A Girl Beyond (War of the Witches Book 2)

by Marjorie Weismantel

  Belinda said, “Take a seat dear and let me explain how it works. If you decide that you don’t want to be put under by hypnosis, I most certainly would not do it.”

  Something about Belinda’s calm voice made me feel better. I took a deep breath and sat down. “OK, go ahead and explain things to me.”

  Belinda said, “Hypnosis can bring forth knowledge of a person’s past and how that past may affect their present or their future.”

  I frowned. “Are you saying that something I don’t know about my past is affecting me in some way today?”

  She nodded, “Exactly.”

  “I know about my past. I don’t understand how hypnosis would help me discover new information,” I responded.

  “Tess,” cried Mercy. “There’re crazy things happening in your life that you have no explanation for. I think you’re afraid to find out the truth.”

  I rolled my eyes. “What crazy things are you talking about? It’s not that bad!”

  Belinda raised her eyebrows and turned to me. “Let me answer that. Tess, have you ever affected the outcome of a future event by your actions? Have you ever had premonitions of a disaster which enabled you to avoid it? Have you ever heard voices from the past, or ever ‘spoken in tongues’ as we say?” She paused for a moment and then added, “Have you ever disabled someone else’s actions through your own thoughts? Have you ever been able to hear what someone else was thinking?”

  I was stunned. Everything she said had been happening to me. And Mercy was right. I was terrified to really examine what was going on so I never put it all together. If I had, I would have come to the conclusion that I was losing my mind. I also had the perfect excuse to avoid my troubles. I’ve been directing all my energies toward adapting to my new life here in Woodley. I put everything else on the back burner.

  “There is some truth in what you say,” I admitted. “What will happen when you hypnotize me?”

  “Through a series of relaxation techniques, I will be able to reach the deeper parts of your unconscious mind that would normally be inaccessible. However, you will be aware of your surroundings and what you are doing and saying. The purpose of the hypnosis is to make you more knowledgeable about your past and how your past affects your life today. When you are viewing through the lens of hypnosis, it’s almost like seeing a movie. You can pause, slow down, or go forward.”

  I responded, “I don’t understand how learning about my past will help me to understand what’s happening to me today.”

  Belinda responded, “Tess, you’ll have to trust me on this. If what I suspect about you is true, it will explain just about everything.”

  “What I don’t understand is why you just can’t just tell me about it. Why do you have to hypnotize me?” I asked.

  Mercy jumped in and said, “Tess, we don’t know about your past. That’s something that you learn from the hypnosis. Even if my mom did know something, I don’t think you’d believe her if she just told you. I had my doubts, too. You just have to see for yourself.”

  After what happened at the bon fire, I can’t afford to ignore all the strange events that seem to follow me around. There’s no sign that this insanity is stopping, or even slowing down. I would even say that these episodes are increasing in number and intensity. I’m also smart enough to know that I can’t figure this out by myself. I have no idea why they’re occurring. What’s most important is that I trust Mercy. kI don’t know her mother as well, but they seem to work together. I looked over at Belinda, “OK, let’s just do it.”

  Belinda stared at me. “Are you absolutely sure, Tess? It will open doors to the truth. Sometimes the truth can be pacifying, but it can also be terrifying. Once that door is open, you can never go back.”

  “I think the door is already open. I may as well see what’s in there,” I responded.

  Belinda stood up. “OK, Tess, let’s proceed. You can stay where you are. It’s our most comfortable chair. Also, let me make you some of my special tea before we start. It’s great for relaxing your mind. It’ll only take me a minute.” Belinda bustled off.

  Mercy came over and sat at the other end of the couch. “Tess, do you mind if I stay and listen in? I’ve been through it before so I have an idea about how it goes.”

  “You didn’t have to ask. Of course you can stay. I want you to have an understanding of what’s going on. After all, you and your mom are trying to help me.”

