Introduction, Aline Terpstra, 19 March 2021
This is part 3 of a collection of fragments of the life story of Esther. It is recommended to read at least parts of the first volume of fragments, to be able to place what is written below in a better way. The first testimony, about Nathalie and Lotte, shows us - besides all the horror - how friendships within the world of the cult are systematically destroyed. This is part of their strategy. A child in absolute inner loneliness is best moulded for cult purposes. The second testimony concerns a recently processed memory, triggered by the cult saying the programming number '66' to her. Esther tells how in an ingeniously malicious way the cult uses her most beautiful feelings (her love for her baby brother) to force the separation of a new personality part. Esther tells how this part is brought forward again at another time and trained through torture to perform a cult task, in this case creating inner chaos. In the final testimony, Esther tells of the unimaginable atrocities committed against her by a high-ranking person.
In the endnotes I sometimes give an explanation of what Esther writes, to make it easier for the reader to understand.
Esther's own story by Esther
Nathalie and I, Lotte and I
Alone. I think that word best describes the feeling I have about Nathalie. Everyone dies, falls away, runs away or can't be trusted. Alone is how everything started and how everything ends and in between there are millions of moments that deserve the same word. I can't do it anymore. Everything that the word alone contradicts I can't do it anymore. It hurts too much and the hope it brings every time is devastating as soon as it is proven that alone is still better. Alone is grip and certainty. It can't get any worse, alone is safe and secure. Alone.
She was lying there, on that bed, he was raping her and I was watching. I saw it when she came in, something was gone. The strength in her face was gone, like she knew she was going to die. She was crying and screaming and he was getting angrier and angrier. She wasn't thinking, she had lost herself. "Shut up" was all I could think. Keep still, we will die if you do not stop, but she did not even look at me, she was gone. Out of her body and out of her mind, she was dead. Even though she was still breathing and screaming, she was long gone.
I felt betrayed by her. You promised, I thought almost angrily and out loud, you promised to always do your best, be quiet, let what was going to happen happen happen. Only then might we have a chance to be together and talk for a moment, to feel connection for a moment, because she was the only one with whom I had ever really done that. And we had looked at each other and promised that we would stay together. If I didn't know anymore, she would tell me and I had promised the same. If it was too heavy I would make sure I got worse, then she could recover and she could recover for me too. It had worked a few times and we felt very strong. We won from them, while they were hurting us and beating us, we won, because we had a pact and they didn't know it. We outsmarted them because we could get them just so we could handle it and we stayed strong. We were smarter.
Where was that moment? Why don't you keep your promise? Why do you scream and shout and not even look at me, I want to help you. I can't say anything, then I can't help anymore, you have to look at me, only then I can give you strength, which I still have. But she wasn't looking. She had decided not to look at me. I felt rejected. She was hurting, he was hurting her terribly, but I am convinced that this was hurting her more. The promise she had made totally fell apart and I felt alone. I'm alone again. She's gone. She's gone, I'm alone again. The feeling that all your hopes have been wiped out again is murderous. Devastating. Totally destroying what you thought you had left. Alone.
They beat her up, but it doesn't help, she keeps resisting and screaming. Hold her, says the one who rapes her. I walk over to the bed and know how to do it. I crawl above her head, get down on my knees and hold her wrists above her head. She looks up at me. Her face is completely flushed with tears and her eyes are completely panicked and looking for help. But her searching, panicked eyes are empty and her soul is paralyzed. She can no longer see my help or grasp it. I can't give her the help I so desperately want to give her. She has given up, I know that look. The look I never, ever want to see again. I'm not like that. I don't give up and it hurts that she does. Alone. She leaves me alone.
I'm holding her wrists with all my might as a last resort, maybe it will help. Maybe it will wake her up and help her remember our pact again. She looks at me as I squeeze her and then she looks away. She falls silent and for a moment I think that what I'm doing is helping and that she's switching. Maybe a stronger part of her will take over and she'll be okay. She'll be back soon. For a moment, I feel hope. Not alone anymore. The hope that it will be okay again, like it has been okay so many times. But she remains silent and he continues. He doesn't become milder, he doesn't become less aggressive, he continues. When he's done, the two guards are allowed to go about their business. One with me and one with her and while I let everything happen I look at her, but she is still lying there like I held her. What a bag of salt, the man says while buttoning up his pants again.
