October 6, 23, near Den Bosch
Processing weekend. A weekend that I plan from time to time to be able to go through tough memories, where I just need to be able to scream and shout, without scaring my children and feeling ashamed. My goal this time was to sleep a lot and, in addition, try to let all my anger out. Anger and hatred that I have been learning to feel and accept more and more over the last few months, and that needs to get out now, before it turns into bitterness. I had had busy days and now I was on my way to where I feel peace and space to dare to do this.
The ride was pretty quiet, fairly few chases by cult. Halfway through the ride, someone informed me that I had forgotten an appointment. A very important appointment involving someone else's safety, so important enough in my eyes to stop for a moment anyway. To take a moment to app safely, I parked the car at a busy petrol station. Previously, I had chosen a quiet, to my eyes, a safe spot, but people around me all taught me that busy spots are safer because more people can see there when something weird happens. So there I was in a very busy car park.
I got to a petrol station and picked a busy spot where there were many cars going back and forth, people getting out for pump and toilet. I locked the door and turned on the music for some distraction from my fears of unfamiliar places where I have no overview and quietly sent my message. I was quite proud of myself for picking a busy place and keeping the door locked. In the past, I often didn't do that because I actually felt secluded places as safer, but I am learning to think more and more like a 'normal' person than someone from the cult. After a short while it became super hot in the car because of the sun and my app conversation took a little longer than I had planned and I opened the window a little. I wanted to start driving again and at that moment H was standing next to the car with a gun at my neck. And then against my temple. His arm fitted comfortably through the hole in the window, very stupid to open it that far, now in hindsight.
H. is one of the most cruel, sadistic offenders I know. From the time I was a little one, he has been employed to train me to kill animals and a little later humans, and he has regularly tortured me in all sorts of extreme ways (particularly sexually) from that age onwards. He is one of many perpetrators who to this day regularly pursues me with the aim of intimidating me and, if my attention wanes for a moment, to target me. H. is an offender linked to the cult through the criminal circuit and has been hospitalised with tbs.
H. said a few words like 'dirty cunt whore, open'. I stiffened as he suddenly stood here and for a moment I had felt safe. The ground sank under my feet and I was immediately convinced that I was a goner. They had long wanted to catch me outside the door at home and now he was here and then I opened the window further. He was going to kill me anyway. Any thought that other people might hear if he shot did not occur to me at all, I obeyed, he was 1 million times bigger and stronger than me. The window opened and H. then directly opened the door himself from inside. Then I had to climb over to the back seat. While climbing over, I got a bang to my head. I thought he was going to kill me and lay down on the back seat and gave up. I was convinced of my imminent death and lay waiting for what was going to happen. He got behind the wheel and drove off. While driving, he called someone, saying he was coming. I told him that everything I have ever told will start to be brought out when I am dead and he cannot stop this, including info about a particular person I mentioned. We drove for 5-10 min to a deserted country road. There was another car there. The cars were next to each other and H. opened the doors of the back seats of the 2 cars. i was lying on the back seat and H. joined me. He said 'look your ...... is also there'. This is a relative who is still a child. In the other car, I saw a man sitting in the back seat with the baby on his lap. I felt so terrible seeing that little man who I am also supposed to protect, but which has been failing all his life. H. started cutting my clothes to pieces. When he took off my trousers, he showed money and said he had paid me with this and put it in my butt pocket. He tore it further and took off the rest, except socks and bra. Then he started cutting. He did it very slowly and had something to say with each piece. With a stanley knife, he cut into my skin new symbols, but because of the huge adrenaline and the conviction that he was going to skin me, the real pain did not arrive. He wanted me to feel it properly and saw that I was off and added to it. He was going to rape me first while he put my legs up and cut into my buttocks with the knife. Nice and tight he then said, while he was busy and clearly enjoying the rape. He meanwhile grabbed something from the roof and pushed it into my mouth and with his fingers he pushed it down the back of my throat. 'Swallow cunt' he said. I felt capsules go down my throat, I think 2, but I assumed he was going to kill me anyway so wasn't too upset about it. He gave me water to drink and then emptied my water bottle lying between the chairs outside and put t bottle of his water in it. He said it should be empty tonight and I nodded. I didn't even realise he was thereby saying I was still alive. Then he turned me around and continued there. He cut my back while he was raping. Carved Symbols into my back with a lot of meaning. Words like renegade, pussy whore, hellrider, bitch, everything he could think of came along. Then he seemed to leave me alone. Suddenly the other guy came. Pushed me into a sitting position and he crawled behind me. He lay down on the sofa and I had to lie on my back on top of him. My little relative had to ride horseback on my belly while the guy raped me. Then H. started sewing. H. was sewing with needle and thread from below while the other guy was raping from behind, causing H. to occasionally mis-stitch. My little relative saw what H. was doing because he was sitting towards H. and H. showed him how to pull the threads he had just made in my labia and play with them. This he let happen for a while. It really felt like an eternity. Meanwhile, the man held a stanley knife to my throat. Both sides he switched once.
