By Steve Seymour
I remember parts of previous lives as if they were yesterday. For those that doubt me and think this is just a dream or an illusion I say to you I am certain – I have no doubt what-so-ever. My memory has been with me since before birth.
Furthest back memories.
I’m living and working in a desert city. I’m not sure where in the world, I don’t think that mattered. My task was maintaining water channels, walls, ditches and paths. I remember talk and tales of troubles in a distant town by the sea and then that town falling to an unknown enemy with a seemingly supernatural power.
A weapon that would turn sane people mindless, forget who they were and become like empty vessels, that acted like robots. I remember that strange unknown enemy getting closer and closer to our town and people being evacuated to the hills. But many of us staying to fight, not truly believing the outrageous stories of the strange enemy with the power to turn people mad. When they did finally arrive – it was true, they had some ray of madness creating sound and light that made people lose their minds completely.
The machine was followed by a mass of our own kind, that had been turned against us by the madness machine, and our own people were now fighting against us alongside the strange enemy, not knowing who we were or even remembering who they were.
War and fighting was unknown and we had no idea what to expect. When it came to the actual battle, the fight was over very quickly. It was hopeless, we had no chance. We couldn’t attack our mindless friends from the far off town by thesea. We had sticks, rocks and shovels against them – but these poor mindless men couldn’t remember who they were.
It was hopeless. Life as we knew it was over for a thousand years or more and as the end came we were making plans telepathically for thousands of years in the future. We chose to die that day, rather than be changed into mindless slaves.
Estimated age at death 27
I think there is at least one other life in here at this point, but I don’t remember much about it. It was in the forest/jungle. I believe it was the happiest of all lives anyone could have. I remember later asking if I could return, but being told if I did I would never bother to come back? (back to the place between lives)
In my latest 2 lives some parts seem intermixed and I can’t separate them clearly to be sure which parts belong to which lives except for my deaths. So some details may be swapped.
Life, last but one.
A house with a cobbled court yard and geese. I remember playing in the yard when I was young and if Iwas naughty being threatened with the “goosetin”.
The “goosetin” has stayed with me into this life and I used to say it when I was just young enough to speak. I had nightmares about the “goosetin” upto the age of about 4. I now remember what the “goose tin” was. It was a tray that was put under a hanging goose after they’d killed it and then cut its throat to drain the blood out. No wonder it gave me nightmares when I was little. I don’t think the goose was for us, I think it was for the people in the “big house”. I think my mother worked for the house.
I think both lives started off very similar and that’s why I can’t quite put all the bits in order. In one, I lived in a small room attached to a courtyard which was in the grounds of a bigger house, and the other was a tiny cottage in a woodland.
When I was old enough to work, 7 or 8 I believe, I had to stand and wait against a wall at the bottom of some steps. An older girl aged about 12 or 13 was “in charge”. She used to give out messages to the kid on the top step, who would then have to run and deliver the message somewhere in the town.
The messages came from a dark room at the top of the steps, from a big fat man that sat behind a desk that we hardly ever saw. When the kid on the top stair ran off, we’d all move up a step and wait for the next message. We got paid by the person we deliver the message to. As time went on and I got older it was possible to start higher up the stairs and the younger kids started at the bottom, the older kids got to know and pick the better jobs.
Only “special” kids got to go through the door into the room with the fat man behind the desk that wrote the messages. When I got to about 12 I remember being told I could collect the messages from the fat man and give them out to the kids on the stair. I could be in charge of the kids and hand out the messages but I’d have to be “nice” to that horrible creepy fat man. I didn’t like that idea and ran away. I told the blacksmith and that caused problems. The fat man got into serious trouble and had to leave. It seemed that no one liked the fat man but most were scared of him. I think he was in charge of the town, I’m not sure. He had lots of books and used to write in a big book. It seemed that’s all he did. After that, I then got a job helping the blacksmith. I had to fetch water, pump bellows and help out generally around the place.
The blacksmith was a popular man and I got to know a lot of people and listen to “secrets”. The blacksmith was the man people came to when they had problems with “officials”. That ended up getting the blacksmith taken away. I think he was plotting with others against the rulers of the day. He never came back and I had to do bits of blacksmithing, until one day I was attacked and stabbed by others looking for the blacksmith believing I was him – or simply because I knew him.
Estimated age at death 24.
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