They leave the room and I crawl back to her and start talking to her. Nathalie, why are you acting like this, what is it. She looks ahead with empty eyes. She blinks once and breathes, but she says nothing. Why don't you look, you have to help me, I say very selfishly, thinking of our agreement. Again she doesn't look up and again I feel very alone. She has really left me alone, she doesn't even bother anymore. I sit in a corner and almost fall asleep. She remains lying there unmoved all this time. It gets dark and they come back. We get a sip of water and I see that she wants it. She drinks, she gets her energy back, I think for a moment. But as soon as she stops drinking she lies down again and doesn't move anymore. I don't understand it at all. Now he comes to me, and the other two men that are there get permission to do what they want.
The main character lives it up, but I still don't understand what's so bad about him. It hurts, I definitely break down and he is sometimes aggressive, but not worse than some others. When I look to the side I see that the two men first both rape Nathalie and then put all kinds of things into her. They have fun when they put their gun in from below and they have fun when they put everything deep in her throat. She sometimes makes sounds, but she doesn't do much. I wonder how she does it. I gain admiration for her persistence and courage and regret the thoughts I had had before. Later, one of the men sticks that gun in from below again and then he shoots. I almost come loose from the bed as that heavy man almost makes me choke. He's still working on me, but stops for a moment at that sound. Nathalie makes a very weird sound and the men laugh. Hey slow down man says the main character. Yes, they say back. A man rapes her again and then he says, so it worked.
They walk away and when the main character is finished he says I have to wash myself and he feels Nathalie on the neck. I wonder why, but I don't dare ask anything. When I come back from the shower, she's gone. On the bed is a large pool of blood and when I look out the window a bag is thrown into the tailgate of a black car. I don't know where she is, I want to be with her, talk to her. Ask her what's going on, but she's nowhere to be found. When uncle 2 comes to get me, main character and he run to the car and I run after them. The main character says that this is it, and he opens the bag and I see Nathalie lying there. She is completely pale and I realize that she is dead. Uncle 2 says that you've done that nicely lady and he gives me a wink. All the blood runs out of my body, the ground sinks under me. I killed her. It's my fault. I was busy with myself. I'm alone. It's my fault, but I'm alone because of me.
That was 1989. I did have a support person in ordinary life, I was not completely alone, but she took care of me. She could help me, but I couldn't help her. It was a one-way street. Being friends is not a one-way street. Neither is selfishness. Being friends is not being alone, but I decide: from now on I will stay alone. I had the same agreement with Lotte. I had given up my child, but hers would continue to live. I would help protect it and she would help me if I needed it. When she wasn't there anymore, I would look after Lenie and do my best for her. We both knew what that meant.
It cost me my child, but hers was saved. Hers was far more likely then. She had been obedient. I was not. But I haven't kept my promise with her in a long time. She helped me once when I didn't bring someone, she said she would bring someone tomorrow. She picked up a boy who was used and then disappeared. She did that for me. He knew her face, not mine. He got hurt because of her, not me, she was at risk, not me because I didn't want to cooperate. I couldn't and I was busy not coming and coming. It didn't work. Living in two worlds is just not possible. But when the pills ran out, I had to go again and I did everything extra good, extra strong, to be credible. I saved her by hurting someone else terribly, until he died with the whip in the group. I can still hear the screaming. But we were safe. And now, now her child is dead because I'm not coming. Don't make up for it and pushed her aside because I kept going.
I broke my promise, failed to protect her child and lied. I've seen the hate in her eyes. The hate she has for me that will never leave my retina. The hate that is burned into every fiber of my body. Alone. She alone and I alone in 2 different worlds. Alone, without friendship and she alone without a child. My fault. I know how it feels to lose your child because someone else is so incredibly stubborn and thinks they are stronger. The opposite is always true. Yet your child is long dead by the time the other realizes it. It has no value, it is emptiness and pain.
