Gloria’s Helper
AUTOMATIC LETTER 62
Wednesday night
Dear Adam,
Forget the woman upstairs. I’m not wasting any more time on someone who doesn’t know that to survive she must get a permanent refuge. She’s getting enough sympathy from Gloria for three people – if I don’t get some sense for both of us – we’ll end up wondering how long we can take this before it drives us crazy. At least, we have you to help us and I’m going on to get rid of the past and Gloria can take care of current events.
I’m trying something new tonight – trying to solve problems through dreams and I’m going into a trance and dream state now – I’ll be back if it works.
Later
Gloria’s Helper again – I’m not sure that what I tried worked except that I’m able to say that the last dream I told you about had to do with a little girl whom I had heard sobbing after a beating and I left off on my recalling of that dream where I had seen her leaving with a shovel in her hand.
Well I followed her tonight – the same little girl – at first she didn’t see me – then when she did she ran, and I lost her (in the dream I mean) and I was in a state of shock – I found it hard to concentrate because it seemed important to find her and I felt grief at my loss and fear for her – these tumultuous waves of emotion created a feeling of panic that drove me on searching until I stopped for a brief rest. I sat on a rock and realized that I had no definite destination.
I was not facing the issue for that little girl’s survival – running in shear panic was the last thing that would save her – then suddenly I saw her – a distance away. She was coming out through a thick mounds of straw and I started to follow her again but this time slowly – she still carried the shovel. She talked to herself and said, “Here – if I want to see it – its right here.” Then she started digging and as she started I saw someone else watching her – the woman who had an extra eye in the middle of her forehead.
She motioned for me to be quiet by putting a finger across her mouth and we both watched the little girl digging then the shovel struck something – something that stopped the shovel’s penetration but didn’t seem to be hard as a rock – the little girl let go of the shovel and lowered herself to her knees and began digging with her hands like a child who plays in a sand pile, a moment later as she worked the soil, she pulled this object she had uncovered free from the earth that had covered it – it was a blanket. The little girl started to tremble and she stared at the blanket for a long time as if afraid to open it – but I guess she had come too far to turn back now. I got a lot closer and so did the woman with the third eye but she motioned again not to let my presence be known so I kept quiet. We saw the little girl with a shaking hand folding back one corner of the blanket. She could only stand to look at it for a second – already the flesh had begun to rot away and the skin was gone from the skull – the little girl dropped the tiny corpse back into its grave and she was shoving dirt back over it when she dug the dirt back lifted up the little bundle again and tenderly wrapped it up completely in the blanket. Then she put the dirt back and put rocks all around and on top of the mound – then she was sick to her stomach and her face all pale and her whole little body trembled as she started to walk away.
I was going to go to her – when the woman motioned me back and she started to follow the little girl – somehow I understood the woman was going to help her and I thought I must get to some shelter at once or I’m going to die and I woke myself up. I’m not quite awake yet but almost and I’m very tired – guess I’m not doing as much good at this as I thought – if it wasn’t for the fact that I want to help Gloria to live and I want to live too – I’d give it all up.
Don’t you give up or it’s all over – thank you for being there and God bless you.
Gloria’s Helper
AUTOMATIC LETTER 63
Thursday night
Dear Adam,
Strange dreams tonight. Saw the woman with an extra eye in the middle of her forehead and she said something kind of odd. She said, “Take a wall with a door. No one has ever been beyond that wall. Perhaps they never will. While the door remains closed anything you want can be on the other side – a country, or hell or any scene imaginable. There can be flowers or fires – grass, marble pillars, mountains, planets, cities beneath the sea, now do you see?” Gloria shook her head, “I’m trying very hard but I don’t know where this is leading to. The door’s been opened for me. I’ve seen behind it already.” “You’ve seen what has been some imagination and some truth,” replied the lady. “Now, you must see all the truth and it’s going to take work and time. You must write your dreams, no matter how silly they seem to you.” Then she ran off and I found myself in a fenced in circus ground. The Ferris wheel spun slowly, dazzling the eyes with its rows of colored lights. In fact every building, tent and caravan trailer was brightly lit. The lights, the music, the looks of people created a certain kind of magic I’d never expected. Music from a dozen sources was playing and to my utmost surprise those hundreds of casually dressed people streaming through the gates created great excitement with their anticipation of having a wonderful time.
Flushed parents held fast to the hands of children who wanted to run wild and explore and suddenly I remembered the great circus fire, I had been too with my brother in Connecticut where hundreds had died, and I remembered the little girl without a tombstone and glancing up, I saw the Pyramid Lady who said, “See it’s not always imagination behind the wall,” and she was gone again. Not much sense to this dream but there it is.
Gloria’s Helper
AUTOMATIC LETTER 64
Saturday night
Dear Adam,
I slept and found myself at a huge house. In the morning when I awoke I knew that the time of peace would be of short duration. But just there, it was still the time of enchantment; everything at that moment looked as if it had been freshly born. It was as if I were there at the beginning of all things, at the beginning of time of creation itself. My father would have recognized it as it was all unspoiled and innocent.
