Forgive me...mad few weeks. Thank you for your comments. I hope this chapter is ok...I must have rewritten parts of it at least 10 times and shuffled it around a bunch. I'm not sure I have quite got it right because there are bits I'm attached to that I should maybe just drop but am being stubborn so they are IN there but perhaps shouldn't be. Feels like It's missing something...or perhaps just the writing this chapter has just been too all over the place. It won't be perfect because i haven't had time to proof-read it properly.

I hope you enjoy it though and looking forward to your comments either way. xx

CHAPTER 14

Madison is gone. Now it was just us and the silent one. And her mouth opens to speak. It is a soft husky whisper...

"Remember me forever"

National Forget-Me-Not Day is held Nov 10th to remember friends, family and loved ones. There is a belief that wearers of the flower will not be forgotten by their lovers

The true forget-me-not is a moderately tall, sprawling wildflower that measures approximately 15-60 cm in height. Each radially symmetrical bloom has a fused corolla that opens into five rounded lobes. The flowers are arranged in tightly coiled, rounded clusters that unfurl from pink buds as the flowers progressively bloom into powder-blue petals with a conspicuous, bright yellow centre. They are arranged in rounded, divergent clusters along the length of the branch. They will bloom from early summer to late spring. While the flowers don't have much scent during the day, they are very fragrant in the evening. The stems and leaves of forget-me-nots are oblong, stalkless and covered with tiny hairs. The resemblance of its flower stalks to the tail of a scorpion is how the species got the name, Myosotis scorpioides.

In the language of flowers, the forget-me-not represents faithfulness, true love and remembrance.

She sounds like she hasn't spoken in weeks. Like her voice has almost seized up. Like speaking might even be painful. If it is painful she shows no signs of it. No expression at all. But her words said everything and my heart beats faster.

She remembered...remembered being in the garden, remembered me talking about the language of flowers, remembered me giving her forget-me-nots, remembered me pleading her not to forget me. "The Forget Me Not flower means 'remember me forever'. Don't forget, Jane. Don't forget."

She remembered and in that moment my heart exploded in joy. I was on my feet and in front of her in a second.

"Jane. Is that you?"

The momentary pause sends me back weeks to that waiting game I had played for an answer, any answer. Those moments when she answered by squeezing my hand. The combination of uncertainty and impatience followed by joy and hope.

"Maur?"

It is like music to my ears and medicine to my heart. And no matter what anyone said, I knew in my heart it was Jane. The lack of facial expressions and croaky weak voice would never deter me from this knowing.

"Yes it's me. It's me. I'm here. You are safe. I'm here."

I cup her cheek and look deeply into her sad eyes. She studies my face. Always observing, always watching, saying nothing, expressing nothing. There is no flicker of emotion in her eyes.

"I'm s-sorry I hurt you."

I clasp her hands and feel a prickle of a tear in the corners of my eyes.

I feel Eliza's hand firmly on my shoulder. I know what she is saying with her touch. To let Jane breathe. To let her talk in her own time. To not crowd her. And most importantly to be gentle.

"You didn't sweetie, I'm fine, Jane."

I give Jane a gentle hug, a gentle squeeze, just to show her I am ok. So she can feel it. I treat her like she might break because I am afraid she might disappear again. Madison's words ring through my head as if I was standing underneath church bell '...You keep hurting her...You keep hurting her...You keep hurting her...You keep hurting her.'

"What do you need Jane? What can I do?"

She blinks slowly, like blinking might be exhausting. Her chest rises and falls heavily like it is an effort.

"But...Maur'... You're dead."

It has long been believed that a broken heart can cause death. Science clarified it. In a study titled "The Cardiovascular Toll of Stress", Doctors identified how long-term emotional stress shortens lives by increasing the risk of heart disease. And that sudden emotional shock from acute fear, grief, startling, or anger can cause a stunned heart which in medical terms is when the body produces large amounts of stress hormones including adrenaline, which narrows the main arteries which supply blood to the heart. This paralyses the heart's main pumping chamber can cause death due to life-threatening abnormal heart rhythm.

