Night walker

This was a tough regression. Everything about it was so slow and dragging. Everything about this life was exhausting for Katriona. The first part happened when she was 12. She was sold to Shona in exchange for an unpaid debt, and was put to work in a brothel. I get the feeling it was a fairly specialised niche dealing only with young girls, but there was no hope of it ending so I presume it wasn't illegal. Shona was fairly cruel although it doesn't show through much, in the regression I felt a real underlying fear of her. Anyway this is Katriona.

Sometimes I want to write. Sometimes I just want to write for the sake of having something to write. I write because It's who I am, it's what I do best, I create magic from symbols, I create meaning from marks on the parchment. It's what I do, It's who I am. But that's not enough is it. It's not enough to be one person living their life, fulfilling a dream, people always want more. Shona is always punishing me for not taking care of myself. "Who will want a girl with all the ink on their hands. You look like a filthy whore". Then on her kinder days I get "That's not good enough Katriona. That's not what a lady does. Have a little grace Katriona. Be more refined". Refined, like that ever has any meaning in this world, this dirty, infested world where the streets are littered with the poor slowly dying in the streets. Slowly rotting from the inside out, with nothing but a few mangy flea ridden dogs to keep them company. She's deluded, living a fantasy more magical than anything I could create. Refined! The look on these men's faces if they ever found a truly refined lady here. They'd be appauled, outraged, the biggest scandal London has ever seen.

No I'm not refined, and I have no problem with that. I'm here to serve a purpose. Entertainment. For a few brief moments I let these men forget that they are poor, stinking peeniless beggars. I let them breathe their stale ale fumes on me and I lie quiet. I close my eyes and I disappear to a land filled with Dragons and Minotaurs and I wait for them to leave.


Some years later



I'm tired, I've had enough and I just want it to stop. I don't have the will to keep struggling. I just want to go to sleep for a very very long time. Sleep is good, Sleep is quiet and whatever happens doesn't concern me. They tell me I'm old now, I'm worn out and useless. I'm 16 years old and I've outlived my usefulness. The other girls I knew when I first came here are all gone now. At first I didn't know where they went but now I'm pretty sure they are dead. I lasted well I should be proud of that but I don't have the strength for pride. Shona says it's time to go so I'll go, I don't know where but I have no other option. It's really cold. the few scraps of tattered lace that I have left do nothing to keep out the rain. I walk down by the river. I hear a lot of people find shelter there. I settle down among the reeds and graases and finally get some sleep.

Most of the Girls Katriona Knew were either killed during sex or they died from a sexual disease. Part of me thinks that Katriona may have caught something and that's why she was sent out. The lack of energy and the whole slow, plodding pace she spoke at hinted that there was something taking her health. She certainly didn't have the same resilience or attitude at 16 that she had at 12. Not the nicest regression I've ever had.

Prisoner of War

In this regression I was a Japanese Soldier. I'm not going to talk to much about it right now, I think this one is better to just jump right into. I was male in my early twenties.

I was on a boat, looking out over the water. Suddenly I heard a commotion behind me. I recognised the voice and turned around. It was my brother. He was shouting at the deck hands and brandishing his sword. Demanding to be let onboard. I nodded to the workers and they let him through. He stormed up to me he was angry at me. I tried to stay calm, I loved my brother, we had fought side by side for years now and I owed my life to him many times over. I knew this arguement was coming but I had hoped to avoid it none the less.

He called me a coward and that hurt, it felt like he had reached inside me and ripped my heart out. He was yelling things at me like how I had shamed my family, betrayed my village. I didn't know what to say to him so I kept quiet. I know any words I uttered would only hurt him further. Apologising would have been for my benefit and would bring no comfort to him. He started pushing me, hoping to get a reaction I'd guess. It hurt me almost more than I could bear to see the disappointment in his face but I couldn't give him what he wanted. He wanted me to stay and fight, to be a proper man and protect our village, but I was tired of it all. I was tired of the hatred and the bloodshed. I wanted to be a monk. I wanted to travel the world and write down our legends, I wanted to learn and teach. I was never made to be a soldier and we both knew that deep down.