I'm not going back. I'm not making it up. But the more I realize that I can not make up for it. Friendship is something destructive, friendship is made to destroy and hate each other, because it can not succeed. Impossible. Alone hurts so much and is so worthless, but alone is still the best. There can be 100th people around me people who are really sweet, who I love too but I will always be alone.
Childbirth attachment figure H., 6 years
H is giving birth in the front of the room. I'm sitting next to her. I look at the head coming out and I am surprised at the face H is making. She is clearly in pain, but with my age of 6 years I can see all kinds of things but I can't name them.I am worried about H. No one is helping her but they are making sounds, like they are humming. Everyone stands around and watches and does nothing.I see the hair and head going out and in between H's legs.I stare my eyes out. It's so big.
When the head doesn't go back, uncle 2 says I have to handle it and not drop it. The baby has to come in my hands and not on the ground. I take my task very seriously and have both my hands around the head and determined to catch it. It is warm and slippery and feels dirty, but when I have it in my hands, partly dropped on the ground but not noticed, I look at it and feel so much admiration. Uncle 2 cuts the cable, the umbilical cord. I think cable, it looks strange, but when it is loose I automatically pull it towards me. I cradle it in my arms just like my doll. I feel an enormous love rising up inside and I want to hold it and cherish it. I get the time to look at it and caress the cheeks of this little boy. I am aware of no evil, just super filled with warmth and love.
Jarel calls, you come here with the little one. He says with a sweet voice. I am proud and take it to Jarel, and only when I am close to him I feel fear. Give it, he says to me. I hand my baby brother into his hands and instinctively my stomach carries over. I feel nauseous, but I don't know why. He puts it on the altar and lets me watch. I walk away towards H., I know somewhere that I won't get him in my arms again. Wait a minute Jarel says, come back. Do you love this baby, he asks. I nod very much and hope to be able to hold him again. The hope rises like a mountain inside. He is for the highest king, he says. And pulls me in front of him. I stand there between the altar and him and look at my little baby brother who is crying very hard. It needs love, it's cold because cold thing, but I don't dare to take it. Jarel holds the knife above his belly and says I may give it to the most high. Everything you love must die, he says. That will make the Great King happy. Cut. I look at the boy and somewhere in there is feeling. I know I can't say no, I don't dare to, but everything in me stops me. Jarel takes my hand and together we cut open the belly. The baby's cry is immense and very loud and then he continues to cry mega, screaming. Here, taste it, Jarel says and he pushes my head towards the baby's belly and I lick up the blood. I click somewhere inside and feel different. I've become hard. The taste of blood turns me off and I go into robot mode.
Jarel takes the knife and cuts open the chest, after which the baby falls silent. He holds up the heart and everyone cheers. I get it in my hands and have to take it to H. H. looks at me angrily and takes the heart. I suddenly feel very far away from her, it hurts. She eats it and I look at it and don't understand. She is so cold and so unfeeling. I feel super alone and everything is confused. When I sit down next to her, on the side of the room, everything else goes by me. I am confused. I wanted to hold this sweet baby forever, but the feelings are so complex and many and overwhelming. I can't make sense of it all. It's too confusing and I'm left alone with that. Alone in the world.
When the service is over, a big man comes up to me. He looks sweet smiling. Later I learn that is HX. He takes me to the dark corner. The corner where the demons are always listening in and where it always feels very scary. The corner where I am also always very honest, because everything is seen and they always know everything already and keeping quiet can make sure I am not allowed to go home. HX gets down on his knees and looks at me very penetratingly. Where is your new boyfriend? I saw that you broke up, where is the loose piece? I feel a kind of bubble bubbling up and he says, there you are! Your name is 66, I'm going to call you soon, now go to sleep. Sabrina, move on, he says and she stands up and walks towards uncle 2 to go home.