But I had a terrible presentiment that all here in this house was headed for destruction. But what could I, a stranger, an outsider ignorant of these people’s lives and histories do about it? Perhaps I was merely sent to witness this destruction, powerless to prevent it. Perhaps I was to share in the destruction? Before I could get an answer I woke up. I felt I’d had a sleepless night at being awoke too early. That’s all I remember of this night.
Gloria’s Helper
AUTOMATIC LETTER 65
Wednesday night
Dear Adam,
Well! Thought I’s never be able to write or talk to you like this again and look at me. I’m doing it even if I’m wobbling all over the place – now to go into a deeper trance and get settled down.
I’m feeling – from a nightmare – a love is flowing inside me, its part devotion, part pity, a feeling too complex to knock down into parts – love and loving the most wonderful of human qualities – all at once I’m aware that to help Gloria I have to go into a past that is painful, dredging up incidents and experiences she managed to put away, and keep locked up for years, because too many shadows from the past can spill into the present. Gloria was never able to lead her own life; there were too many dependencies – to many bonds involving other people – well to the nightmares part – here goes, but I’m glad that you understand. I’m not telling you of things that make sense or if I’m going to make sense at all, I can only tell of dreams remembered.
One of the bad dreams had to do with the “Supremes” (that’s right) at a funeral mass and a lot of people were standing in the snow – a priest was there hearing confessions nearby and “Amazing Grace” was the song repeated over and over – in the background (away from the gathering of people) – stood a little girl of about seven years old and she just watched but she had no coat on and no boots yet didn’t seem cold – the only time she reacted was when t
wo caskets were being lowered a little in the ground (this was after everyone else had left) she stayed, and I heard her say plainly, “I wonder what happened to them and what is going to happen now, and why am I by myself.”
Then the dream changes and the little girl is not by herself, she’s in a convent but no one will tell her why – she hears one of the sisters say to another, “She’ll’’ get over it, she will forget – it will be better that way.” The little girl did not forget – not while she was small, only when she became aware that she had too many bonds and burdens and to take care of this she had to forget or lose her mind and become a burden to everyone instead of helping but always in the back of her mind she was aware that something had happened that had to do with this day, no, with blades, and that someone had caused it to happen – someone evil had been the cause of it all.
There was something else in the nightmare Gloria had tonight and I’m afraid even now to talk of it – some incidents are best left undisturbed aren’t they? I’m restless as I’m remembering closets and attics and a little girl who saw some things one should never see – I can hear just as in the dream the sound of a chisel or something sharp chipping against a statue or something – I can smell turpentine and I see a figure turning toward me and the palm of my hands are soaked with sweat. I pick up a napkin and run it between my hands – it’s a dream – only a dream – of shapes and figurines – stupid me – I fell asleep in my own trance while writing of a dream but I’m tired so will continue our journey some other time – please stick with us – we need you, and we will help all we can – we’re going to shake ourselves free of everything that has held us prisoner to this painful past and its pains – so don’t you give up – even if it doesn’t make sense – someday it will! I’ll await your instructions okay?
As always – Gloria’s Helper
AUTOMATIC LETTER 66
Sunday night
Dear “Jolly Green Giant,”
You are valued all the time but never more so than when I can tell you about Gloria’s nightmares and know that you will understand. Like in tonight’s dream the “Other” told Gloria she was going to be a vegetable, so many times that I’m surprised she didn’t end up in the ground like a vegetable. We’ve got to cut it out, stop dreaming this frightening, senseless garbage.
A bad dream, something I have to push myself up from, raising my fists in the air, sitting upright with my eyes wide open. I’m thinking of the dream again – Gloria had been involved though I’m not sure how – it had something to do with masks and marbleized people. I remember now. Gloria’s eyes were covered by a pink mask and she took it off to show me the other eye that was in the middle of the two eyes – the three eyed marvel and something painful happened she was thrown into a large box by the “Other” – close it off now the dream – close it – close it right off, right away!
Same night – Sunday
Hi again,
I became very much afraid earlier tonight and had to leave off – I’m back now. I’m at the dream where the “Other” threw Gloria in a box – he found out she had dug up the grave of the little child, Joshua, and she couldn’t lie anymore – the bolted door – all the nightmare pain flows from down there – no tears though – quietly the little girl has accepted the fact that she had to take pain to keep the “Other” calm – she always lived with the knowledge that there were things to be done to keep the peace – the fact was always there – he expected her not to cry – not to scream – not to yell – but it’s so awful to step across a threshold and never know what you’re going to see – you can’t imagine like when white light comes to you and fragments of the puzzle burns clearer – it takes so much patience – suddenly I realize I want to cry, really cry but I don’t because tears always seem such a waste of energy, such an indulgence but there is pain in my heart – one pain I can’t stand – tears because the little girl is going to be hurt again very badly this time. I must stop this now – I’m sorry, really sorry to stop here but I just have to – please try to understand – there have been so many masks, so many lies, so many trapdoors that made the little girl fall through darkness and now she’s about to go into a place that will make her lost forever and I can’t stand this anymore. I have to stop now before it’s too late. I’m very sorry – please (if you can) help – please.