I looked at him again and he looked panicked. I looked around to see why he was so afraid, the boat was moving. He was trapped onboard. He began shouting again at anyone he could find. I knew why he was scared. People would think he was a deserter too. They would think that he was a coward and run away just like I had. He would be a shame on our family just like I was. This isn't what I wanted. I knew how hard it was to leave everything behind but I had made my choice. This choice was being forced on him and it wasn't right. I went to him, wanting to comfort him in some way. I touched his shoulder and he spun on me. He looked at me and froze. His hand was still on the handle of his blade. Except it was almost touching my tunic. His blade had pierced me all the way through. I fell onto the deck of the boat. It took me a long time to die and all the time My brother stayed with me crying. I was at peace when death finally came.

After this one I spent a long time wondering about my then brother. What happened to him, did he ever make it home. Did he live the rest of his life as a nomad or had he choosen the path that I had wanted. A lot of times in my life now I feel responsible for the choices people make and I think a lot of that comes from this life. I tend to take responsibility for people in a similiar way to which my brother took responsibility for me. I wasn't a coward in this life. I wasn't afraid to fight like he thought, I just wanted another life. I calmer and more peaceful life. One of the more interesting things I learned from this regression is that I didn't need to speak Japanese. I just knew what we were talking about, almost as if it had been translated into English. It kinda makes sense if you think about it.

My cave woman days

So it turns out that not all of my regressions require a formal hypnotic induction session. This is one of these times.

This regression happened one night when it was dark windy and rainy. I was lying in bed listening to the sound of the rain as it hammered against my window. Then before I was really aware of what was happening I was somewhere else.

I found myself in a cave. The walls were rough, jaggy stone covered in green slime. There was an opening just in front of me, I crept forward and looked out the opening. The sky was a purple colour and the clouds were racing past so fast, faster than I've ever seen clouds move before. In front of me was water, black threatening water capped of with a white head of foam. The waves were loud. So loud that it was hurting my head. It looked like they were trying to go in every direction at the same time. I was scared, I knew I had to get out of this tiny cave. I tried to grab on to the outside of the cave but the walls were so slippery. I wanted to climb up the rock face but I just couldn't get a grip on anything. I came back inside and sat down huddled against the back wall. I couldn't swim and even if I could I don't think anyone could have swam through the rough water.

The water from the sea started to spray in through the opening in small cave. The cold icy shards made my skin ache everytime it touched me. The water was getting higher, I could feel it. There was no point in shouting, I knew no one was around, and even if they were they weren't going to waste the time helping a person like me. As the water climbed higher up the cliff face the waves slammed into the cave knocking me hard back against the sharp rocks behind me. The rocks tore up the skin on my back and arms and the sea salt punished me further as it soaked into my wounds. At one point a large wave came in and knocked my face hard against the wall. Something happened to my eye. I couldn't see out of it and there was blood seeping out from under my fingers as I held my hand to my face. My forehead was cut pretty badly too and there was a pounding pain in my head. Eventually I slipped into sleep.

Normally my regressions are quite calm, even when I see myself dying I know that it's not happening to me now and that everything is going to be ok. This is the only regression I've experienced where I was panicked. I think that it was because I wasn't prepared for it.

There are always several things that you just "know" about yourself while you are being regressed and a couple of these showed up for me. One of them was that people thought of me as a "scourge" they didn't want me around. I scared them for whatever reason. The cave had been created by the people who put me into it. It was used as a means to punish criminals, murderers mostly. It was cheaper than hanging.

I'm pretty sure that I had fractured my skull when the last wave hit me. I know if it hadn't happened that way eventually the water would have filled up the cave and I would have drowned. If I had tried to swim in all likelihood I'd have been crushed against the rocks anyway. If I had climbed to the top "they" would have been waiting for me. It was really a pretty effective way to execute someone.

I have no idea what time this life was based in. There were no people around me and I was dressed in something resembling a burlap sack. My guess is that this is what all prisoners wore. I don't think it was too long ago because the people were obviously advanced enough to create the hole on the cliff face and find some way to get me down there.

King Arthurian Times

I lived in a fairly large castle. I wasn't royalty but my family did own the lands that we lived on and the lands that our people lived on. My family was nobility. My parents were Lord and Lady of the surrounding area. We were considered very wealthy by the standards of the time. I can remember that there was a lot of trouble at the time. We'd hear news about poor people starving and peasants rebelling. We never had trouble like that though. My family took care of the people around us and the people were happy to be ruled by us.

My parents had died. I was being raised by the serving ladies of the castle. I was about 8 years old at my death. I had an older brother. He was about 10 years older than me. He was known as the protector of the area. The people loved him because he and his soldiers kept the trouble away from our doors.