  Belinda came back with the tea. “Here, take a few sips. It’s called golden Pu’erh tea; quite delicious. Also, put this pillow behind your head and lean back a little.” I took a few sips of the tea. It had a very earthy taste; like moss and woods. Then I leaned back.

  Belinda sat down in front of me. “Now, take a deep breath, and as you exhale, close your eyes and feel yourself relaxing. Take another breath and slowly release. Continue breathing and with each breath feel your muscles become very loose and limp.” She continued, speaking in a low voice, “Your eyelids are becoming heavier and heavier. Feel each of your muscles become looser and heavier as you exhale. Your eyelids are so heavy. They are hard to open.” I could vaguely hear Belinda talking but I couldn’t quite catch her words.

  Next thing I know, I heard a snap. I was conscious of my surroundings but I felt like I was in a dream.

  I heard a quiet voice. “How are you doing, Tess?”

  “I’m fine.” I whispered.

  “I’m going to ask you a few questions about your past, Tess. Is that OK with you?”

  “That’s OK,” I whispered.

  “Can you speak up a little, Tess? We can’t hear you.”

  “Yes, I’ll try.” I replied quietly.

  Belinda said, “When you are ready, please bring up a vivid memory you had as a child.”

  I sat there and let thoughts of my childhood drift through my mind. One memory in particular felt like it happened only yesterday. “I remember when I was six years old. I was sitting in a big green room at the hospital with my grandpa. We were playing checkers. A man in a white coat came into the room and said, ‘It’s finally over.’ I didn’t know what he meant by that. I thought he meant that my mom wasn’t going to be sick any more. It took me a while to figure out that my mom had just died and she wouldn’t be there for me.”

  “Do you have any distinct memories from an earlier time?” Belinda asked.

  My voice was higher when I answered. “I remember the last time I saw my daddy. I was three years old. I was wearing my new yellow Tweety bird pajamas that I got for my birthday. I was feeling scared and very sad. I could hear mommy and daddy yelling a lot. Daddy said he wanted to go away.”

  “What happened with your daddy?” Belinda leaned in to ask.

  “Daddy came into my room that night. I closed my eyes because he scared me when he was mad. He kissed the top of my head. His mouth smelled funny. I opened my eyes for a peek and I saw him crying. I never saw my daddy cry before. It was awful. Then he just left. I never saw him after that,” I was whispering again. I could feel my eyes start to tear up.

  “Tess, let’s leave this time in your life. It’s so sad for you. What do you remember from your previous life?” Belinda asked.

  “My previous life?” I asked. I was confused.

  “Yes, your life before your present life. You will have to go back through the light before The Between and then the darkness and the light,” Belinda explained.

  “I don’t know about that. Let me think.” A series of vague images passed through my mind, along with a series of flashes of bright light interspersed with total darkness. Were the images real? I finally got more of a feeling than a picture.

  “I remember feeling cold.” I can’t stop shivering.

  “What do you mean?” asked Belinda.

  “It felt like we could never get warm,” I responded, my teeth chattering.

  “Why was that?”

  “We could only get warm when we sat near the hearth. Otherwise, we were so cold.”

  “Where did you li
ve?” Belinda questioned.

  “I lived in Connecticut. I wasn’t happy there,” I said in a hushed tone.

  “Why weren’t you happy in Connecticut?” asked Belinda.

  “They went after those of us who practiced the craft. They said we were familiar with the devil. ‘Tis not so.”

  “What craft are you talking about?” questioned Belinda.

  “Mother used her skills and power to relieve those who were plagued with injury or illness. She was instructing me in her arts,” I replied.

  “What period of time was this, Tess?” asked Belinda

  “My name is not Tess. It is Elsa. I know it is years before the great war with England.”

  “Why were things bad for you in Connecticut, Elsa?” asked Belinda.

  “The evil ones were the great pretenders. To deflect suspicion from themselves they became false accusers,” I answered tearfully.

  “What were the accusations?” responded Belinda

  “They accused the good ones of consorting with evil spirits in order to terrorize and afflict thy neighbors. The accusers were the ones who were the tormentors and afflicters. They were casting spells for their own gain,” I declared angrily.

