakness of my surroundings. I
sensed that some great secret lay just out of sight – I was a little upset too
because I felt if I discovered this secret, I’d be doing so at deadly peril –
snow swirled all around me – it became difficult to see ahead of me farther
than a few feet away – suddenly someone appeared out of the whiteness.
I didn’t recognize the person but the person seemed to know me – then
I could see that it was a man very tall and thin, and he held something
like a large circle in his hands and this circle had lines radiating from the
center of it like the spokes of a wheel. Then Gloria appeared next to him
and though she appeared like herself at first then I noticed that she had
a large single eye and her two little eyes besides – it was all very strange.
The man and Gloria beckoned that I was to follow them but I began to
feel numb and drowsy and I just let myself drop in the snow – something
was dragging me down. I heard Gloria yelling, “Wait – wait,” but a tiny
voice whispered, “This is where it ends and it doesn’t matter very much
after all,” and then the white snow turned gray and the gray turned to
black – then just as I was really beginning to relax I felt myself mysteriously
drawn up – pulled out by my wrists and I was a little girl again – too
little to understand but still I knew what was being said to me – that my
sister was down there and it was somehow my fault. The “Other” said so.
I knew I had done something terribly wrong and the sister had died and someone
was very angry at me – that was why he came into the room at night and the
blows would fall. I knew that someone had told me never to disobey again
or something terrible would happen – and I did disobey only once – what
happened? Something – terrible.
I’d better come out of this dream – something seems to be twisting
itself around my neck making it hard to breathe. I’m taking deep breathes
now (just like you told me to) and I’m okay. We’ll talk about it some other
time okay?
Gloria’s Helper

An Angel places a Third Eye on Gloria’s forehead

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma, hypnotherapy, supernatural

Gloria Rising pgs. 62-64

AUTOMATIC LETTER 48

Sunday night

Dear Adam,

I’d better put down dreams just had before I forget the whole thing.
One was a weird experience – a child is looking for his mother and she
is nowhere to be found but while she walks around searching, she meets
several other people and each of these people ask for directions – the child
points to different streets and they go along but always leave before she has
a chance to ask where his mother is.
Then something strange happens, the child sees a volcano and coming
from there is what looks like an angel. He’s running toward the child, he
approaches and tells her not to be worried and put his hand out toward the child’s forehead and tells her, “Well look at you! Now you have three eyes.”
I am looking at the child, I see Gloria and she really has three eyes – one
in the middle of her forehead. The volcano erupts and we’re running but
the fire doesn’t seem to come our way – I see a house and I grab Gloria
and head for it – there’s a golden key in the door and it turns easily but
slowly – it is filled with a family – I look at them, children, parents, and
others and Gloria starts to talk to someone she calls “mother” – her mother
tells her, “I have always loved you, I still do,” and Gloria answers, “Do you
know I love you too?” The mother says, “Yes, my child, you have proved it
always.” – there the dream focuses on others in the family – I try to come
to understand the specific needs of each member of this family and to
accommodate the need as well as it is possible – Gloria is helping me and
others start to help us – when a child cries someone is there to hold his
hand, to hug him or talk with him; when a child stumbles someone always
comes to help him up – when he mourns someone mourns with him –
there is immense comfort in this group of people – a social order and we
know that this caring is helping them to survive – it’s a good feeling – till
we hear footsteps approaching the house – everyone is saying things like,
“Don’t worry,” – “Don’t be afraid,” – hammering fists against the door –
kicking – shouting – the door stays closed. I see Gloria – she still has her
three eyes and strangely there is fear in two eyes only – I am petrified with
fear – the door opens and someone walks up to Gloria, yanks her to her
feet and drags her into the yard, saying, “Next time you’ll remember not to
put ideas into children’s heads – cry, mourn, laugh – well I’ll teach you,” –
he’s carrying Gloria (who is never a little child herself) under his arm like
a sack of grain. He’s striding across the dark yard to the pigeon house – he
fumbles with the lock, opens the door and yells, “Inside, you can stay with
the birds until you learn to obey me.”
The strangest thing happens all I can see of Gloria are her eyes flashing
and there’s fear in two eyes but one (the third eye) is twinkling and
winks at me – this is where I start to feel “it’s all over” – and then I’m in that
pigeon house – hammering my fists against the door – frantically shouting and screaming and suddenly the shack is filled with the sound of frightened birds slamming against me.
I don’t want to remember any more of this dream- too many emotions
that I’m not sure of are going on in me – will talk to you later – help, please.

Gloria’s Helper

 

Deep inside he hates me, I sense he’d enjoy killing anyone

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma, hypnotherapy

Gloria Rising pgs. 40-41

AUTOMATIC LETTER 31

Sunday night

Dear Adam,
Gloria is resting while I tell you what’s going on. It’s been one nightmare
after another. Gloria was dreaming of a hotel. She knew it was a hotel
although she had never been there before it was vast, she seemed to run
down endless corridors. People ignored her and talked to each other as she
ran past as though she was not there. She had to find someone, she didn’t
know why, she only knew she had to find this person or – or what? She
didn’t know the urgency or the reason – she turned a corner and was in a
dark narrow passage, blind – she heard breathing somewhere but could see
no one. It got darker and she started to feel her way across the passage –
she fell – it became less dark and she saw a closet door – the door started to
open slightly – she screamed and that was it – she woke up.
To add to this, her inner force refused to leave her alone – it did
nothing she could put her finger on – no outbursts but there was a feeling
of something functioning inside that wasn’t her – something that was
brooding and trying to think things out – it must have had something to
do with me.
I don’t like closets. I haven’t for a long time. I was never locked in
one like some are – but I still hate closet doors. I feel scared, anxious –
very much afraid. Many times Gloria finds that I’m the only one who has
the answers for her – it’s only because I know of things – of experiences
she doesn’t remember – of incidents that happened. It’s also because I’m
determined to take care of her. She is learning to have faith in relying on
me – it’s all thanks to you. We follow your suggestions, we don’t open the
front door, we lock our windows, and no looking through the peephole or
outside when we hear the noise this way we are protected.
All this has nothing to do with the feeling of doom – I feel right now.
Please why doesn’t somebody come – why doesn’t anyone stop this – a terrible
thought – is he going to kill me – I’m so cold – the most frightening part – he hasn’t said a word yet. I know deep inside he hates me. I sense
he’d enjoy killing anyone – and I have to get out of here.
I’m tired, exhausted, I’m leaving now.

Gloria’s Helper

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 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.

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