Category Archives: hypnotherapy

Gloria Has Three Eyes

automatic writing, childhood 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 

 

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

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.

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.

The Guardian Speaks

hypnotherapy

“My role is to bring you knowledge so you have the assurance and confidence you need for the work ahead of you to help Gloria reach her full potential as a human being. My job is enjoyable, a work of love and pleasure. To see two human beings become as greatly as they can be is certainly not a duty. I stand for faith, hope, charity, and love—the good things in life. You could call me a good influence. I create love and blessings.

Gloria and Gloria’s Helper are to help themselves, first of all. If they did not want to help themselves, I couldn’t help at all. What they or you get confused about, or threatens you or them, then I am able to step in by feelings of love, nature and blessings to enable you back to an optimistic nature. Instead of your being pessimistic, I help you see the truth, the reality of things, not pessimism. I have to leave you in comfort and encouraged—couldn’t leave you depressed and discouraged, then I would fail. You see the whole thing has been an optimistic act. So what we have done is an act of procreation and love. We all stuck together so Gloria didn’t commit suicide. There was always someone to pick us up. That’s how we work together as ONE.

If Gloria had enough energy left in her body, I could transmit directly to her rather than going between you and Gloria’s Helper; but she’s not ready for that anyway. She would misunderstand and think she was hearing voices or think I was another personality. This morning I am able to take energy, but not full energy. I couldn’t do that. I am allowed just so much energy;  I couldn’t take over her personality. This comes from her soul, like when you peel an onion and get different layers. The soul is the same way. You can get to different parts of the soul and this is where I come in. I couldn’t take over her personality; she was born free with free choices. This is where multiple personality goes wrong—tries to change person’s thoughts and personality. Hypnosis allows me to have access to the core of her ‘spirit.’ I mean that’s one part, might make it clearer. I get very excited when I can make someone open minded about things. Not in a glorified way. It’s my job; I took it on because I wanted to. I didn’t have to. I didn’t know if it would work, or not, but now I know it will and I am very excited about it. I hesitate to use the word ‘spirit’ because it’s part of herself. It’s not really a ‘spirit’ but herself as a whole, and it’s herself uniting herself with all the parts of the system. People would not understand the word ‘spirit’ where this is concerned. Be assured I won’t lead you wrong or astray; you will in time come to understand fully. It may be better for you not to get too curious about me for your own peace of mind. It may put doubts into your mind. Main ingredient of our work is faith. No doubts our work can progress. Every human being has guides and a guardian angel, but not like me. I am another part of Gloria who she opened her mind to. I took a lot of Gloria’s energy this morning—feel a little guilty about that. Guess she didn’t eat breakfast before she came down here.”

The Guardian

MANUSCRIPT POSTSCRIPT GLORIA RISING

childhood trauma, healing, hypnotherapy

Gloria Rising pp. xii-xiv

I struggled to keep my writing hand steady. It trembled as if detached from my body. I frantically scribbled down this note after finishing Gloria’s manuscript out of fear of a terrifying premonition that I would not awaken to see the dawn. This whole experience has been as if I had awoken from a nightmare, but it wasn’t my nightmare—it was real—too real to have imagined, let alone lived through and survived. I am Dr. Adam Jaxon, and if by chance you are reading this, I am already dead. I was a renowned and distinguished hypnotherapist and treated thousands of people in my lifetime, but Gloria B’s electrifying hypnotherapy captivated and stunned me. Unfortunately, I was reluctant to share her terrifying and heart-wrenching story for fear no one would believe the otherworldly powers that literally came to guide and help me heal her. I feared my old associates would think I had gone senile or worse mad. Now I feel ashamed for being such a coward, for allowing myself to be controlled by the homogenized expectations of my profession and being paralyzed by irrational fears that I would be scorned and rejected, if I spoke my mind. I now feel shame and guilt that my arrogance and fear got the best of me and nearly bankrupted my morals and destroyed me. After all Gloria and I had been through, I could not live with the thought that, in the end, I had betrayed her trust and let her down. But thanks to her endearing memory and loving spirit, I came to my senses while gazing at my image in a mirror. I flew into a rage and smashed the pathetic image with my wine glass into a million pieces; blood trickled down my wrist, but I didn’t care. I shouted, “To hell with my ego and reputation,” over and over again, until my voice grew too hoarse to scream anymore. I yielded to my guilty conscience to write her story that I had promised her. Besides, my health was failing, and Gloria’s story was too momentous and meaningful to be forgotten and buried in my cold grave. So, I feverishly wrote over the past year, and finally finished the manuscript this very night—just days before my 100th birthday. But alas, this morning, I sensed a chilling premonition that I would not be here to celebrate it. So, I left the precious manuscript, and this postscript, on my oak writing desk with a poignant note and scrupulous instructions for its publication, for my daughter to find. It would be my last fond gesture and chance to share my lifeworks with her, albeit, beyond the grave. I know if I died tonight, I would die a happy man at peace with myself knowing Gloria’s story would finally be told—a mysterious and astonishing story that defies the timeworn precepts of modern psychology and psychiatry—where insanity, genius, the metaphysical, and the mystery of life come together to beguile and confound our contemporary understanding of the mind and its limitless powers to heal.

Dr. Adam Jaxon

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