I have recalled pieces of this life at least six times since my first memory of it. This account will be of that first memory. It was spontaneous and came to me in meditation quite unexpectedly.
At first I saw myself. I was a small child. I was maybe six or seven years old with long brown hair. The image I got in my mind looked like that of a wild child. I was wearing animal skin-type clothing that was short sleeved and dirty with holes and worn spots in it. My hair was long and knotted like it had never seen a comb. My face was dirty and I looked like I had been crying. I asked the questions where and when. I got Romania and the year 80AD.
As I looked more closely at the life I saw where I was standing. Around me I saw small fires smoldering. It looked like they were the remains of houses. I could see bodies of men, women and children lying here and there. They had been brutally killed. Most had bloody heads and some had no head at all.
The emotion with the scene was one of complete grief and desperation and finally hopelessness.
When I wondered why, I knew that a rival clan had attacked us and killed everyone except me and my baby brother. When I wondered where my brother was, I knew he had later died and that I was left alone. With that knowledge I then wondered what happened next.
With that thought it was as if I skipped years and flew forward in time. I found myself sitting by a campfire. I was a bit older, maybe 14. I knew I had been allowed to live with another clan. They had taken pity on me when they found me in a condition of near starvation, still hiding out near the scene of devastation that had been the only home I had ever known. Although they had taken me in, they treated me as a animal. I was forced to wait until all were done eating before I got any food, and even the dogs that ran wild around the outskirts of camp often got more food than I. Where I was brought to in my life at this time was when I was separated from the main clan and was with two older men, who also mistreated me. We were all sitting around a fire and they were laughing and carrying on about something but I paid no attention. I was in a state of near psychosis. I had lost all hope in humanity. I had been raped and used for sex since the age of 10. These men were doing with me as all the others had. I had no one who loved me. In fact, I could not remember what love felt like. As I sat there I contemplated death. I wanted to die. Then one of the men came at me for what I knew would only ultimately lead to sex. He took me away from the fire and the other man laughed. I went into a place inside myself and another me took over. The minute the man was distracted, I swiped his knife and in an instant slit his throat. He died quickly. I felt no remorse but was panicked and began to try and think of a way out. Before I could escape the other man came close. Upon seeing the scene he began to move toward me with the intent to kill me. Quickly I took action and jumped on his back. We struggled for a few moments. Somehow I managed to get my arms around him and I slit his throat. He gurgled and did not die quickly. I sat and watched until he was dead. It was at that point all humanity was gone from me and was replaced with someone whose only urge was to survive at all costs.
The feelings that overcame me were so intense that I wanted to deny that I was ever this woman. But the memories continued to come at me.
The next thing I remember is being in a very dense forest. My bed was at the base of a huge pine tree near the edge of a trading route, a dirt trail barely five or six feet wide. I knew I camped out here for a reason. I would attack people by jumping on top of them from my perch in a tree. In an instant I would slit their throat. Then I would take what I wanted of their things – usually food, water, clothing and any valuables I could find – and leave their body by the side of the trail. If they had a horse I would scare it away, but usually I attacked those who were alone and on foot.
I skipped forward again and found myself on a platform. My hands and legs were bound with rope and I could hear people sneering and yelling. I saw that the platform was strewn with food. In an instant I knew I was being executed. My arms and feet slowly being stretched apart until I was torn apart. I remember having no emotion at all. As I was pulled apart I felt myself leave my body. I did not experience any pain. I did not experience any emotion. It was as if my soul was dead.
In the later instances of recalling this life I was able to fill in the blanks with more information. In my youth I had experienced love. I had a family and a good life (or as good as life was in those days). The day my family was killed I was tending to daily life and my little brother was near me. I heard a call, which was the warning call, and knew I needed to hide. I took my brother and ran a distance from the camp and hid behind a tree. From there I heard more than saw my family hacked and dismembered and then burned. When the attackers were gone I took my brother down to the camp and called out, hoping someone would come for us. When no one came, I sat with my brother and waited. We waited for days. My brother, not more than a year old, cried a lot at first. Then eventually he stopped crying and just clung to me. One day he went to sleep and never woke up. I grieved for days. I blamed myself for his death. The amount of pain and guilt I felt was beyond anything I have experienced in this life. It felt like the death of a thousand loved ones to me. I can still see his little face and his brown hair. He was a lovely child and I had lost him, my only family. I was alone. The feeling was absolute aloneness.
I fell asleep there by my brother’s body. All hope had left me. When I awakened there was a man standing above me. He shouted something and I felt a pain in the side of my head and lost consciousness.
The next thing I remember was a woman’s face. Somehow I had been allowed to stay with a clan that had passed by where I was lying and had taken pity on me. The men in the clan did not like me, however. They viewed me as a nuisance, a draw on their resources, like a dog; a scoundrel. The woman who looked at me with such kindness and sympathy was not allowed to tend to my needs or help me. She had to do it in secret. I was left to myself for the most part. Because of my status in the clan, I was abused quite often. At first I was beaten for the smallest of things – just for being in the vicinity of someone who was in a bad mood. Then I was used for sex by the men in the clan who had lower status or were viewed as unfit for reproduction. The woman who helped me died at some point and was unable to help me. I had no one and I was no one. Thus, it made perfect sense to me why I became the person I became in that life.