David's Past Lives - Part 9

Past Lives is a Meme which features installments from bloggers around the world writing creative stories about past lives, even possibly their own past lives!

Our story starts with a fictional Australian called David. As a last ditch effort trying to resolve his debilitating phobias, he goes through Past Life Regression (PLR) therapy. Join us as we follow David’s experiences through different times and continents.

If you are just joining us, please read Part 1 of the story and follow the links at the end of each segment to learn David's progress so far. Please note that you will be traveling to different blogs as each author adds to the evolution of David's journey. (Our links are listed on the left side of this blog)

Hey, you’re hurting me. Oh. My head! I’m dizzy. I can’t hear a sound and funny enough I can still hear myself think. It’s so hot. This water running down the back of my head seems boiled. It’s going to burn me. If only I could remove it with my hand. It’s thick burning water. Oh no! It’s blood and there’s Clara..

A week later and I was back in Dr. Harlowe's office. I was troubled in that I didn't think we'd found anything that worked to lessen my current issues. I said so to Dr. Harlowe.

"David, our fears and phobias are often built of tiny pieces. They don't come to us whole, in one fell swoop, but rather, they grow on us as we go from life to life until finally, they manifest themselves. And the only way to understand these issues is to go back and find each piece until we have a whole picture. Like a jigsaw puzzle. The individual pieces don't make sense until they are all fitted together."

The doctor turned down the lights and turned on the recording equipment.

"David, let's get ready."

I closed my eyes and found myself drifting, drifting ... drifting .. Dr Harlowe's voice coming from farther and farther away ... "David? ... D a v i d ? ... w h e r e a r e y o u?"

"I don't know. It's so dark. I .. I'm having trouble ... this mind ... so hard to grasp ... it seems scattered ... nothing I can grab onto ..."

"Don't lose me, David ... stay with my voice ... look around, David ... see if you can identify anything ... David? ... look around ..."

"I'm in ... an alley ... there's a ... large building ... it's so dark ... a warehouse ... wait ... there's a sign ... over the dock ... somehow ... I .. I know this place."

"Can you read the sign, David?"

"Yes ... There's a bulb ... over the sign ... but the top is crooked ... it shades part of the sign ... I did that ... make a shadow ... so I can hide ..."

"Why are you hiding, David?"

"I ... I don't know .. I can't hold on to ... this guy ..."

"Okay, David .. David ... read the sign, David."

"It's painted .. there's a big red heart on one side ... it says ...
Simon's Fine Cheeses ...
Goat Cheeses Our Specialty ... Look for the Red, Heart-Shaped container ...
Because "Our heart Is Good For Yours" ... FRontier 5-1000"

"Okay, David, go deeper .. grab on .."

"Not David ... Call me Kid. That's me, see? The Kid."

The Kid was waiting. Waiting in the darkened alley. Waiting for his next kill.
It was still hot from heat of the day, in that alley. And he had to keep to the shadows. The shadows he had created when he tilted the shade over the bulb. He did not want to be seen before he was ready to be seen.

He caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. He crouched down and swung his gun in that direction.

"Oh, hello Mister Rat. What're you doin' here, huh? Ya know, yer lucky, you are, Mister Rat. 'Cause if I didn't have to be real quiet, 'cause, you know, I gotta job to do here, I'd tap ya. Yeah, I'd tap ya, right between those beady little eyes. 'Cause I don't like rats, see? No kinda rats. Not rat rats. Not people rats. An' what I don't like don't live too long, see?"

The rat didn't move. He just stared at The Kid and wiggled his whiskers.

"Go on. Shoo. Get otta here. I got work to do, see? I don't need no audience. Sully's gonna be walkin' down this alley real soon now and I gotta put a couple in 'im, see? 'Cause the Boss says he's a rat ... yeah .. just like you. A Rat. Boss even gave me this gun to use - poked me in the ribs with it - shit that hurt. I'm gonna pay him back one of these days ... that hurt. He said Sully's been sayin' bad things about me. Says I'm bringin' the cops down on us. I ain't afraid of no cops. These Las Vegas cops are stupid. We own most of 'em anyway."

"Look rat, you better shoo, or you won't live thru '52. Heh, heh, heh, heh. D'you hear that? That rhymed. I'm a poet and don't know it. Damn, Sully, where the hell are you? I gotta pee. 20 years old and I got the bladder of an old man. I gotta quit drinkin' coffee."

He heard a footstep. He saw that a dark shape had entered the alley. He heard each footstep clearly. Every sense was on edge. He waited until Sully walked into the light. He stepped out of the shadows.

"Hey! Sully. G'nite." BAM BAM BAM.
Sully stood there.
"What the ..." BAM BAM BAM click click
Sully stood there, reached into his windbreaker and pulled out a nasty looking .45.
"Say goodbye, Kid." BLAM BLAM
The Kid felt the rounds slam into his chest. He sank to his knees as Sully slowly walked toward him.
"You were shootin' blanks, Kid. The Boss loaded that gun with blanks." Sully's voice was getting distant. There was a rushing sound, like a distant thunder in his ears.
The Kid looked down and saw blood bubbling out of two holes in his chest.
"You screwed up Kid. You brought the cops down on us. You're a liability, the Boss says. Take care of him, the Boss says. I always do what the Boss says. It's healthier that way."
The Kid looked at Sully. His lips moved, but no sound came out. He was having a hard time breathing. His head felt heavy and his vision was turning red.
"Why? You want to know 'Why'? Ya know, we coulda sent you to Chicago 'til the heat's off. If you was anybody else, we pro'bly would have. But not you. Because you're NUTS! You're a raving friggin' lunatic and the Boss says he can't trust ya. Just that simple."
The rushing sound in his ears, in his head, grew louder.
"G'bye, Kid. You coulda been a good one. But you're nuts. Just nuts."
Sully turned and started to walk away.
The Kid fell over on his side. Sully whirled around, gun finding it's target. But he saw no danger. The Kid was on his way out. He slowly walked away.

The Kid saw the rat moving toward him. He rolled onto his back. And the little rat thought in his little rat mind, "Go to hell."
The last thing The Kid felt was the whiskers in his ear and a nibble .....
And everything faded to black.... there was a moment of crystal clarity ... of sanity ... a moment in which he knew he had screwed it all up .. his life had gone completely wrong ... he wondered what was gonna happen next ...

.......... David’s next PLR Session will be online shortly. You’ll be traveling to Eric Schwee's Ruminations of a Small Town Mountain Boy. Part 10 will happen there.


Note: David's PLR story is purely fictional. If there are any bloggers in any part of the world who would like to participate in David's story by writing about a 'past life' in a time, place and country you are familiar with, please contact Lilly at lillyslife@gmail.com.

You will not believe how much fun it is writing these things. I absolutely LOVE writing dialog. Oh, scene setting is fun, but dialog is what I really love. I think I may have missed something along the way. Or maybe I'm just finding it. I don't know. I just know I love doing this.

One last piece of business. As you know (you DO know, don't you?) Grannie lives with us. 82 years old and provides more comedy than anyone her age really ought to. She's worse than Harry Caray used to be with the names of baseball players. Except that she does it to golfers, too. Except Tiger. Grannie LOVES Tiger. I think she would gladly have his children. Anyway, as it turns out lately, there's one thing about Grannie. Let's put it this way. If I EVER get to the point where every step I take sounds like somebody stepping on a whoopee cushion, just shoot me or light up my ass with a flamethrower. I'm just sayin'.