My Rabbit Painting Through My Six-Year-Old Eyes Rainbow

When I was young, from four to six years of age, I had a fear beyond what any average-young child should have had. This fear wasn’t normal by any sense of the word but I have to say, fear of any kind isn’t a good thing. My fear was blocked and hidden beneath layers of denial, blurry visions and the ever expansive darkness swirling around these memories.

My sense of smell though, to this day, has never forgotten that stench of fear that permeates the nostrils just before death. I still smell this odor to this day, especially if I am near a cemetery after a person has been buried. I call it – smelling their death. It’s slightly different from person to person and animal to animal. Once this odor is experienced, it never goes away.

I finally came to terms as an adult with the fact that my innocence was taken at a young age, from a blank and faceless foe, devoid of any human characteristics but still as ominous to this day as it was in my adolescence.

Death, took my innocence away.

I know what it’s like to watch something die, close up and personal, hearing the noise of anguish and panic that happens when something has no choice but to surrender to imminent death and the aggressive pursuit of a predator,  growling it’s warning before it seizes its prey.

Maybe just maybe, my memories are false and I realize that this can be the case but I must say, the reality of my memories, paints a very vivid picture. Now that the blocks are gone, I can see the moments in time that have become frozen and I can also come to terms with being a young victim of cruelty. Death is a cruel teacher, it’s never far away. This is what I remember so many years ago.

When a family pet dies, it’s a horrible feeling because they were a beloved part of a family. As a young child, this feeling of anguish is amplified tenfold because of how innocent their view of the world is.

By the age of ten, I wasn’t just desensitized, I was broken down to a point that I didn’t feel much except for that feeling of impending doom that every once in a while would take over me.

Here’s why.

I have memories of animals dying from the hands of unknown people. To this day, all I can see is big hands, the size of Hulks hands, holding baby animals. I just see from the elbow down … not even clothes or skin color but more so just hands.

The cats or puppies were held from behind the neck but the little bunny rabbits were held by their long ears. They struggled and I struggled as I was being held in place, made to watch them … die. I’ll spare you the details on how but it was bloody and I had to hear the poor animals squeal and scream until their little bodies went limp. I would become just as limp, crying and feeling so responsible because I was told it was my fault.

If I closed my eyes instead of watching the animal die, they would kill another animal and tell me, it was my fault they killed it. I carried the weight of these little animals on my shoulders throughout my life. I was a guilt-ridden little girl and young woman up until I came to terms with what happened.

The best way to take away innocence is by making innocent eyes watch horrific acts of violence.

Let me back track.

To begin my story, me along with six or seven other kids were taken from a Catholic school we attended by men in military uniforms in a light blue bus. We would be driven to an underground facility. I vaguely remember a stench in the air; a smell like you would smell at a zoo.

Part of breaking our innocence was introducing us to failure. They brought about failure as a part of the training we went through by making us responsible for the baby animals or other animals dying. They were always going to kill them but we didn’t know that.

I couldn’t save the baby rabbits. I couldn’t help any of the baby animals they killed.

They would kill babies as a means to imprint onto us that innocence is easy to kill, we would be easy to kill but more importantly, they could kill or harm our parents if we told or said anything.

We were put up close, almost in harm’s way, from lions, tigers or other types of predators chained. They made us watch the seemingly starved animals kill their food. Usually, a live animal was dragged up to the chained and hungry cats. This is why Life of Pi is off limits for me, it brought back all the horrific memories. I cried for hours just watching a small portion of this movie. It was a horrendous trigger.

Fast forward to April of this year, 2017…

I saw a painting of bunny rabbits that I became infatuated with. It was only $30.00 so I decided to buy it.

The rabbits are eating peacefully and as I look at this painting, I feel peaceful. It’s a moment frozen in time just like my memories, with the obvious difference being nothing can hurt them.

For some reason, this painting is therapeutic for me. Maybe that’s strange for some people to understand but for me, it’s helping me heal from moments in time that in a way, I feel chained to.  The comforting thought for me is the bunny rabbits will be in that moment, painted forever alive and not even death can change that.


Sharing experience — Is it all True Series #428

From time to time – we share some of the more interesting experiences sent in by our readers. Here is one such story .

THE DREAM OF 689 c. 1986

I’ve always been a logical guy – never believing anything I hear, and only half of what I see. But there came a time when things started to change. In 1973 my father had a strange encounter. He awoke in the middle of the night to odd noises, and upon inspection, saw that a circular craft had appeared in the back yard. He went outside and was greeted by what he said were “people” (he made no reference to aliens or beings beyond what we know as human). He claimed he was taken inside the craft and the “people” told him he would not live a long life on Earth. He told the “people” that he didn’t want to leave his family, but the visitors said he had no choice in the matter. My father never said much more about the incident and in 1983 he died of lung cancer at the age of 55. To his day, my mother believes he dreamt the encounter with the “people” and was just sleepwalking. But my dad was never known to sleepwalk, and to add credence to his story was the circular imprint left in the backyard which I remember remained for days. His being told “not a long life on Earth” has since intrigued me, and several years later I began to have strange dreams about visitations from my dad and visions involving alien craft which led to a feeling that he had been recruited for something. The dreams are very vivid, profound, and most always in color (I rarely dream in color). The most vivid came to me in 1986. The following is what I dreamt.

