Demi
Senior Registered
Hello everyone...
These are my dreams and experiences of a possible past life as a boy born around 1922 and living in what appears to be Berlin.
I have been having PL experiences for 3-4 years (and longer) from different historical periods. They are often very vivid and emotional.
The few memories I have is from my early childhood: I am playing in a big city park on a trip with my parents. I am playing with other boys in the back yard and on the street, teasing the girls.
The neighborhood we live in has a cobble stone street, the row of houses on the sunny side of the street. The houses have small gardens with flowers. The sun shines there all afternoon. The other side of the street is in the shade and chilly. A small brick church is there, we kids like to play on the stairs. The priest is a stern man who wears a long, black robe and he does not like us playing there; he comes out and chases us away. Sometimes we go to the junkyard behind the houses and play there instead.
I am 4 or 5 years old and loving everything about knights. I put mom's cleaning bucket on my head using it like a helmet, and run around playing that I am a knight. I often stumble into things around the house, as I can't see much with the helmet on. One day my dad gets mad because I run into the table where he is sitting. He hits me hard on top of the bucket – Blam! From then on, I never put the bucket all the way over my head. Instead, I use it like a hat. I hear my mom calling my name, it sounds like "Fritzi"
I am around 5 years old. Father is drunk again, he is yelling and hitting on the table. I sit with Mom under the big wooden table in the living room. She holds her arms around me. I promise myself that when I grow up, I am going to protect her.
Father is a worker in a factory. As long as he still has got his job, we are doing okay but he drinks a little bit too much. When he gets fired his drinking increases. He is having short term day jobs and is often sitting back home. I am afraid of him; he is unpredictable and gets angry about anything when he is drunk. I sneak around on my toes.
I know that I cannot count on my mother. She withdraws when father is in a bad mood, waiting for things to settle down on their own; she rarely stands up for me. I must deal with it alone.
I see my dad hovering over me, I am scared. He is so big, like a big monster, I am on the floor, he has hit me and I hate him, I am just so scared, shaky, all over my body.
I run to my room, my room in the attic of the small house that the factory workers families live in, closing the door after me. I find my big pillow on the bed, pull it out from under the covers. I hit and squeeze it over and over again and I keep hitting it until the down is flying around the room.
My mom sees it later on and she asks what happened.
”There is a hole”, I lie to her.
I am 10 years old, going to school. The school building is 4 story tall, red brick with arches. The school yard is in front of the building, as one enters the main gate. A cobble stone street with big oak trees led up to the gate. From the 4th floor you could see the rooftops of the eastern Berlin neighborhoods as well as the factories, from which foul smell sometimes carried over.
There are a lot of kids in the school, divided into a boy's and a girl's section. The classrooms are painted in a dirty yellowish color. When the teacher gets mad, he or she asks you to stretch out your fingers in front of her and hits them with a ruler. Sometimes the teacher called me up to the board and asked me questions... The board is too big to see what she have written from up close, so I am just standing there confused, hoping for it to end as quickly as possible.
One day when there is no one around, instead of going to the washroom, I pee on the wall of the school building. I feel it is a little dangerous and naughty. I walk away giggling because nobody had seen me! Sometimes the boys fight in the school yard.
I do not like being at home. My father would get mad at me and hit me and my mom would stand in the doorjamb of the kitchen. That was when I am small; when I am older she wouldn't even come that close. Anything could set my dad off, it was not possible to know. I knew if I cry it will get worse, so I taught myself not to. I always hope that my mom would come out running in the last moment and save me. She never does.
I am around 14 and having a job. I am delivering bottles of milk around the neighborhood for "Molke", my boss, and he is very strict. It is some kind of dairy, I am not sure if Molke is his real name or a nick name we call him, or the name of the dairy or something... One day he fires me without reason.
TO BE CONTINUED...
DEMI
These are my dreams and experiences of a possible past life as a boy born around 1922 and living in what appears to be Berlin.
