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Torture

“You can come out of the bathroom…”

I knew she could hear me, but she wasn’t immediately responding.

“I don’t know where I am,” she replied.

“Well, you’re in my home, obviously dead. I think I can help you.”

“Why do you think you can help me?”

“I’ve helped many like you.”

“What is that?”

Coming out of the bathroom, she pointed to my laptop.

“It’s a computer.”

She seemed confused.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I don’t remember everything.”

“You don’t have to remember everything, you can just tell me what you do remember.”

“I was locked up.”

“Do you know why?”

“No, they would only give me small amounts of food.”

“Did they do anything to you while you were locked up?”

“I don’t want to remember!”

She became emotional, but not exactly crying.

“Are you sure I’m dead?”

“I’m almost positive you’re dead. It must have been a long time ago if you don’t recognize my computer.”

“1946.”

“Soon after the war ended.”

“Yes, I was taken right at the end. I thought it was victory, but two women kidnapped me. I didn’t trust them.”

“How did they take you?”

She showed me an image of being physically assaulted with her mouth being covered. The two women restrained her.

“They wouldn’t tell me where they were taking me, they just told me to shut up.”

She continued, “They hurt me.”

She showed me an image of her being strapped to a table and…

The Child’s Mother

 

PART TWO OF THEY TOOK US

That next weekend, in the early morning hours on the first Sunday in spring, I woke up and felt a deceased woman roaming the house. Who was this? What did she want? I tossed and turned as I felt the woman continuing to roam the house.

It’s her. The mother of the little girl who was taken by the Gestapo.

I felt her presence closer as I acknowledged this information and I recognized who she was.

I promise first thing later when I wake up, I’ll listen. I promise.

I fell back asleep and at 6am, I quickly grabbed a cup of coffee and headed to my desk and computer.

“They made me give her away. I didn’t want to. They said it would be safer for everyone. I became a worker to hide myself too. I wanted to keep a low profile,” she spoke immediately.

“Then what happened?”

“I was found in three years. I was ashamed of what I did.”

“You were ashamed of giving away your daughter?”

“They told me she would be alright. That she would be safe.”

“But you died before she was found?”

“No, I didn’t…I was found. By the Czech police.”

“Then what happened?”

“They burned me.”

“When?”

“I lost track of time, but I heard about my daughter.”

She showed me an image of being passed a note while she was in what appeared to be a concentration camp.

“So this is why you need to find your daughter?”

“Yes, I need to know she survived.”

“What do you mean survived?”

“That they didn’t take her with them. The Nazis.”

“I’m confused. Again.”

“I heard stories where they took their spirits.”

The Speaker walked in with the little girl right then.

“Mommy!”

“How would she know it’s her mother?” I asked the Speaker.

“Photographs.”

“Thank you…” the mother said.

She held her daughter tight and began to carry her out. They did not hold hands; they held each other so tight as to never let go.

“Go in peace,” the Speaker said to the mother.

Both the little girl and mother walked into a light and moved on.

The Speaker started giving me information.

“You need to have a clear mind and be prepared for what’s coming.”

“When? So I can prepare.”

“Prepare now and they shall arrive.”

I remembered what I’d been told by a wise teacher some years ago: “Preparation is a state of mind.”

Reflecting on the previous information from Monika and then later her mother, I wanted to make the connections. Monika said she was Polish and Jewish. It sounded like the mother said the Czech police found her.

History shows many Jews fled to Czechoslovakia and Germany later invaded. Though the country resisted Hitler’s invasion, there were probably police siding with the Nazis or forced to side with them.

I searched online for any references to any Jewish folk stories around spirits being taken by dark-minded people. I couldn’t find anything at all. So I emailed a person I knew who was Jewish and her reply made sense to me.

My mom heard of stories in the Orthodox tradition, that when someone dies, there are different Rabbis that sit over the body for 24 hours to make sure that no negative entities enter the body to take their soul.  Otherwise, it is taught that negative entities can interfere with the soul going into the Light.

Onward and Forward!