Home In The Shadows
past life regression therapy

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Not a bedtime story for children, adults only please.

Home In The Shadows
By Thomas Paul

Why was I left alone in the shadows?”

There was a child living in The Shadows, a dark place he couldn’t escape. Its insanity burrowed deep inside him every day. Shadows was an orphanage tucked away in Old England’s woods. It was, however, striking range from city dwellers, privy to its unspoken ways. It’s at Shadows where a frightened lad tried to ignore creaking sounds and house aches.

He rarely slept at Shadows, nobody did. His bed was pressed against the corner wall under a locked window. One eye hesitantly remained open watching for any looming, moonlit shapes. His body, like clockwork, jolted when 3:00 a.m. approached; the hour when another stranger would stand beside him. Perhaps tonight he’ll be spared, but his body curled and felt disgraced by its substituted fear: his sister laid restless downstairs. His heart raced, then stopped its pounding. A man suddenly clenched his leg from underneath the bed, this time, strapping him in. He gripped his only consolation, the fold of a mangled sheet barely within reach of his shivering, young hand.

For those of sound mind, Shadows seemed deathly cold from the moment anyone gazed upon its iron gates, but its transient and regular visitors were anything but sane. They were eager souls with voracious appetites, expecting their cravings to be met at its fine buffet.

Shadows was pungent and damp from years of patronage by carnivorous predators with a taste for its tender skin. Some were intoxicated, while others appeared eerily aware of their peculiar inclinations. Its spectators possessed unimaginable perversions and entitlements, allowing them access to its center stage. Some men were disease-stricken throughout their aging bodies, many were afflicted with mental sicknesses, but none of them desired a cure.

Shadows was where one explored the murkiest corners of their unconscious mind without discerning glares from passing faces. Any engagement was acceptable within the confines of the Shadows enclave.

Shadows’ clientele inflicted undue pain upon miniature fragments of the human race. Some beat or gagged their trembling dolls into quiet submission. Others interrupted their victims’ desperate voices and tears by paralyzing them with inconceivable fear.     
Shadows had a dungeon for gruesome proclivities. Its gaslit walls outlined both angelic cherubs and devilish creatures; hence, its contradictions. At its doorstep were criminals, who masqueraded as politicians, doctors, fathers, even God-pushers. The men of Shadows weren’t living in the alleys of society; rather they were at its forefront, making this devilish place even more unfathomable. It was frequented by ruthless, powerful men accustomed to partaking in whatever their twisted skull cavities could entertain.

The victims of Shadows had been chained, raped and castrated. Some were hung or beheaded. Others were burned alive in sadistic rituals, or to erase any remains, after an evening of perverted debauchery. Its throwaway souls were tortured and ambushed by unending masochism that overwhelmed them with recurring nightmares. Their beautiful minds tried to block and deafen its claims, but their agonizing bodies embolden them to surface and resolve misdirected shame.

Welcome to a boy’s home in the shadows, which accommodated perpetrators and lost souls. Dormant and pernicious secrets needed somewhere to stay, and Shadows was the perfect place. It’s where the demons of society trolled for helpless minors to control, while innocents and even its beast-keepers shuddered at what Shadows had become−Hell’s Playground.

Shadows imprisoned unfortunate children, even when they weren’t aware of subliminal pulls into the depths of Hell’s soulless pit. Hell shrouded them from a bright life of joy and celebrations. It crushed a boy’s hope, if he had any, even during reprieves from all of the barbarity. And sadly, many of its inhabitants felt strangely at Home In The Shadows, alone in the only world they’ve ever known.

Home In The Shadows, Hell's Playground, is based on recollections of actual incidents from Past Life Therapy Center® clients who have provided written approval to share their regression experiences. This piece may be considered a detour in style from my regularly posted newsletters, but its intention is the same: to encourage others to surface their history of anguishes and past-life traumas, which can be resolved with the Past Life Therapy Center® De-Hypnosis Method.

Shadows presents a disturbing reality that is present in the minds of individuals suffering from lifetimes of violence and sexual abuses. There are more untold tragedies from Shadows, which could be included in an educational collection, though on its own, it may be aptly known as The Novella No One Wants To Read (But Should) or Let’s Pretend This Didn’t Happen.

The truth is that Shadows did happen and exists today in varying forms, whether at a neighbor’s home, or within the psyche of homeless people roaming city streets. Its victims feel abandoned or may think they’ll never adapt to their confusing environment. They need immediate assistance, sometimes medical care, including mental/spiritual resolution of their turmoil. Their anxiety, depression and emotional/physical traumas are often held in place by unconscious commands, making them feel trapped or stuck in a past-life reality.

This article is dedicated in memory of Jill May, although we never met. Jill, having worked as a prostitute, is shown above in San Francisco, CA. Her face depicts a frightened, childlike soul living in the shadows of society. She was kidnapped off the street and taken to Candlestick Park, doused with gasoline and set on fire and killed by her drug-dealing pimp. (Brant Ward / Associated Press ). “S.F. Drug Dealer Convicted Of Burning Homeless Addict Alive” By Ari Bloomekatz, October 30, 2013. Los Angeles Times.

What Can You Do to Help Yourself and/or Others?

Prescription/recreational drugs aren’t a solution for mind-body challenges. Shadows’ victims, like others who experienced similar madness, require deep-rooted soul/spiritual work. Without appropriate therapy, victimization patterns can continue for lifetimes, be it as sexual torture, alcoholism, homelessness, or unresolved emotional reinforcement of AIDS and various cancers.

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Dr. Thomas Paul, founder of Past Life Therapy Center®, practices past life regression primarily in Los Angeles, CA, though he can be retained worldwide via travel, phone, or Skype (teleconferencing sessions are an effective alternative to in-person sessions and deliver exceptional results). The PLTC De-Hypnosis Method is available exclusively at Past Life Therapy Center®. You can learn more about the world’s most empowering therapy to heal your mind-body by reading our FAQ page or scheduling a complimentary consultation call.



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