Gloria’s Helper
AUTOMATIC LETTER 67
Wednesday Night
Dear Adam,
A nightmare is terrifying because it can never be undone. A piece of fearful terror with loud screeching noise. My eyes opened then what? If the letter I wrote had torn while I was awake, I could have taped it but the tearing of dreams, fearful dreams are torn forever. Why? Because it was torn in a world in which we are unforgiven. I must have been sitting here for hours paralyzed by a fear of slaughter. Then I was alright but frightened by the vision of a huge, bald and bloody head suspended outside my bedroom window. Then I dreamed I was having sand dumped over me till I felt I was being buried alive. I yelled when it reached my head and awoke myself.
Gloria’s Helper
AUTOMATIC LETTER 68
Sunday night
Dear Adam,
The dream I wrote to you about the last time had Gloria floundering at a trapdoor that led to an attic – I warned her not to go there – but she did anyway. I’m not awake yet I can’t write the way I should – I told Gloria you’re obsessed with a dead woman, you have time to put the chair back – that house how I hated it – it trapped you just like the past of your life did – there must be a time to end this misery, to say enough to all this – time to bring out all the ghosts and lies then to rest. I’m afraid now – afraid for Gloria – afraid for me and yes afraid for he who guards us. (I went to get some water and changed pens).
I’m with the little girl in the attic now – it’s surprising there is a window in this attic – it’s small and very dirty. I grabbed some newspaper and clean the pane of glass to look through – I stare out for a while – I see a perfect view of the driveway and the gates beyond and the fading sunlight of a fall afternoon and I’m thinking “Why you could see anybody come to the house from here but no one could see you.” I feel a cold tingle at the nape of my neck – so people have hunches okay I can accept that – it’s normal but I don’t like the scary, horrifying feeling that I get thinking about the “Not quite normal” the “Cannot happen” to the “this did happen” – I feel that if I remember more it will plunge me into a world of a struggle that I cannot or will not understand. A place of violent things of violent happenings shadows so intricate I will never be able to find my way back through them and daylight.
That’s an outrageous coincidence that disturbs me – I can see something or someone from where I am and he’s coming down toward the gate and he’s carrying an axe in his hand and he has the look in his eyes of something not quite human. He looks no more alive than a zombie in a B grade horror movie but his walk is alive. I have to stop – I feel a jumble of emotions terror – frenzied fear – embarrassment at seeing such raw emotions on someone’s face and annoyance at myself for burdening someone like you with the telling of a stupid dream. It would be hard to look at you right now Adam, I have revealed more of myself and others to you than I ever have to anyone before and I don’t know if it even is of help.
Goodnight – Gloria’s Helper
AUTOMATIC LETTER 69
Monday night
Dear Adam,
Tonight, we went back to the attic but we quickly flashed our flashlight and found a drawstring in the attic for a light – when we pulled it, the attic was filled with a feeble glow – yellow like that hung beneath a length of rotted cord. I lost Gloria – but I’m here – I blink because the room is a lot larger than I thought – filled with all kinds of junk – stacks of old newspapers – cardboard boxes with layers of thick dust. I’m in the center of the attic surveying all this chaos. I’m wondering how everything that seemed so scary before could have happened – oh, yes
it was being able to see without someone seeing me and the shut locked window – the knowing that I’d better hide behind the large screen get way behind it because suddenly it was very important that I not be discovered. I’m not sure why but I know it’s very important.
I’m changing now – everything is changing in a way that frightens me – I’ve been a little girl believing that one day would be very much like the next with its ordinary pain and fears, defeats, victories that made life as usual now that web of ordinary is torn away. I hear someone downstairs – I sink further behind the screen – this time I will not glare defiantly at him, she, Gloria will but she won’t even say, “Ouch,” and afterwards she won’t be able to say like usual, “see, I told you, you couldn’t make me cry and it didn’t hurt and I really hate you!” Sometimes when she’s hurt bad she says that but not this time. Gloria where are you?
There are five people downstairs and I love all five except him who makes six people. There are scuffling sounds and curses and someone says, “You’re crazy, you can’t do this?” and a woman cries, “Where’s the little one,” and the bad person says, “Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting when she gets back and I have a surprise for her.” No one says anything because they all know I’m here and have a sore throat and didn’t go to school, but where is Gloria. More blows and shouting and scuffling sounds. I can’t make out the words I hear about hammer and axe and suddenly it’s quiet and I begin to wonder what is happening downstairs but I’m afraid to peek out of the attic to see but when I do – blood – blood – blood. Then I run to the attic window, he’s outside sitting on an oak tree stump – blood all over him and he’s waiting for Gloria.
Gloria Rising: A Story of Hope and Survival In Dark Evil Places Page 11