I was attending a party. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, but the room was without windows or wall hangings, rather small and very crowed. No one looked familiar to me. I became claustrophobic and felt out of place. I had the urge to poop so I made my way through the crowd to the only door I could see and entered a bathroom. The room was large. Larger than the party room. The commode was bright chrome and so large that I had to set myself precariously on it to keep my balance. As I finished my business, a huge entryway opened to the side revealing an even larger room, completely white, filled with machine-like gadgets sitting on cubical stand tables. The machines were unrecognizable to me but looked oddly antique in design. The room was very bright and had a giant window to the far end revealing a brilliant blue sky. Outside, strange looking birds of considerable size with multi-colored bills and feathers were swooping toward the glass and then upward into the air. They made no sound. Leaning slightly over and tinkering with one of the machines, dressed in pure white, was my father who had died a few years previous. He straightened, looked at me and smiled. I told him how happy I was to see him. He chuckled and said he had something to show me. He led me to one of the

machines which had a glass dome covering it with a small portal at its base. From this, an orange ticket about the size of a business card was produced with the number 689 printed on it. My father handed me the card saying nothing. I took the card and immediately turned it upside down to notice that it still read 689. I looked at my father and asked him if all this was merely a dream, or some vision of an alternate reality. He answered my question and then I awoke retaining a vivid memory of everything with the exception of his answer.

Bruce – ( any questions email the author directly)

Can Aliens be possessed – Is it all True Series #413

Blurry image of nightmarish alien beings.


The fear that comes from the very word, possession conjures up memories of just about every possession type movie ever made. How many people wake up each day worried that something will take over their body? Probably not many, because as humans, we don’t live life thinking in terms of our bodies being possessed or fear the unthinkable … body snatching. It’s a made for movie problem, not so much a real life problem. But what happens to those few who have experienced possession? Are they ever the same or does the relationship between body and soul have a whole new meaning?

The body is the vessel that contains so much of our life experience here on earth. The library within is a complete anthology of who we are and it contains our evolution as souls. Our bodies are truly the vessels of experience because in order to complete multiple life cycles, I believe we need multiple bodies. Some may argue this statement but it’s one that I have come to understand as the truth. The human experience is so much more and I am forever grateful to God, our architect of life for the endless opportunity to learn and grow throughout the ages.

With the alien abductions I have experienced, I have learned that with my brain’s ability to contain information, it also can be so manipulated. Reality versus implants becomes muddy and permeable to what I think the truth is. Maybe what I remembered really didn’t happen or it did on a larger scale. After all these lifetimes, I wonder why my brain and body are still so vulnerable. But I got to thinking, what of that of Aliens? Can they be possessed like humans and would any other entity really even want to take over such an adversarial foe? Would it even be the same or is it really an earth based condition and one that only humans experience.

In the scheme of things, does the evolution of a species play a part in their vulnerability? Why are humans specific to earth plagued problems that come with the deluge of experiments, abductions and the subjugation of fallacious rule? Do Aliens experience what we do in their own communities or do they have an entirely different type of dynamics within their communities that places them in a different realm?

Do the various entities have procedures that dictate who they conquer, harass or manipulate? How is it, that mankind can be possessed and yet we never hear of Aliens such as Greys, Reptilian or the Tall Whites that succumb to the same problem? Do dark entities know instinctively who to manipulate and subjugate? If it happens, it’s a well kept secret at least from a human standpoint.

Wouldn’t it make sense to possess a more powerful species? Perhaps this is a dark secret that dark entities don’t want us to know about. With Aliens highly evolved minds, are they impervious to attacks and possession?

With our emotional strengths and weaknesses, we can overcome any adversity and yet call to ourselves the very darkness that we so detest by one emotion that serves no one, it’s called fear. It can blanket every aspect of a person’s day or night, taking over the sanity of their lives, creating a perilous existence. Fear seems to be the one thing that human beings carry within them that other species don’t. If fear is our Achilles heel, what would be so for other species? I really don’t think that we are so inferior as a species that we are the only ones being attacked and tormented by malevolent creatures. But I must admit, when I was in the company of Greys, it never entered my mind to ask this question. It wasn’t even on the back-burner for future encounters.

Can the idea of people following their religions be a beacon, that invisible marker that attracts these dark creatures? Religions in their many traditions tend to become the mediaries between humans and their divinity. The unfortunate consequence of letting someone else tell us what God wants us to know, is that it seats us at a disadvantage. Sometimes religion creates a disproportionate echelon that places people at the very bottom or more to the point leading them to believe that is their rightful place.

Adding to this question, I haven’t really heard of a Sasquatch, Dogman or other Cryptids becoming possessed but maybe this is because the archaic stories of old have somehow been lost through the forests of time, along with the creatures of old. Interestingly enough, with the paranormal activity connected to abductions, I wonder if the ethereal world beyond the veil has more to it than we can ever fathom. Maybe Aliens don’t become possessed because they are a part of the possession itself. So the question then becomes, who is worse, the demon or the Alien?