  “Were you one of the accused?” questioned Belinda.

  “Mother and I were falsely accused. We were locked up in gaol for months on end. I was only six years old at the time.” Suddenly, I started rocking back and forth with my arms wrapped around myself. I could feel tears flowing down my face.

  Belinda put a reassuring hand on Tess’s arm. “Can you tell us any more about what happened?”

  “Mother had been condemned to death in a court of law by those who were truly in league with Satan. She had undergone all forms of cruelty and torture including the test by water but she would not relent,” I answered indignantly, grabbing the sides of the chair.

  “What was her crime?”

  “Her crime was that of being a healer. Surely, they should know that she was not God. There are times when only God can save someone. That some died was not her fault. However, that was not her most serious crime,” I declared indignantly.

  “What was her serious crime?” Belinda encouraged.

  “That she would not render evil for evil; she refused to name others. That surely condemned her to die because that could not stand.” I spoke angrily. I sat for a minute before continuing in a voice filled with anguish, “I remember the day. I was lying with momma in the cell. I was but a little one and I didn’t know. When they come to get her, at first, I thought we were to be freed, but no, they came and tore her away from me. They led her away and they MURDERED her. It was the worse day of my life. They said that she was forced to ride through town to be mocked and humiliated by townsfolk. Why would they treat her as such? She had always tried to do well by her neighbors. She was then brought to the hanging tree where she hung from a rope until she was dead,” I cried, tears streaming down my face.

  “What happened to you, Elsa?” Belinda gently probed.

  I said softly, “I will never forget. Mother came to me in a dream that night. She told me where coins were hidden in a tree in the woods behind our farm. As soon as I was old enough, I was to get the coin and leave Connecticut, for if I stayed I would surely be condemned as my mother had been. She said to go to Maine where we had distant kinfolk who would care for me.”

  “Did you follow your mother’s advice?” Belinda inquired.

  “For the most part, I did. When they released me from gaol, I moved in with a Quaker family that lived outside of town. They were the only ones who were not afraid to take me. After all, the townsfolk already hated the Quakers. I worked as a servant for them until I was old enough to travel to Maine. I left Connecticut and never went back,” I answered in a low tone.

  “Do you remember anything else about your time in Connecticut?”

  “I remember what happened to our property. After my mother’s death, her farm was turned over to one of her accusers. That was the law and there was nothing to be done about it. I then realized why my mother was condemned and executed. Mother was a gifted healer which made her open to charges of witchcraft. She was also a widow which put her in a perilous position. She was without the legal protection of a husband. The accusers simply wanted her farm.”

  Mercy turned to her mother and remarked, “I know that you wanted to spend more time to go back in Tess’s past but she’s already been through so much. She looks terrible, Mom. Maybe we should stop now and continue on another day.”

  “We have to go on a little longer. Just going back one life will not allow Tess to see what is really happening. She must see a pattern. In the long run she will feel better if she has some understanding and, unfortunately, we don’t have the luxury of time,” Belinda replied.

  Belinda turned back to Tess, “Elsa, how are you doing?”

  I swallowed and said quietly, “I’m all right.”

  “We want to go back in again. Are you ready to continue?”

  “Yes, we can go on,” I responded.

  Belinda turned and made eye contact with Tess. “Take a deep breath and clear your mind, then go back again, through the brightness, and then The Between to the blackness and the light. You’ll be going to the previous life.”

  “There is another previous life?”

  “Yes, there is a previous life before the time of The Between.”

  In my mind, I again see intermittent flashing images of light and dark. I try to slow it down so that it becomes a picture. Finally, I can see my hands. That is so strange. “My hands are purple,” I remarked.

  “Purple hands!” exclaimed Belinda, “Look around and see why they are purple. There must be a reason.”

  “Now I see. I am picking bunches of purple grapes and putting them in a basket. That’s why I have purple hands,” I answered.

