The Ritualistic Torture. or……. How the Celestial Sound of God Saved My Life

 

I don’t really want to write this. But I got the prompting to do so. I can’t know who it serves but it isn’t easy to write.

Everyday that I was imprisoned went similar to the day before. There were some different events added in. Like when I was sent out in the middle of the night in the snow storms to walk around the perimeter of the property in the dark. Or I was kept up for some exercise in sleep deprivation. Otherwise, the days and nights were all the same.

I would wake up before dawn and wait for the footsteps above me dreading the order to get up be dressed before he was ready to go out side. I would have to walk behind him 30 feet as he walked in the woods. He would get angry if I looked at him so he would give me difficult tasks, if I did, to burn off his anger.

I would then be sent out into the woods to work all day and was not allowed to come in before he said I could eat. I was given a small bowl of rice but if I enjoyed eating it he would be angry. He stopped feeding me at the end because it irritated him that I enjoyed the bowl of rice. I would not be allowed back in the house until after sunset when he called for me. I would then go into my room in the basement and wait for him to bark orders to me.

“Feed Chewy” (my dog that was now his). “Shower!” Any longer that 2 minutes would make him angry. “Food!” I was allowed to run up the stairs and get my bowl of rice. “Sleep” I was not allowed to lay down before then. There would be consequences if I did.

When he did deviate from the routine, it was worse. The unpredictability of it was disconcerting. Sometimes he would not let me eat until I explained how I killed my own baby. (I unfortunately told him at one point that I had an abortion. The more horrific I made the details and embellished what a horrible person I was,the happier he was. This routine made him very pleased. The other thing he enjoyed doing was making me carry wood into the house after I had worked all day outside. I walked in a zombie like state. He watched me and was looking for signs of resistance. I gave him none.

The torture sessions started after I had my bowl of rice. He would come down eating his dinner in front of me. If he saw a reaction in me, he took it as a sign that there was evil in me. Then he rode me really hard.

He knew I was an energy healer. I had helped him out considerably before we got to the property. But something in his head told him that I was stealing from him and that HE was the powerful energy worker. He believed that I had stolen his gifts and abilities and that he was a member of a dynamic super race and I was equivalent to a fallen angel. He has so much hate in him and it was all directed at me.

There were people that he hated in his life and he thought that I had an energetic access to them. He wanted me to energetically destroy them and he wanted to see it manifest in the physical. That is what he was waiting for when he had me and why he kept me. He hated his mother, boss, brother, ex girlfriend and a few others. He was waiting for confirmation that the evil in the world was being wiped out through me energetically destroying all of them. I played along and pretend that they were getting destroyed energetically. I had created huge back stories of how they were being destroyed energetically.

I would just play along. I would not and could not do anything to harm them But he depended on this reality. He blamed me when he didn’t get any outward confirmation of their demise. That made him hate me more and more. He thought that I was harboring the evil that he thought they were, within. He thought by destroying me, he would be destroying them.

So in the “sessions” he made me role play; them in their worst pain. He thought I was tapping into it and he actually believed it. I had to act out a different horrific scenarios of the slow torturous death of each one of them. One was by poisoning, one was by being burned alive, one was going down in a plane crash. Each one was so taxing because I had to make it convincing and so I had to pour into it all he fervor and energy of one dying a torturous death over and over again.

One particular night, he was getting impatient with the amount of time it was to get evidence that one of these people had been destroyed. He made me act out how they were suffering in energy over and over again. We were at it for hours. He felt that I was going to die as well when these people died. He said I was a compilation of them all and that I would die when our work together was finished. He explained to me how easy it would to bury my body in the woods because no one missed me and no one would care. That part I believed. I still do. He would have gotten away with it if I had died there.

This one night, the role playing went on for what seemed like forever. I had to toggle between scenarios and different nemesis until I was about to drop. Yet he was not satisfied. As I did each person in his life, he would yell at them, “You’re going to die”. He did this with a huge list of people we had made scenarios for.

Suddenly I got dizzy and confused. Everything started to blur in me and swirl around. Suddenly I heard the most beautiful music within my head. I stopped the role playing looked up and said in the most innocent voice, “I hear music”.

He stopped. “Who said that?” He asked. He did not recognize it as any of the cast of characters.. “Who said that?” He demanded.

In that innocent voice, I said, “It is beautiful”

He stopped. His demeanor changed. He was kind to this voice. He said in a nurturing way, “You are going to live”

I was so relieved. I knew I would make it out alive because of this innocent aspect of me that he witnessed. He had a kindness and a soft heart for this voice that he heard. He would want to engage it. He built a whole back story around it. It was a retarded boy that was robbed of all that it had by the ruthless evil other components of me. He gave it the name Skippy. He would have me do jobs that Skippy would like.

After that, I knew I was going to live. He would come out to see me after that and look forward to seeing Skippy and get really angry if I was not in Skippy mode. I don’t know what that looked like but I tried real hard to be that. I tried to be good and innocent so that I could survive.

That is why when I returned to civilization, I thought I was a retarded boy. I can catch Skippy in my voice once and awhile and then I am left wondering what all did transpire in energy during that year of imprisonment. People accuse me of being defensive. I am certain this experience acerbated that. I also believe it is why I refuse to self reflective. It brings me back to those rituals. I will keep my defenses and quirky inconsistencies. I have come by them honestly. I am doing my best that I can to contribute my gifts and make amends for whatever transgressions I may have done. Please don’t expect me to do any more. I sincerely believe I am doing the best I can.

As for that inner music, I know it is the celestial sound of God. It comes in different tones. But the pure music is what I heard that day. Hearing it kept me alive. I think of it as God speaking to me and healing me in it’s native tongue. I have heard recently that others have heard that sound as well. As far as I am concerned, God intervened for me that night. Perhaps that is what he is doing for others when they hear that sound. I hope they appreciate it a little bit. It surly is a gift.

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