A while later we are at the white house and HX comes in after I am v by another unknown man. I have to lie on the iron bed with my eyes closed. He says: 66 I command you to wake up and look at me. I see how my body is totally not mine and does what they want. I open my eyes and look at HX. Sober, without feeling. He says something and pushes the hose in my mouth. He can just reach the tap and opens it. As he lets the water run down the hose into my throat, he says 66, you are not drowning. You're using the feeling in your throat to mess up everything inside. You kick everything upside down. The closets. you turn over and make a mess. You're the mess. Then you wait. The tap goes off for a minute and I can breathe. I'm grateful for the breathing. I nearly got knocked out. When the waiting is over, he says, and the faucet comes on again and the water comes down my throat hard. When the wait is over they have cleaned everything up. Look, is everything tidy? He nods no. No not now, HX says, but when you do this and wait, everything will be neat again. You'll be making a mess again. Go ahead.... If he doesn't gag and gasp for air, the tap goes off again... I watch him from a distance and see what happens to the body. He comes back, I can see it in his eyes. HX says: Well done. That's how you do it over and over again, until there's no more cleaning up and then you can go back to sleep. He nods. Need to feel how it feels again. He nods yes and the faucet goes back on and I see it disappear, as if resting on the face but the arms and legs are completely stiffened and don't match the face. HX turns off the faucet. He looks and HX says, I order you to go to sleep until I call you by your name. The face is as relaxed as it can be again for a few seconds and then I'm back. I'm scared. I feel overwhelmed but don't know why.
Hey baby, you're a little wet, I'll dry you off. He rapes me with little feeling but a lot of physical violence. I lie there when he leaves and don't move. I am confused and have a sore stomach. Uncle 2 comes in and tells me to come with him. We go home. I can't puzzle, I'm confused.
The whole evening had been a party. They had drunk and laughed and whenever they wanted, had sex with us. I was tired and dozing off in a corner. C saw it and pulled me up by my tail. Come, with me, he says. While he holds my tail we walk through the hallway to his room and he puts me on the chair opposite his bed. Sit he says and I sit down. He goes to the bathroom and does his thing there. A moment later he comes back to the sleeping area only in his boxers and I feel another part shoot forward when he talks. She understands him, I only a little and he is very strict, so care must be taken. He tells me to put my legs up and put my feet on the chair and put my arms around my legs. He does it on the edge of his bed. Good, good, he says. I keep on understanding, but I am not sure.
In the meantime, he starts watching TV half sitting in his bed and I sort of sit in front of him with my legs wide open on a wooden chair and watch what he does. He zaps a bit and ignores me very much. I don't really know what to do, how and where to look and I feel mega insecure. After a while he suddenly looks at me and talks to me but I suddenly don't understand very well what he says. I feel a certain shiver go through me, a kind of premonition that is unpleasant, the surroundings seem to change. Then he gestures for me to come and I stand next to the bed at the height of his shoulders. He looks at me and pulls me into the bed, throwing me halfway down. He sits down on me, reaches up and gives me a huge dirty tongue kiss. Then he pushes my legs wide and has sex with me. It's not all very scary or unpleasant, what's worse is the atmosphere. A kind of huge unpleasant exciting atmosphere where you don't know what the next step could be. As if you have to be on your guard that he can strangle you at any moment or suddenly shoot you. But when he's done, I have to get back on the chair. He says short words and just points, but I know exactly what he means and sit back in the position as he orders. As I sit there I feel the sprema drain out of me and see it on the chair. After a while I sit in a kind of puddle which also sticks . Later in the night I play with it a bit. The pull that the sticky gives is sometimes nice because it is slightly painful. My skin pulls itself tight on sensitive spots and that is handy.
C falls asleep. I see how he becomes more and more relaxed and at one point his breathing becomes audible. I am impressed by the way this works. I've seen it so many times with grandpa and uncle 2, but everyone is different and it intrigues me. It is distracting. I start to feel my legs getting heavy. I had to widen them and hold on. With my feet on the chair, back bent and holding my legs with my arms and not moving. That works for a while, but now they are getting heavy. I also feel the wooden bars of the chair in the lower part of my back and my body is just tired and looking for support. Because I know C a little, I don't think about moving. I don't think about taking my hair out of my face, of which a tuft is itching against my nose. Even when I have the idea that there is a spider or other animal on my back, I do not dare to remove it or to rub my back to tickle it. I do not move, motionless, I remain seated on the chair and watch the man, who lies there contentedly asleep. Hoping that he will not wake up. Hoping that this will suddenly be over. If he wakes up he might be unpredictable again. If he is sleeping I need to maintain this attitude. I am puzzling out what I prefer and haven't figured it out yet.
