Girl in coffin

Book insert I am who? - drawings by a survivor of satanic ritual abuse

This book is published by Friends of Esthers, a Foundation that aims to provide help, assistance, support and care to victims of organised sexual abuse, specifically of 'satanic ritual abuse'. The website lichtoplevens.nl provides an introduction to what s.r.m. entails and the website lichtopsrm.nl describes, among other things, Esther's horrifying story.
Where Esther has rendered her story in text - an extract of it below, another 'Esther' has done the drawings of this book. It is an equally vivid and terrifying depiction of the same organised abuse.
We hope that people will be touched by the uncomfortable and harrowing reality of s.r.m. and will not look away, so that victims will come to experience that they are not alone in their struggle.

From the book I am Who? - Girl in coffin

Girl in coffin - A story from the life of Esther
"We walked forcibly to the back where 2 crates were in a hole in the ground and they opened the flap. 'Lie down,' 1 of the men said to us and I crawled straight into the crate. I knew I had to obey immediately, my life depended on it. Another girl seemed to go into the other coffin, but I was so preoccupied with myself that I didn't pay attention to her. As soon as I climbed in, he got angry and I was startled. Immediately, so many alarm bells went off and I started having thoughts like 'What have I done wrong? What did I miss? How am I supposed to make up for it?' But he was not angry at me, but at the 2 girls who were still as stiff as they were already standing. They were reprimanded for not listening. Reacting late is also not listening. 1 girl got a very hard blow on her head with the hammer he had in his hands and the other one climbed into the other box very quickly afterwards. This is what you get when you decide not to listen right away, he said. I lay there alone, stock-still in the coffin, hearing all kinds of noises. But I stayed down, even if it took a while. I was used to lying, waiting.
Suddenly, something was thrown on my stomach and I saw that it was an arm. I completely panicked because I was afraid I would die too. Later, 2 more pieces came and from the other chest I heard a scream for a moment. My adrenaline shot through my body and everything inside me turned on. The fear was so sky-high. I felt the body parts were still bleeding. After this, the head was placed on my stomach. 'Hold it,' he said. I held it, by the ears accidentally and did not move. I didn't think of moving at all. There I lay with her head on my stomach, her severed neck on my belly and I felt the blood trickling down my side. The flap closed and I stayed as I lay. Nothing in me wanted to move. My whole body was in agony and every nerve was so on alert that it could no longer function and was therefore frozen. The hammer hit the lid and I heard the same sound echoing a little further away from me. A loud bang landed on the lid, and sand came between the cracks and fell on my face. I had been buried before and knew I was now going under the earth, waiting to see if they would take me out again. The little light that came through the cracks got smaller with each blow, until it was dark. Even though I could reason that I was really alone anyway and no one could probably see me, I still didn't dare move.
I felt so alone, with that head between my hands, so alone. I did not move for hours before I felt. I had been locked in a coffin before and also buried alive. It was not the first time and that helped me a lot by not feeling scared, but the loneliness and the waiting and the cold was killing me. The feeling of her head between my hands, her ears and her hair was super strong, sensorially difficult to process and any movement I wanted to make caused a stream of sand between the cracks on my body, which in turn caused tickling and discomfort and great panic. In those hours, my thoughts went in all directions. What had I done wrong, who is dead, is there still someone next to me in that other coffin, are they leaving me here and am I dying slowly? So many questions... My back started hurting and the cold became so bad that lying stretched was no longer possible. Whenever I moved slightly to lie differently, I felt a limb slide down my leg which again startled me and I froze again. Hours lasted. If you said it was days, I would believe it too. So long that I came to the point of giving up, then dead. They had forgotten me and wouldn't come to get me anyway. They had forgotten me. The hopelessness was so intense, that someone could have done anything to me, without me 'caring'. I was totally dead inside and there was no bad, better, good, everything hit 1 line, without judgement. I was waiting for absolute silence and redemption.
Suddenly, I heard clacking on the lid. I had fallen asleep and woke up to the unexpected sounds. The sand was being scooped off. I heard the voices getting a little clearer and clearer and they were laughing every now and then. The panic, the joy, the despair, the fear, the hope, all mixed together, not knowing what it will be like when the lid will open. Will they kill me, will they comfort me, have I done well, or should I have been dead, should I play dead or just be happy when the lid opens. I didn't know. The lid was wrenched open and the light came into my eyes like a bright sun rising all at once behind the clouds and made them close. The light was too bright, I couldn't handle it and was shocked when they pulled the head out from between my hands. I had appropriated it, she belonged to me. She had become my friend in the loneliness and cold and now I couldn't live without her. It hurt. Well by now the neck was also stuck to my skin and suddenly pulling it off hurt, but above all the bare feeling was unbearable and I broke. My only hold was gone. I started crying intensely, closed inside myself and no longer realised there was an outside world. Time stood still. Someone grabbed me from the coffin and held me. I only half experienced it.
I was comforted, given a warm blanket and kind gentle words and for a moment I felt warmth again. As if I came back to 'normal' life and stepped from death back into life. In retrospect, very bizarre how easy it was to go from total hopelessness to longing for warmth and love. I sucked it up like a super dry sponge. I was carried to the cottage and put in the bathroom. He turned on the shower and pushed me under it. The water was freezing cold and like a rock hard slap I woke up. I stood there alone in the shower and watched the filth flush down the drain. I realised I had survived, and I was back in misery. My entire hold on anything or anyone was gone again. After a shower and getting dressed, the whole tender feeling and approach was gone again. The soft voice and warm gentle hands were gone and I was alone. Again.

Esther