One day he went out to battle and didn't survive. I can remember the soldiers coming back. I heard people crying which was unusual because they usually cheered when the soldiers came back. They were crowding round a horse that was dragging something on the ground behind it. I wasn't quite sure what it was. I was short and couldn't see much out of the tiny windows in the castle walls. I ran down into the courtyard and people were trying to pull me back so that I couldn't see. One of the older generals came over to me and lifted me up. He carried me over to the horse and on the ground I looked at the the thing It was dragging. It was logs tied together by something and on it was the body of my brother. He looked like he had been gutted like a pig. The was a huge gash from his chest down his stomach. Then they took his body away. I'm guessing they took him to be buried but I never saw.

A few days later my brother's enemies appeared at our castle. They came at night and attacked while we were asleep. Someone came into my room and dragged me down to the courtyard. They stood in the centre of the courtyard and held me up. I heard someone scream that finally they had reached the last of the line. The soldiers attacked me, beat me up badly. I was screaming for them to stop but they just laughed at me. After that they raped me. One after the other. That was the last thing I remembered. I died somewhere during the rape.

During this regression I knew that I had lived a fairly happy life. I had these memories when I met a person in my current life. That person played the part of my brother in this medieval life. I've called this King Arthurian times because that was the first thing that came into my head after the memories. It has nothing to do with King Arthur or the round table legends. It felt like it was set around that time though. There were lots of knights, castles and fair maidens. Although the ones I saw weren't as pretty or as well dressed as you see in the movies.

Stella Johnson

I don't remember much about Stella. She was my first regression and so far she has been the only name I've remembered. I'm hoping to discover more about her.

Stella lived in the late 1800's. She was born in England and was a very wealth socialite. She died fairly young at the age of 36.

Kelehwah

I've waited a long time to upload this memory. It's a strange one that makes me feel oddly emotional.

I was about 8 years old when I died. I was Native American. My father was leader of the tribe. My name was Kelehwah. I'm not sure if that was how it was spelt but that's how it sounded (Keel-eh-wah). We didn't do much writing so I never saw it written down. Anyway here goes.

I was young when I died. About 7 years old I'd guess. Before my death my life had been happy. As well as my father I had a loving mother and an older sister. I can remember a battle. White men had arrived with guns. A lot of tribes were being wiped out. We were all pretty afraid. People tried to hide what they were feeling from me but there was a sense in the air that something bad was happening.

I remember my father telling me that there was nothing to be afraid off. Life was full of love and peace and promise. That whatever happened the Great Mother Earth surrounded and protected us at all times. He explained that some people didn't respect the Great Mother. They took from the earth without thinking. I remember asking if those people would be punished and I was told no. Eventually people would realise what had gone wrong and the balance would be adressed. Living life wasn't about being punished he explained. He told me that the white people had lost their way. They had forgotten their truth and there was a great emptiness inside them. He explained that they tried to fill this emptiness with things but the soul didn't need things. As long as they tried to make themselves feel better by owning more they could never be complete.

A few weeks after that the men rode off towards a battle. My father joined with other tribe leaders to face the great threat. I noticed that my sister had gone and i left the village to try and find her. I followed her tracks to a large field. The field was soaked red with blood. Men lay everywhere dead and mutilated. The smell in the air was strange. there was the sweetest smell of the grass, yet it was heavy with the metallic scentof blood. I looked around the field trying to find my sister. Some men had had the tops of their heads cut off. Others had holes in their bodies. I eventually found my sister, she was lying dead beside my father. I was over come with grief and sat on the body grass beside them for days. Never moving. I eventually drifted off to sleep and never woke up.

This was an interesting memory for me. There are a lot of things that I still don't understand. i don't know much about Native American history so if any of you can explain these things then please do. I understand that most of the bodies were shot. I guess that places it in a time when the pilgrims first descended upon America. I don't know anything about gun history but maybe that would help predict the date.

I don't understand why some of the bodies had been scalped though. I had always believed that Scalping was an Indian tradition. Does anyone know if the white people had adopted this practice at anytime? Maybe the tribes had turned on each other at the battle? I believe that I died of starvation. I stayed with the bodies of my family and couldn't leave. I have no memory of soldiers coming back to the battlefield. It was very warm and I believe that I slipped into unconsciousness caused by dehydration and never awoke. I suppose that there are worse ways to go.