They took off my little relative and said hello to your ...(family name). I thought I was dying now and this was our goodbye. The little guy waved. The man had then also got out and they drove away.... I didn't quite know what had happened. It happened so fast, I thought they were going to kill me and now they were leaving.... I was totally confused and got extremely scared by suddenly being alone, there on that country road. I saw the knife lying on the floor of the back seat as I was busy looking for my clothes. Then I saw the car driving back.
The gun was in H.'s hands and he pulled me out of the car while the man held my little relative for his legs. He grabbed my hand, put the gun in it and he held my hand and kept it pointed at the little man. Shall I kill him or X. was asked (X. is another adult relative of mine). I couldn't say anything and looked into the tiny eyes of the little man who didn't understand a thing.
(Here should be a piece that a large network of friends know, but unfortunately we cannot publish for several reasons. However, we can say that the little guy came out of this alive).
They drove away. I was stunned and didn't know what to do. I was naked except for bra and socks and was also afraid others would see me and police would come, but it was really quiet here. I stood up but it hurt so much from underneath that I had to open it. I looked for the knife in the car and undid the stitches from underneath. I wasn't sure if I had had every suture but later it turned out I had. There were four of them. I quickly put on my trousers and clothes. I put on my vest over it because my clothes were broken and my bra was visible, which I only realised when I had it on, and quickly drove off. I just didn't know where to go. I was very scared that someone would see me like this, that police would drive by or that I would lose consciousness. I panicked.
A bit further on, I pulled over the car to look for the phone but was so upset that I couldn't find it. I could find the safe phone I use to app with Aline, but it does not have internet when my regular phone is not there, so I decided to app to Aline and find a Mac Donalds for internet. In the distance, I saw police driving and I panicked even further. My face and body and clothes were covered in blood, my cameras from the car had been pulled out and the loose cords went half in front of my face, I would stand out. Also lying in the car was the knife, as I had thrown it on the back seat after cutting the stitches loose. On the way, it turned out that messages were sent anyway and so somewhere there was my phone.
I was apping with Aline, I felt so bad that I couldn't connect with anyone. And then you connect and someone is so far away. She was already in the car and driving in my direction but was still more than an hour away from me.
I was still clear enough that I was on my way to where I would be staying for the weekend and realised that place was closer than driving back home, but it was still such a long drive that my panic intensified. Aline kept me there on the app and told me the thing that motivated me to keep driving, not to stop, even though I wanted so badly to stop and get out and not want to know, hear or see anything more, but I had to keep going. I found this drive so incredibly hard, I almost couldn't do it. Nobody close by, nobody who could be here in 10 minutes or so and I was so unsafe and I was in so much pain and I was getting more and more fuzzy in my head. My thinking slowed down and I noticed that I ended up on the other side of the road twice and sometimes half took the emergency lane. Something was happening to me that I had no control over and it was terrifying.
Aline kept me there and made sure I was heading towards the already planned destination and when I realised I was driving there, other panic broke out. At that destination, 2 people were waiting for me who would take care of me and stay with me so that I was safe in this place. These people I had trusted for years, but had never seen me in this state before. Always when something used to happen, I would camouflage everything, cover up the evidence and smile cheerfully as if nothing was wrong, because with Esther, after all, things always go well. Now my trousers were ripped, my clothes were broken, I had cuts on my neck and my face was smeared with blood. I could only hide it away if I went past a petrol station and washed and changed there.... What a struggle to start showing myself to people like this.
Too woozy to make any real choices, I let Aline guide me and drove on. Once I arrived, I didn't know what to do, but at the first hug after arriving, I vomited. I couldn't take it anymore. We walked to where we were going to stay and I didn't know what to do anymore. Wanting to take off my clothes, wash, and be very safely locked in a small place, I crawled into the shower. I felt so intensely dirty, but also so fuzzy and absent-minded, that I let go of everything for a while. After this, I only remember fragments. I have been awake for days on and off and a lot has happened, but my memory has huge gaps.
