My name is Violet - most of the time. Right now, at this time in the year 2008, in this hospital room, strapped down to this guerney, my name is Violet. Today, I am a woman who was born in the early 1950's on a river in the province of Ontario, in the country of Canada.  Tomorrow I could be anybody.  Where I was born could be any body's guess.

Several people in lab coats come into the room and stare at me. All of them. All together. Staring at me.  I hate it when they do that. Their faces begin to melt like rubber masks that have been exposed to great heat. I hate that even worse.

I begin to scream, and scream and scream . One of the melting blobs puts an evil smelling cloth over my entire face. For awhile, I sleep. When I wake up, I am somewhere else. I am some one else.

I am young. Preteen, I think. It is November of 1963 in a 100 year old one roomed  stone school house out in the country. The teacher has the radio on, and it is being announce that the president of the United States has been shot. Dead.

I begin to scream and scream and scream.

RATE THIS CHAPTER!

Author Guidance for This Story

This is a story about a woman named violet, who is undergoing regression psycho therapy by means of hypnotism. She is on a journey into her own past, present and future. Her name, personality, even her gender may change as she is being forced to remember things that she just doesn't want to remember. There is government, possibly RCMP involvement, trying to get at the truth of something she may or may not have witnessed. The only hard and fast rule, is that her basal personality is a woman named violet, who is under restraint in some sort of institution. She has amazing mental abilities that evil forces are trying to exploit, and there are more like her out there.

updated Jan 10, 2009 by moonwalker