I associate a lot of pain with and because of this: I don’t talk about it very often. It reminds me of my life now.. It’s as if I’m living the same lesson over again. I lived in the 1860’s in England as a woman named Sarah. My parents did not want me and so they left me with my aunt and uncle and they didn’t want me much either.. They emotionally abused me and I’m pretty sure they hired someone to kill me at one point. I was in love with a man named Matthew (most likely my cousin) who was in love with his sister Elizabeth and for this reason he was placed in an asylum by his domineering mother. I would often go on visits with his mother and sister.. I didn’t like going but I couldn’t bear to be away from him for too long. The asylum still haunts me to this day.. I’ll include a picture of one that looks similar if I can. It wasn’t big by any means, it was only two stories, but it wasn’t small either.
The carpets inside were this ugly color green. The patients rooms were upstairs and there wasn’t very many of them.. Only one patient was allowed to come out of their room to visit at a time. There was this large room with a few chairs and a couch for visiting purposes where we would sit with Matthew. I would stare at him often.. Upset by the way he was being treated and how he was always out of it because of the medicine they were giving him. It left him unable to walk and he could barely talk. I would sit and stare at him at him the whole time and would sometimes smile at me. This gave me some hope.. There was one visit where we were sitting in his room and his mother left to talk to the doctor. After she walked out, Elizabeth hugged and him spoke of how much she missed him. I sat there in silence and tried to listen in on what his mother was saying.. The visits became less frequent and I slowly slipped into psychosis.
His mother and I went to visit him one day and we were told we couldn’t see him nor could we go in his room. I found this suspicious and forced my way into his room only to find he was not in it. I was told that he died.. I lost and yelled at his mother about how it was her fault.. She told me it was for the best and tried to hug me. Elizabeth didn’t appear to be upset which confused me. I eventually killed myself by jumping off what I believe to have been the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland. I encountered the reincarnation of Matthew in this life and we shared memories. I was briefly confused about who I was because they shared a memory of Elizabeth that resonated with me so much I felt I could have been Elizabeth. I was told that he didn’t die.. Elizabeth broke him out. I had the memory of this and it took me a while before I realized this was a memory where I was in spirit and watching them escape.
I remember my afterlife experience.. It wasn’t a good one. I was shown flashes of my life and made to feel guilty about having committed suicide. I was told to make things right I had to come back and I did so reluctantly..
Jessica Clorine- Part 3