My back and pelvis hurt. I have cooled down so much by now that I don't feel the cold, but I do feel the stiffness. I might not be able to move anymore and if I can, it will hurt. I already know that for sure. My joints feel frozen and I feel my bones in places I didn't know there were bones yet. My groin hurts from using my muscles to keep my legs from falling and my hips hurt from the cold. My back doesn't know what to do anymore and just sits there like a bent pin. Defying the pain. Somewhere, sometimes the pain gets really nice. Then it becomes so intense and so abundant and then I go with it. I hurt myself with it. As if I put my finger in the fireplace and keep it there just a little too long until the skin is blackened. How many times I had done that. Just a moment of intense pain sensation. Okay, that could only last for a short while, but this had the same way, only much more intense. The pain in my pelvis kept me awake, kept me alert. It was already getting a bit dim outside, I saw through the cracks of the curtain and I got hopeful that it would be over soon. But I didn't want him to wake up either. I hoped he was dead, but that also caused problems in my head, because then that was my fault and when would I get off the chair?
It took me hours before C woke up. First feeling for a while, swallowing, using his mouth because he was thirsty probably and falling asleep again. Before he got out of bed it took even longer. It seemed to take forever. Now that it was so close that the night was over, every minute was like an hour. It was beyond me, I couldn't take it anymore and held on to every minute for just a little while longer. Almost. I'll make some noise and wake him up. I hope he wakes up suddenly and hurts me terribly and then leaves, then it will be over faster. Everything went through me. Everything I had fought for that night. Being obedient, avoiding punishment and letting him sleep, was exchanged for wishing for very severe pain and punishment. So that this would be over. Finally he woke up, he looked at me as he rose slightly and got out of bed. I waited for him to give me an order, but he didn't look at me a second time and walked past me to the bathroom. I heard him pee and suddenly became intensely aware again of how badly I needed to go. To my surprise, I later heard the shower go. It took forever again. I still didn't dare move. Apparently I was still not good enough and had to persevere. But I was also angry. I had done so much for him last night and then I have to sit here even longer. My body was exhausted and spent, my skin was intensely cold, I was hungry and needed to go to the bathroom and he was standing there under a hot shower getting clean. Very secretly I wiped my arm with my other arm. My skin felt weird, kind of plastic. I looked to see if he didn't notice while I was sitting stately again. After this I felt my hair tickle against my nose again and quickly brushed it away. At once I was afraid I would notice that the tuft of hair wasn't there anymore. I felt so bad that I had moved anyway.
After showering, he came to the room wet with a towel around his lower body and said why didn't I come and shower. He was angry. I wanted to quickly jump off the chair and run to the shower, but my legs could not support my body. I crashed to the floor and all my muscles screamed in pain. But I saw his face and forgot myself and crawled like a lame dog to the shower that was still on. I went under it, but the drops of the shower hurt intensely. They were like needles piercing my skin and the heat from the shower felt like I was being burnt alive and I passed out. I woke up to a few slaps to my face and the shower turned back on. C walked away and occasionally came back and did something in the bathroom and the room. I don't know what.I stayed in the shower and tried to feel my skin again and wash myself where I was so intensely dirty.
Suddenly I heard the door slam from the room and it was silent. I listened for a long time to see if I heard something, but he was really gone. After a while I got all the feeling back in my body and turned off the shower, grabbed a towel and dried myself off. I sat back on the chair waiting for someone to come and get me. I put the towel so I felt like I was sitting as clean as possible. I didn't dare sit on the bed, although I would have loved to be under the warm blankets so much.
