This is PART 4 of the account of David Taylor's Past Life Regression therapy. To start at the beginning go here.
For Part 2 go to Vikki North.
For Part 3 go to Lilly.
For Part 4 - Stay right where you are
For Part 5 go to Dina/ Deepwater Journal
For Part 6 go to Jules/ Arduousnincompoop (coming soon)
And now, at the close of the last session ....
Suddenly, I could hear a blood curdling scream and it took me some time to realise it was coming out of my own mouth. I couldn’t breathe. I was trapped. I felt like the life was being sucked from me. Our safe haven had become a choking prison of hell.
Then... complete blackness and a deathly silence.......
And so ended my second session. I was a shambles. And I felt ... relieved. And the Doctor said that what we did was good but he felt that there was more. We need more sessions, he said. And so, my third session found me wandering the streets of Sibiu, Romania, in the year 1282 .....
For many years I, Yacob Vobescu, have wandered the streets of this city. This dirty, smelly clump of mud pathways and stone hovels that passes for city in this part of the world.
I spit on this city! Pah!
Ah, but someday, someday, we'll go to Jerusalem! The New Jerusalem with streets paved in gold and marble palaces and wine flowing freely. Where I can sell my trinkets at a fair profit and no one will have to go hungry or dress in rags and we will rebuild the Temple. Ah, the Temple.
But I am an old man. This place holds me like a vise, like a prison. I have to sell my trinkets. To eat. To live. So little I make. So little.
The woman would have me rest. But, ach, she worries too much. She says I'm too thin. Who could get fat on her cooking? And yes, I have pains. In my feet I have pains. And who wouldn't? I am on my feet from the time the cock crows until long past sundown. And in my back. And in my shoulder where I carry my bag. The shoulder with the red heart - the mark I was born with. My lucky mark, God willing. The woman says I should rest. It's enough I sit on Sabbath. A day with no income. No few pennies to buy our bread. A small dollop of wine. But no. The woman says no. God says no. I spend the rest of the week making up for that one day.
But today, today will be a good day. Today, I will go to the castle. The Lord has many guests coming. Salem, the wine merchant, told me this. Ah, Salem, a good man and holy. He, too, keeps the Sabbath, but his daughter, she has that tayish, that goat, that goat that hates me. I don't like him very much either, I'll tell you. He butts me when he sees me, this goat. The goat is meshuginah. Simon, she calls him. Why such a good name for such a crazy goat?
I spit on that goat!! Ach. But what was I saying? Oh, yes ...
I will station myself next to the drawbridge over the stony moat. Right where it lets down. Business will be good. Salem tells me the Lord has ordered twelve casks of wine. Twelve! So many people must be coming. Business will be so good!
So now I wait. The crowds will come soon. I will soon have enough for a feast. Some good wine. Some lamb, even. The woman will be happy. Some new cloth maybe, to freshen her sash. Oh, and here comes Salem pulling his cart and his daughter walks alongside, such a good girl and such a help to her father. And that goat, the goat is coming and he sees me and he's coming at me, he's running at me, that meshuginah tayish, oh no, I am trapped I will fall I will fall to the rocks oh noooooo J E R U S A L E M ....
.......... David’s next PLR Session is online now. You’ll be traveling to Deepwater Journal. Part 5 is online 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 firstname.lastname@example.org.