  Belinda asked, “Can you describe anything else about yourself?”

  “I have on wooden shoes with a wide leather strap. I am wearing a rough brown dress and my hair is pulled back into a braid.”

  “What else can you tell me about you or where you are, Tess?” questioned Belinda.

  “I am a German girl and my name is Gysel. It looks like I am in some vineyards in a large valley because I see mountains around us. We are working this land in order to pay the tithe to the church. It is located by a very old Germanic city near Luxembourg.”

  “Can you tell what the time frame is?” enquired Belinda.

  I hesitate before I answer, “I believe it was just before the time of the long war between the Protestants and Catholics in the German lands.”

  Belinda directed to Mercy, “Look up the long religious war in Germany, probably during late Middle Ages.”

  Belinda turned to Tess and spoke crisply, “What else can you say, Gysel, about what it is like there?”

  “I am getting a very bad feeling about how things are here. I see a man on a horse that appears wealthy by his dress. He is wearing a big purple robe with a strange pointy hat. Villagers refer to him as the archbishop. He is obviously the one in charge of the people working here because everyone is very afraid of him.” My response is almost a whisper.

  Belinda asked, “Why do you feel that things are going badly there?”

  “The archbishop is powerful and corrupt. I also sense that he has special powers that he uses for his own gain. He is masquerading as a great church leader when, in fact, he is an instrument of the devil. I have tried to stay invisible around him. I have not used my healing powers for a long time because I know it would be my undoing here,” I hoarsely whispered.

  “How is your life there?” questioned Belinda.

  “It is very hard. Papa has the wasting sickness so my younger brother, Gunther has been staying home to care for him. We are falling behind on our tithe to the church and I’m afraid we cannot catch up, for if you do not pay, you end up in the dungeon. I also worry about being charged with witchcraft by that archbishop. I am very careful because so many wo
men are being accused,” I assert quietly.

  “What happens to those who are accused?” Belinda asked.

  “They must undergo torture to determine if they are ‘practitioners of sorcery’. For example, if someone is thrown into the river and they float, they must be guilty of witchcraft. If they sink and drown, then they are probably not witches. They are also stuck with pins and stretched out on the rack to force them to name others. Once accused, it is impossible to escape persecution,” I answer in a whisper, feeling a trembling take over my body.

  Belinda directs comments to Mercy. “I think it’s time to end this for today. Tess has heard some very distressing personal stories. ”

  Belinda faces Tess to instruct her. “I am going to count backwards from ten to one. As I count, your eyes will get less and less heavy. When I get to one, you will open your eyes and feel wide awake. You will remember everything we have talked about today. Ten, nine, eight . . . . . . . . . . . . .one.”

  I opened my eyes and saw Mercy and Belinda smiling at me. I felt as if I have just woken up from a series of disconnected nightmares. The only difference is, I remembered everything and I believed they were real. And, surprisingly, I feel fully refreshed as if I was asleep for a long while.

  “I just have one question for you, Belinda. I spoke about the hanging of witches in Connecticut and the persecution of witches in Germany by that archbishop. Do you know if those things actually happened in history?”

  Mercy said, “If you don’t mind, Mom, I’ll tell Tess about the time frame. It may help with her question.” She looked at her computer screen before continuing, “I looked up the time frame you mentioned when you were in Germany. You said it was before the war between the Protestants and the Catholics in the German lands. I believe you were referring to the Thirty Year War that occurred in Central Europe. That was from 1618 to 1638.”

  Belinda regarded me seriously before answering, “So that means that you were probably living in Germany either in the late 1500s or the early 1600s. Of course, I cannot answer any question specifically regarding your personal stories. I can tell you that witches were executed in Connecticut by hanging. The number of young children who were imprisoned is unknown because many of the early court records were lost or destroyed. In Germany, many witches were prosecuted between the 14th and the 18th centuries. It is known that some corrupt leaders of the church were among the most zealous witch accusers. So, yes, what you described during your regression truly did happen in history.”