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Lights - strange events.

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describe to her the lucid image which now haunted his mind. John said he didn't want to; he said it was dark, and he didn't like the dark. Cindy insisted, albeit from a warm prospective.

"The room is very big," uttered John, his voice tiny, as though awed by the enormity of a place we had no insight to. "The beds are lined along either side of the wall, and the windows are situated all along one side. I don't like it when the moon's round that side, it makes the shadows reach out and touch my bed."

Cindy made notes as he spoke, only punctuating them with an intermittent question here and there. She asked which of the shadows in particular scared him, and why? John said he didn't like the shadow of Beaver's wardrobe, whoever the hell Beavers was! Later I would discover it a nickname of a classmate, so called because he had enormous teeth. Cindy moved cautiously forwards, scrutinising each sentence he spoke. She told him to continue with his description and perhaps recall any strange events. John explained, that sometimes, the boys get out of bed, and other times, when they're all asleep, the lights come....

"Tell me about the lights, in detail, John?" Encouraged Cindy.

"I don't like the lights," he recalled; and on the couch his body trembled.

John curled himself tight in a ball, and hugged himself. "They take me away," he insisted: "To a room filled with people. They hurt me!" He blurted, and as I recall it, John's face appeared distressed, yet he still appeared at ease with his encounter, as if he'd come to accept the inevitable, and had no real control over the outcome.

John appeared very subservient as he lay there, rocking his body. Cindy told him to calm himself, to take, long deep breaths and release them softly through pursed lips. John was like an infant, powerless against Cindy's will.

"Who makes you get up, John?" Probed Cindy, as she repositioned her tape recorder.

John said it was the small man, with the big eyes. "He always makes me go with him; he keeps telling me he's my friend, and we're related. But I don't think he is," added John emotionally, as his mood suddenly plunged from one of anxiety, to distress. John started to cry at that point. His emotion quickly grew with each word he spoke, until he became reminiscent of a small boy, crying for no apparent reason, or at least no apparent reason I could phantom at that decisive moment.

"Why does he say he is a relative, John?" Asked Cindy, her forehead frowning.

John said in a shy whisper, through his tears, he didn't know. Cindy told him to calm himself, there was nothing to be afraid of, and no one would hurt him. John suggested they had to go down stairs, out over the main hall and down past the cricket pitch to where the craft was.

"Is it on the ground, or in the air?" Asked Cindy.

"It's on the ground, and the door's open. I can see them inside waiting for me. They don't speak, just stare at me with huge eyes, and shiny faces. I want to go home," said John, becoming emotional again.

I was sat over by the door instantly trying to comprehend this intriguing set of circumstances which surrounded John. Why would they claim to be his relatives for Christ sakes? There seemed no logic to his account, other than the over active imagination of a child, brought candidly forwards into adulthood.

Cindy looked suspicious, and even I had problems coming to terms with what I heard. She placed John deeper into a sleep, and the pair of us conversed over on the far side of her office. We spoke in a conspiracy fashion, arms folded, heads down, just the occasional whisper transpiring between us. Cindy told me she thought an element of paedophilia might be involved, and John's subconscious might determine that into a more acceptable explanation.

She explained to me the intricate detail of blame transference, as she termed it. Cindy said John might be showing signs of guilt, remorse even, and therefore has chosen a different explanation to describe it. She told me in whispers that maybe a teacher had been abusing children at the school by extracting them from their beds, and selecting an alternative location to interfere with them.

"If he was very tired when woken, maybe even drug induced, the mind can misinterpret situations. If they told him a relative was present it could be a strong indication, someone

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Below is a list of chapters for the Metaphysics Anthology. The book itself is designed as abit of fun! One man thinking out loud. You should not see it as science, merely enjoy the imagination of the human mind in full swing.

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