All day C was gone, I don't know where he was, and I entertained myself in the room. I learned to enjoy myself with what was lying around. I felt more and more free to leave the chair for a while and regularly drank from the tap. Going to the toilet I found too exciting, because then I had to flush, but the shower drain also worked in a way. There must have been a foul smell in that room, but I was not aware of it. I sometimes peeked through the windows, but the window was on the side of a road leading to the house, so I didn't dare do that very often, afraid of being seen, and I knew that was really not allowed. There was a bag of peanuts on the nightstand, but I didn't take it. I was so convinced that it would be seen. I did poke into the bag, smelled it, but that was my limit.
The day lasted quite long, but I could also quite enjoy myself in the quiet of the room and not having to sit on the wooden chair all the time. I did go back to it again and again, but also sat on the carpeted floor and tried to experience the warmth of it. I didn't touch the blankets of the bed, but I did touch the towel that slowly dried up a bit and kept me warm.
I had become very tired and sometimes it was so quiet, that I stared and felt myself sink a little. I didn't let myself fall asleep, because imagine if someone suddenly came in. Someone sees me sleeping then the punishment is huge. It has already gotten dark when I hear noises in the hallway. They are men talking and laughing, but I don't understand them. The door opens and in the meantime I sit down on the chair like C wanted me to all night.
He looked at me, stood still for a moment, and came further into the room. He mumbled something, but not well understood, and hung up his coat. He spoke soft and sweet words, but I was very much alone and could not translate it well. German was not my strong language and he did not speak English now. He grabbed the bag of peanuts, ripped it open and put a handful in his mouth. He put a little more on his hand and raised his hand to me. He offered them to me. The delicious peanuts I had been thinking about all day and could smell and almost taste were offered to me. I walked up to him and took 2 from his hand. Come on, and he spoke a German sentence at the end, but I heard in his tone that I could eat everything. I eagerly took all the nuts and ate them way too fast. They were so delicious. He took another hand and put the open bag next to him. If he now leaves, I would still secretly take one. I could not resist.
He looked at me and put his hand on the bed and knocked. I had to come and sit with him. I had hoped for the warm blankets for so long and now I was allowed, but he was there. I didn't want to as much as before. Then I obediently did what he wanted. As always, I did what others wanted and let their moods and desires determine my fate. He rubbed me everywhere and said things I don't remember. I carried away in my mind to this morning's shower and to the saltiness of the peanuts I could still taste in my mouth and find pieces between my teeth. I feel him lay me differently and put his fingers inside me, but I feel it from a distance. It doesn't matter what happens, I'm not quite there anyway. The next moment, he penetrates me. I tear up. I have a full bladder and wasn't relaxing anyway and it suddenly happened. Suddenly his heavy ungainly body on me. His chest hairs poking into my nose and his huge bulky body all over me. I'm not that big yet, he is and that really comes through when he does this to me. He plunges down next to me and strokes my cheek, saying words that sound sweet but don't arrive.
After a while he tells me to go to the chair and goes to the bathroom for a while. I go back to sitting on the chair with my legs up. I feel bad that I am sitting here like this again. That soft bed was so nice, even though what happened was not nice. I hope that by behaving well I can get back in bed with him and maybe he wants to have sex again, but that's okay. Then maybe I can stay in bed. He walks past me and gets into bed. He falls asleep like the night before and I feel the courage sink into my soles. I haven't had shoes for a long time, not even mentally. My thin soles are all I have left and they already hurt from the cold wooden chair. I feel so discouraged and so tired. I can't stand another night of sitting here not being able to go to the toilet and staying in this position, but again I am numb and can't do anything. It takes hours, it feels like days, before I dare to move a little. My hip hurts so much that I don't dare move anything a little later and I sit so still that peace and quiet come against me. I feel myself getting more tired by the minute and nod off a bit now and then. Sleeping in this position is very unpleasant and I give myself a kick in the ass time after time. Staying seated, staying awake, feeling the pain, just a little longer....