If anyone should die of a paralyzed heart it should have been me right then. Unfortunately I was not so lucky.

My heart may not have physically paralyzed but emotionally It stopped completely.

My legs barely hold my weight and by the time I am outside the room I am all but on the floor.

Nausea. Increased heart rate, blood pressure, and breathing rate. My nervous system stimulated the adrenal glands, releasing hormones including adrenaline and cortisol. My muscles become tense to keep me alert and my body perspires to cool itself down. It is that well known and uncontrollable flight or fight response humans naturally have in order to keep them alive.

Flight

FLIGHT

"I have to leave." I blurt it through blubbering tears I can't control.

Dr. Hofstede is beside me trying to help me sit up, "What?"

"I am why she won't come out. She thinks she killed me. And I am threatening her recovery."

The words leave my mouth like daggers into my own heart.

My heart needs Jane, needs to stay for her, but my head tells me otherwise.

"We don't know that." Hofstede holds my shoulders facing me like my life depends on hearing him.

"We do know that. You heard Madison. I keep hurting her. ME. No one else..." I am on the verge of breaking into a billion pieces inside. I had no idea how much damage I had done and was still doing to Jane. It was contradictory to my intentions.

"Maura, just stay until we figure this out."

I am clutching his sleeve so tightly my hand has cramped and I'm not sure I can release my grip.

"I - I don't think I can stay."

It's the truth. The anger has vanished...it was replaced with shock and now guilt. Guilt more intense than I have ever experienced before.

It looks like fear to everyone around me. It almost feels like fear.

It hurts to breathe. Like all my organs are crushed by an invisible weight. And I can only take tiny breaths at a time or the pain is unbearable. I want to scream but I can't because there isn't enough air. I want to cry but I have to focus on just getting just enough air in each breath to survive. I gasp for air but it doesn't help, it only causes further pain to my lungs.

"Maura, look at me."

I do. His face is calm, comforting, caring.

"This is really good news. Jane has finally emerged. Now we can help her. You made that happen, no one else did that. She needs you Maura even if she doesn't know it yet."

He still holds onto me firmly not letting me try to run away from him.

I want to run. I want to hide. I want to...

...die.

I could blame Jet before. I could blame the organizations. I could shift the blame to a lot of things...until I could only blame myself.

"It's all m-my fault."

This pain is worse than anger, than hate and bitterness. It is worse than fear. It is worse than when Jane was missing. Worse than anything I have ever experienced. It might even be worse than death.

I have choices. Choices I never wanted to make. Never should have had to make.
The choice to let my emotions force me out the door and back to Boston leaving behind everything that made life worth living. The choice to let logic say goodbye and leave because it is what is best for Jane.
Or the choice to follow my heart and stay and hope that Jane emerges anyway. It is what everyone here thinks is best. For once in my life I don't know. I just don't know.
All I ever wanted what was best for Jane...And no one can answer that for certain. What I desire is certainty.
I am somehow persuaded to stay for tonight and sleep on it. To decide tomorrow what to do. To decide what is best for Jane.
For now, at least, I want to try to enjoy the next few hours with the trio incase I do leave.
To put aside thoughts and feelings and just live in the now, this might be the last time I see them all. Because if I leave and Jane is somehow miraculously healed while I am gone I may never see them again.

And I would miss them.

I would miss the half-awake moments when Katie's lips graze my skin and she pretends it was an accident. Katie is my comfort in both words and touch.

I will miss those rare moments when I see Madison smile a real smile even when she tries to hide it. I still draw my strength from hers.

And I will miss the six year old who cuddles into my side, that I know trusted me more than the usual safe spot under her bed. And when she shares her last piece of pineapple with me. I will even miss the sticky hug that follows it. She reminds me that every moment we have with someone that cares about us is the most beautiful thing in the world.

"I am thinking about leaving for a little while, Maddy."

