I’ve been unearthing these repressed memories, some are easy to face, but other take a lot of
work to focus on. I guess its our survival mechanisms that make us forget traumatic stuff. When we
face information that changes our view of ourselves or our view of the things we believe we know, our mind just kind of rejects it.
One night I invited a couple girls over to the house there in White Oak. See, my parents had unexpectedly “gone out of town for the weekend, like some kind of 80s rom-com”. Yeah, so here’s the thing; they laced me with something. I vaguely remember the house, and they had rearranged the living room, the couch was turned and facing the window. I remember that being odd and it seemed like the girl I was with was upset and that was it. No memories after that, they reinserted me back into the matrix. I had somehow rationalized that she just went home. I never saw her at work again, I never saw her ever again. The truth; from my perspective, she disappeared into his house that night.
