Trapped in the Afterlife

BONUS

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In the previous chapter, I used a personal event. I believe in life after death, reincarnations and spirits. Back in 2011, I was given a chance to experience an astral voyage into my past lives. Curiousity took over and I went through with it. As I was writing this story, I felt that what I had seen and experienced at that moment, was fitting for the story and decided to add it.

So, although this is unnecessary to the story, I thought I would add the actual, full log of that astral voyage.

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04/09/11 - My first visit in a past life

Imagination or reality? Its hard to tell. I had no control over what happened, the images were blurry yet vivid. I could feel the sun, wind and rain. I could smell the moisture and the flowers. The emotions flowed through me wild and raw.

The first step was to relax, then I was lead to a tunnel. At first, it was dark and scary but light started shinning in it and I walked into the tunnel. It became circular; more like a tube and as I walked, I wanted the freedom of wings. Suddenly, I was twirling and hovering in the air of the tunnel thanks to my newly sprouted fairy wings.

Eventually, the flight ended when I landed at the end of the tunnel. Before me was the palace of my dreams and with a smile, I stepped in with no fear. A last glance behind me told me that the tunnel had disappeared. Somehow, that didn't worry me.

Inside my palace was a long hallway with identical doors on each side. Many doors. I started walking in the hallway slowly dragging my fingers on the walls, doors and knobs. Progressively, the hallways started passing by me at an incredible speed. I couldn't distinguish a wall from a door or the floor. I'll admit that I started panicking when I tried to regain control and couldn't.

Gray spots started appearing before me and finally, I could distinguish a well being drawn pixel by pixel. Once the well was done, the pixelization process started again to create the image of a thick noose with the lose knot that is used to hangings.

I saw the well again and then I was in the eyes of someone. The person was standing in front of the well and around us, a crowd was gathering. I could feel her shaking, trembling with fear as she noticed that all the people in the crowd wore masks and black capes.

Their posture is unmoving and I can feel the hatred emanating from them. Inside the blink of an eye, they're screaming in an unknown language and throwing stones at the woman. She crumples down in a fetus position and keeps repeating the same three words in a whispered chant. She speaks the same language but with an accent as if she learned the language later in her years.

The woman is an adult, barely in her thirties and when no one can hear her chant anymore, they stop throwing stones but the woman doesn't move. Her chest doesn't even shiver with breaths. She is dead.

Behind the crowd, between two stone houses is a pile of wooden crates. Hiding behind them, with alarm clear on her face is a little girl. When the rocks stop making sounds she turns and runs away, holding onto a small pouch.

The next few years were a blur. The little girl grew older and lived in the forests as a nomand, barely ever entering villages unless absolutely necessary. She hunts rabbits and foxes, fishes and gathers wild fruits and herbs to survive.

Around the age of eighteen or ninteen, she stumbles into an empty camp. However, while she sleeps, a group of bandits find her and take her away. They laugh at her and fondle her but one of the guys stands in the back with an angry expression.

He steps forward and I don't understand what he says but the bandits turn away and go back to drinking around the fire and sharpening their knives. He leads her to a tent where he sits guard outside and she feels safe enough to sleep.

During the night, he wakes her up and forces her to take her things and follow him. They run away.

Again, years fly by as they tend to their needs and slowly fall in love.

Now pregnant, they start heading closer to a village but the journey is long and luck isn't with them.

On one fateful night, bandits find the man and beat him to death. She watches in silence from her hiding spot, not wanting to be found at the cost of her baby's life and to respect his wish that she kept on her way.

After the bandits leave, she runs away again like she did as a child. The months pass in silence as she lurks in shadows and finally she gives birth to a beautiful boy, alone in the forests. She tends to her son as best as she can but she can feel him weakening and finally she arrives in a village.

She knocks on the first door, not caring that its the middle of the night. A french woman greets her and she asks for a bed for the night; the woman agrees and lets her in.

Now in the comfort of a home, she shows her weak and sick child to the woman. Tears stream down her face and the woman quickly takes the baby with worry clear on her face.

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The images stopped there. The last scene kept repeating itself until I was back to the confusiong of the speeding hallway. Finally the hallway re-appeared and I was propelled out of the palace, through the tunnel and back to myself.

I opened my eyes and I was shaking. I didn't understand what I had seen. Imagination? I know I'd have been capable of imagining such a story. Reality? If so, who was I? The first woman, the little girl, the man, the baby or the french woman?

What must I gather from these images if they were real?

Date unknown - Second visit in a past life

I write these memories long after having visited the past. Apparently, I had forgotten to jot it down. Luckily, it wasn't as lengthy as the first visit.

In this, I stood in a clearing before a house on fire. It was a simple, one-story house built from round logs. On the right hand side there was a small barn attached to the house.

No matter how much I tried to force myself to enter the house, it didn't work. Just before I was ripped out of the images, I felt a gust of heat, felt my skin burning, my lungs constricting and I was able to catch a glimpse of the inside of the house. It was a kitchen, though the details were fuzzy.

I do remember however seeing a calendar turned onto the November page. But I don't remember it being cold or having snow outside when I stood in the clearing.