She stares at the ground, 'What did I do?"

I could tell by her tone alone that she was taking it personally.

We had decided to go for a walk in the gardens just before dinner, I wanted to break the news to her alone. I figured she had seen what had happened earlier and might be able to provide clarity to my decision.

"You didn't do anything sweetheart, but I think I am doing more harm than good here."

She kicked a stone across the path and shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. We walk in silence for a few meters.

"I don't think she meant it. That you hurt her. I think she is just hurtin."

Maybe I had been the one to take it too personally. Or maybe Madison didn't want me to leave.

"I know you saw what happened Madison, you don't have to sugarjacket it."

She looks at me for a moment just like Jane might. A look like she might want to protect me from something. Then she looks away and into the distance.

"You don't know what he did to Jane do you?"

I almost give myself whiplash to look around at her. She never ever wanted to talk about Jane before.

"No, I don't know. Please tell me."

She shrugs "I don't know if she would want me too."

I nod into the silence. Truthfully I don't imagine she would want to burden me with it if she was able tell me herself.

The sun is getting lower in the sky and the warm breeze softly grabs our loose hair and gently pushes it away from us. We walk slowly past the empty pond.

"The physical stuff ain't really nearly as bad as the mental stuff." Maddie starts without prompting, "But used together they are pretty brutal."

I bite my lip to keep myself from speaking.

"He called it white torture cause it don't leave no physical damage."

Repeated torture conditions the person unconsciously, to obey every order at its best, to not get tortured again unnecessarily. In addition, they decide, consciously or unconsciously, after a certain period of time, to surrender their own will, and for the unconditional subjection to the will of the torturer. If this happens, it is called total mind control.

"I didn't reckon she believed anything he said to her anyways no matter what he actually did to her. To us. Jane is tough. She doesn't always need me. Actually she doesn't mean to need me."

She kicks another stone and a darkness creeps across her eyes.

I was sure there was a very unusual and unique relationship between Jane and Madison, just like there is a between the monarch butterfly and the milkweed.
As larvae and then as adults the milkweed butterfly group live a life that is dependent upon the power-source within the milkweed plant for everything! Its sustenance, its protection, its very existence totally revolve around its relationship with the plant for a successful life. The little caterpillars feast on the milkweed leaves and within weeks they grow to over 2700 times their original size. They molt five times and develop their own peculiar caterpillar look. As the caterpillars feast on the plants, the plants generate more leaves to provide for their needs. The blood of the milkweed plant contains a cardiac poison which will sicken or kill most vertebrate animals, yet the bitter fluid does not harm the caterpillar. They must absorb the vital milkweed power in order to defend itself and to allow the little bugs to be successful on life's journey. They must have that key component, the cardiac poison, which they retain into adulthood, to hold within it a defensive authority to shield the insect from its enemies. The Monarch would never survive without the milkweed plant.

"She always kept everything she felt locked up inside until it got too much."

I wish I understood what she meant exactly, but it was typical of Maddy to speak almost cryptically about anything Jet related, and to say just barely enough, for my liking anyway. But with Madison you couldn't push her or her darker attitude would appear. The psychologists believed it was merely the way she processed things when she wasn't the main personality in control.

"In the end he did mess with her head pretty bad."

"Badly."

Damn my internal auto correction.

"Pretty badly. But then it happened, y'know, everything he swore to her would, everything she didn't believe. It affected her worse than we thought it had."

I thought about the conversation in the kitchen. When Jane in that strange voice said "You can't stop me. In fact you can kill her yourself..."

It was a game to Jet. A sick twisted game. And in a way it wouldn't have mattered how that day turned out he still would have won. Because he had already fragmented Jane. He had already created alters and amnesia walls. When the mind of the Monarch victim contains different memory fragments, or even personalities, there's a need for a trigger, which can switch the victims alter from one to another. We would never have had Jane whole again or even have known she wasn't Jane until she herself noticed something was wrong. And that can sometimes take years. Years for a break or memories like dreams to come...those little signs that something is not right.