I have been having PL experiences for 3-4 years (and longer) from different historical periods. They are often very vivid and emotional.
The few memories I have is from my early childhood: I am playing in a big city park on a trip with my parents. I am playing with other boys in the back yard and on the street, teasing the girls.
The neighborhood we live in has a cobble stone street, the row of houses on the sunny side of the street. The houses have small gardens with flowers. The sun shines there all afternoon. The other side of the street is in the shade and chilly. A small brick church is there, we kids like to play on the stairs. The priest is a stern man who wears a long, black robe and he does not like us playing there; he comes out and chases us away. Sometimes we go to the junkyard behind the houses and play there instead.
I am 4 or 5 years old and loving everything about knights. I put mom's cleaning bucket on my head using it like a helmet, and run around playing that I am a knight. I often stumble into things around the house, as I can't see much with the helmet on. One day my dad gets mad because I run into the table where he is sitting. He hits me hard on top of the bucket – Blam! From then on, I never put the bucket all the way over my head. Instead, I use it like a hat. I hear my mom calling my name, it sounds like "Fritzi"
I am around 5 years old. Father is drunk again, he is yelling and hitting on the table. I sit with Mom under the big wooden table in the living room. She holds her arms around me. I promise myself that when I grow up, I am going to protect her.
Father is a worker in a factory. As long as he still has got his job, we are doing okay but he drinks a little bit too much. When he gets fired his drinking increases. He is having short term day jobs and is often sitting back home. I am afraid of him; he is unpredictable and gets angry about anything when he is drunk. I sneak around on my toes.
I know that I cannot count on my mother. She withdraws when father is in a bad mood, waiting for things to settle down on their own; she rarely stands up for me. I must deal with it alone.
I see my dad hovering over me, I am scared. He is so big, like a big monster, I am on the floor, he has hit me and I hate him, I am just so scared, shaky, all over my body.
I run to my room, my room in the attic of the small house that the factory workers families live in, closing the door after me. I find my big pillow on the bed, pull it out from under the covers. I hit and squeeze it over and over again and I keep hitting it until the down is flying around the room.
My mom sees it later on and she asks what happened.
”There is a hole”, I lie to her.
I am 10 years old, going to school. The school building is 4 story tall, red brick with arches. The school yard is in front of the building, as one enters the main gate. A cobble stone street with big oak trees led up to the gate. From the 4th floor you could see the rooftops of the eastern Berlin neighborhoods as well as the factories, from which foul smell sometimes carried over.
There are a lot of kids in the school, divided into a boy's and a girl's section. The classrooms are painted in a dirty yellowish color. When the teacher gets mad, he or she asks you to stretch out your fingers in front of her and hits them with a ruler. Sometimes the teacher called me up to the board and asked me questions... The board is too big to see what she have written from up close, so I am just standing there confused, hoping for it to end as quickly as possible.
One day when there is no one around, instead of going to the washroom, I pee on the wall of the school building. I feel it is a little dangerous and naughty. I walk away giggling because nobody had seen me! Sometimes the boys fight in the school yard.
I do not like being at home. My father would get mad at me and hit me and my mom would stand in the doorjamb of the kitchen. That was when I am small; when I am older she wouldn't even come that close. Anything could set my dad off, it was not possible to know. I knew if I cry it will get worse, so I taught myself not to. I always hope that my mom would come out running in the last moment and save me. She never does.
I am around 14 and having a job. I am delivering bottles of milk around the neighborhood for "Molke", my boss, and he is very strict. It is some kind of dairy, I am not sure if Molke is his real name or a nick name we call him, or the name of the dairy or something... One day he fires me without reason.
TO BE CONTINUED...
DEMI
I said that knowing it was East Berlin could help the original poster of this thread narrow it down to specific locations if they're interested in doing so. :laugh:
Thank you so much for sharing them with us. It's fascinating the way even "troubled" lives can shed light on who we are today.