I am now over a week on and slowly my symptoms are starting to improve. The big question is, what on earth did I have and did they want me to drive to my death, poison me as a suicide or not? Somehow I hope to never get an answer to this question.
The past few months have been intense in terms of pursuits, coming to the door, infiltrating in other ways and bullying my family and friends. I am learning to share and tell more and more and know that I will remain above it all because I am doing this with Yeshua. My militancy is only increasing to help other survivors. That's for sure! Besides, I do know that He will deal with them, now or ever, but it happens, what a peace that gives me.
Postscript by Aline
When I realised that Esther had disappeared from the radar, a huge stone fell on my stomach and I was convinced that I would not see her again. I tried to keep my cool and not indulge in thoughts of what horrors cult could be doing to her right now. Meanwhile, I received notifications from the friends network that cult emails were coming in, with titles like 'one last look' and '60 more minutes' accompanied by attachments with (would later turn out to be) horrific torture photos. Following the agreed steps, I set the prayer groups to work via messages on the prayer apps, asked my husband to call off the visitors who would be on my doorstep in 15 minutes, looked up the protocol I have agreed with Esther for such situations, and set off with my husband in the car towards where I knew she was heading. After some time, to my immense surprise and relief, I saw a message from Esther come in on my app and was momentarily angry at myself for not jumping in the car immediately so I would now be a lot further on my way, now I had to drive for over an hour. I searched for the right words to help her get to her destination safely and didn't ask what had happened. I didn't want to bring up any emotions now that she might have just pushed away a little with all her might. First, she had to arrive at her destination. My tension only really subsided when that succeeded.
I was not prepared for what I found when I arrived: Esther was lying on the floor in the shower in a coma before my eyes, with the tap still on. She was covered in incised cult symbols. Was she in a coma, or was it a very small part of the person that was not integrated with me that I did not yet know that had taken over consciousness in this crisis? I didn't know. I started talking, she seemed to recover a little bit, coughing and trying to push her finger down her throat. It took me a moment to realise what she could possibly be doing. 'If only I had asked more questions about what exactly had happened when I was apping her,' shot through me. I grabbed her hand and asked her to tell me 'yes' or 'no' to my questions by squeezing. I asked if she had had to swallow pills and got several yeses. She grabbed my hand and moved it to her mouth. I thought I understood what she meant and put my hand as far down her throat as possible. She cooperated from which I understood that was indeed the intention, she tried to gag. It didn't work even after several attempts. Esther's partner, whom I was by now on the phone, thought of calling a doctor friend. Yes of course, why didn't I come up with that myself. The doctor was able to tell me that given the time that had now elapsed, there was no point. Her body would have to drain the poison itself by drinking a lot and she had some other tips. My husband went in search of a nearby pharmacy to get that arranged, while I took her pulse, guided by the doctor's instructions. By now Esther was slightly more approachable and looked for her water bottle, which was also in the shower. I helped her drink, which was very important now, the doctor had just assured me.
Much earlier, Esther had indicated she never wanted to go to hospital in such a condition, and again she indicated this very clearly non-verbally when I suggested it anyway. We knew that Esther had several reasons for this: hospital situations contain a lot of triggers to torture sessions in specially designed torture chambers. In the course of her recovery process, however, that aspect weighed less and less heavily. More important was Esther's deep conviction that cult also has its 'staff' in hospitals, just like police. And that if she were taken there now, it would certainly be her death by e.g. a syringe that would give the final push. Even my assurance that I would not leave her side for a moment made no difference. In consultation with her partner, we decided to respect Esther's explicit wish in this too.
When, after some time and creativity, she managed to get Esther on the bed, an exciting night followed. She alternately sank and her body shot into physical re-experiences. To help her through that, I started talking to what turned out to be several still-divorced personality parts. I was told fragments of what had happened that afternoon, interspersed with snippets from the past. One part told me how as a very little girl she was sewn up from underneath by H. And that she was never allowed to fall asleep. And if she did, he would pull the strings so she would wake up. As punishment, he then came with his thing in her mouth. Though I have heard a lot of it before, I was again stunned by so much intense malicious cruelty to a three-year-old girl. But, this person part told me, H. also did sweet things. She sometimes got money from him out of the blue. I also inferred from her story that she had also received money yesterday. This was confirmed when, later that day, I wanted to fold Esther's bloodied and torn jeans and money fell out of her pocket. I wondered if this 'sleeping' person part was the reason that perpetrator H. had stood right in front of Esther's room window for a very long time several times over the past few months, trying to make eye contact with a compelling look.