When finally a little light seems to come through the gap of the curtains again, I get a kind of victorious feeling. I made it, I made it through the night. Just a few more minutes and I can get under the hot shower. I agree with myself that I will have to crawl and that I will take the needles of the shower for granted and try to admit the warmth quickly, that is my goal. Then I can pee, then I can warm up, then I can sit differently, just a little longer.
Meanwhile C is snoring and I almost shout him awake. Wake up, it's morning, I can't take it anymore, but it takes so long, so intensely. Before I know it I am lying next to the chair. I have fallen asleep anyway and am lying next to it and C is sitting upright in his bed. My hip hurts so much that I can't immediately get myself up to sit back down on the chair and pretend nothing has happened, I can't. I can't even get myself up to sit down. I see the huge angry look on C's face. After this it is a black hole.. He jumped out of his bed, picked me up from the floor and left me standing halfway up the bed because I couldn't carry myself yet and hit me once very hard in the middle of my face. The blood came out of my nose and because I know that blood on the floor is really not allowed, I immediately grabbed a towel that lay on the bed. He got dressed and took me along the corridor to another room.
He pushed me into the room where 2 guards were sitting and walked away. I looked at them and they laughed. What did you do hooker, was the first thing they said. I stayed where I was and waited for my fate. They continued talking and I tried to keep my limp legs straight and to endure the pain in my body. My nose was still bleeding.
After a very long time C comes in and says something to the 2 men. I can feel everything that I have made him angry and I feel so worthless that I couldn't stay awake for a while. Pussy whore I say to myself, you can't do anything right. I notice to the two men that I was talking out loud. I am taken by my upper arm to another room. It is the basement of this building and I am hung up by the chains on my wrists. I see myself hanging and C has sex hard as my wrists feel ripped apart. He is so terribly angry. I had woken him up. C then walks away and the 2 men grab me together that way too. I am half unconscious when I am lifted to the car and we drive to a special house.
I want to forget everything, I try my best to forget everything, but I see his face like he's right here in front of me like this and it won't let me go. I feel the flow, I imprint what they want, but his face is never going to go away. The pain in my hips is intense, I can't get this pain out of my memory and I feel vulnerable because of this. The intense cold and feeling of failure has penetrated like a nail into my brain never to be able to get out. Formed.
 You can read here the train of thought of a child that, in extremely distressing circumstances, still manages to forge a bond with a fellow victim. This is not allowed in the world of the cult, I have heard Esther say in many tones. Together with Nathalie, in the midst of all the horror, she creates a piece of human connection, togetherness, helping each other. This gives them the powerful feeling of 'winning' from the ruthless, dehumanizing regime.
 Esther hopes that Nathalie is switching. She means: switching to another personality part, which can take over the suffering of that moment. Like Esther, Nathalie undoubtedly had a dissociative identity disorder
 Besides vaginal and anal rape, the men also put all kinds of objects in Nathalie's mouth and vagina.
 Esther refers here to a cult meeting in 2012 where both Lotte and she gave birth to a child. Esther's child had to die, Lotte's child remained alive as an unregistered child.
 This is, just like Nathalie's, a wordless agreement between two victims of this murderous cult, to help each other. During Esther's process of disengagement in recent years, she obviously couldn't keep it, and some parts of her personality struggled with it enormously.
 During Esther's disembarkation process, 2 personality parts told me from their own perspective (a child part and a teenager part) that they were called by the cult. They heard Lenie scream and then they heard a shot. To verify that Lenie was indeed dead, Esther contacted Lotte, as Esther describes here.
 Esther means that one of the ways in which the cult takes revenge on someone who has left the network is by killing the child of someone with whom it feels connected. Often they are not able to get out after all, partly because of the guilt this creates.
 The term 'closets' here refers to the inner places where memories are kept.
 With 'I was alone' Esther meant that, because of the extreme stress, at that moment only one personality part was present in the consciousness. This part did not know the German language very well.
 Esther writes here that there is a black hole. At first this is true when she is processing this memory. The part of the memory that is still there, is too intense to be remembered as well. When the process of processing this memory proceeds, the personality particle that carries this part of the memory will join it and the rest will be shared and processed from the inside as it has been written down here.