Another part told me about a particular cult group I had not heard of before that perpetrator H. was also part of. The purpose of the group was to protect a certain very high-ranking person. This person part (who perceived himself as a boy) was tasked with always protecting this person and set an honour in doing so. He was used as a child in killings ordered by this high-ranking person. I tried to connect with the past these person parts were still living in and let them tell as much as possible about what they had experienced and allow their feelings in the process. Actually a far too hard effort for Esther's totally exhausted body that might die but I knew no other way. I didn't get to speak to Esther as an adult and she couldn't sleep anyway because the spontaneous body re-experiences of the person parts prevented that. Only once in a while would she sink very deep for a while, which again was scary. Whenever I got the chance, I tried to give her something to drink, but only sparingly. I knew how attached Esther is to drinking her own filtered rainwater that she always takes with her in her water bottle. So I gave her to drink from that, and not tap water.
By morning, I thought I spoke to Esther a couple of times who indicated that she thought she was dying and would not make it. I myself was more hopeful at that point. Not much later, I understood from the very young child part that she had been instructed by perpetrator H. to empty her bottle. It slowly dawned on me that I was possibly giving her poisoned water, and I reproached myself for not having thought of that myself. That it is not smart to let a deathly ill person drink from a bottle that her enemy may have had in his hands... A little later, when Esther shot into a very strange spasm several times, I really started to fear for her life. The doctor thinking along from a distance ordered me to really go to the hospital now, but again in consultation with Esther's partner, we decided to continue to respect her express wish. However, at a time when Esther was more lucid, I did record a video in which she whispered an answer to my question about why she did not want to go to hospital. As proof to all concerned that we had acted on her express wish and conviction, if Esther did die. We also considered having her partner and children come, but again Esther indicated she did not want this. It was unbearable for her and perhaps the final push in the wrong direction if her children saw her like this, Esther made clear. Her partner, Esther and I agreed that we would also respect this wish, but if there was no improvement around a certain time that then partner and children would still come.
To my great relief, Esther gradually snapped up over the following hours, she was more present as an adult part and further spasms were absent. However, the pain actually became more palpable now that the dissociated person parts were no longer in the foreground. Not only the pain from the injuries, but also the pain in hips and other body parts due to the impossible positions into which Esther's body had been forced during the violent rape. The doctor, who had decided to come now that we were not going to the hospital anyway, came over and helped with pain medication. A difficult balancing act, as Esther's breathing was too low and certain pain medication can lower it further.
When the latter had left, Esther asked me what exactly was carved on her back. It bothered her and she was under the impression that it was the cult symbol of a certain cult group. She recalled that H was very slow, meticulous and deliberate about it. I drew on paper what I saw and Esther indeed recognised this as a symbol of a certain group. I told her what a part of her had told me last night about a certain group and asked if that belonged together. This indeed evoked recognition in Esther and a process of processing and eventual integration of the personality parts began, which was completed intermittently a day later. In the days that followed, horrific re-experiences surfaced around perpetrator H. that had not been addressed before. These, unfortunately, we cannot publish here for several reasons.
We are now a week on. Cult now has recent photos of Esther again where she is in their hands. Photos with which they can intimidate other aid seekers, whom Esther is trying to help together with the Friends of Esthers team, and take away all courage. This is one of the reasons Esther has chosen to publish her story here.
Describing how Esther is doing now, she herself said. Never before have I seen, heard and felt so closely, right after it happened, what intense pain, suffering and horror this cult brings about. In recent years, including before her grand integration October 2022, I heard it more and more quickly when something had happened because of cult. But always afterwards when she had recovered somewhat. Before the big integration, she could let extreme pain, including from being stitched up and very violently raped like now, be carried by person parts in such a way that 5 minutes later she was just back to work as if nothing had happened. Usually I then only heard what had happened many days later by bits and pieces. Those days are thankfully definitely over. Dealing with extreme pain in that way is no longer possible after the major integration. Nor is continuing as if nothing had happened.
But how many Esthers, and for that matter how many Ezekiel's are walking around the Netherlands who are just doing their jobs, taking care of their children, doing their households, while their hearts and bodies are bleeding on all sides? What would it take to give them the freedom to dare to speak the truth like Esther and stop suffering so horribly alone?