Madison suddenly bends down and picks up a clump of forget me nots and hands them to me.

I take them. I watch her discreetly wipe a tear that escaped off her cheek.

"You were there when I gave Jane flowers?"

She nods slowly. She doesn't correct me so I know for sure now it was Jane in the garden.

"You were there for it all." I whisper mostly to myself.

"Can't you tell her I am alive? That Jet didn't...that she didn't kill me?"

Madison slowly shakes her head no, "She doesn't hear me, Dr Isles. It doesn't work like that. I often hear her and what she hears and sometimes I see what she sees. Mostly I just feel her. I can't make her come out or stop her doing anything. But even if she could hear me do you really think she'd believe me? A voice inside her head?"

I wondered if Jane thought I was an illusion or possibly a ghost. A memory that had given her flowers and held her hand. What did she think when she watched me in the facility. Did she think she was dreaming, that it was some sort of waking nightmare. Maybe she thought if she truly woke up then I would be gone forever. Maybe that is why she unconsciously allowed Madison almost full control.

The monarch uses the sensory organs on its feet to discern the true milkweed plant from the fake one. The butterfly approaches the plant and waves its front arms around the areas of the flower to 'taste it'. It then knows it is close to home and a place of security, regardless of where it is at that point in time. After the assurance of where it has landed, it plunges into the plant's rich fluid, which some describe as the spirit of the plant, and feeds until it is full. Once its energy has been replenished and its insides comforted, the monarch resumes its journey.

"How am I hurting her if she thinks I am dead?"

"Dunno. Maybe a reminder of what happened I s'pose." She mumbles kicking another stone across the path and into the tall grass.

I know Maddie doesn't mean it to be but it is a kick in the teeth. A reminder I really shouldn't be here. Should never have been here in the first place. If I am Jane's dream and I leave then she has no reason to stay in her half aware state. It is a theory at least.

"How can I get her to believe the truth then?"

Madison stops walking and looks at me carefully, contemplating.

"How long did it take you to convince me you really loved me?"

The butterfly symbol is everywhere in hollywood, on television, music videos and magazines. By way of tattoos, hairpieces, clothing, makeup, CD covers etc. Along with the symbol itself, it's also worth paying attention to how the symbol is portrayed…Two particularly occult meanings are when the butterfly covers one eye – which is symbolic of the Eye of Horus; or is placed over the mouth – which is 'silence' programming.

Music videos will also often associate the symbol of the monarch butterfly with being a rebel which is in fact a clear juxtaposition, given that Monarch programming is the most oppressive system in the world, and the polar opposite of being free and independent.

Victims are literally programmed to be silent, and those involved in the music industry have all taken a vow of silence. They show this programming by a finger over the mouth, it is a code amongst the Illuminati to never reveal the secrets of what they're involved in.

Freemasons are required to take an oath of silence to never disclose secrets, with the penalty of death. The symbol of silence also has ancient roots stretching back to ancient Egypt and Kabbalah.

I don't tell Amy a bedtime story. I wanted to leave her with something magical. Something beautiful and the opposite of the mind control Monarch programs esoteric meaning.

So instead I tell her about butterfly clusters. Maybe it would help them all heal together, or maybe she would remember it one day in the future when she needed it just like my fathers words had stayed with me.

"Did you know that Monarch butterflies migrate in a gigantic cluster that forms the shape of a butterfly. Just like that school of small fish in finding Nemo that together made the shape of a much larger fish."

She reaches out her hand for me to take, she must knows something is different, off with me. I believe children are often more perceptive than adults. She has not been told I might leave, she has been told nothing.

"Experts believe butterflies and fish gather together and unite for safety in numbers."

It is a remarkable discovery, that small fish and also butterflies have a sense of their true identity. To unite to make a larger shape identical to their individual shapes.

Jane's sense of Identity was currently in a group of alters that all together created the shape of Jane, the image of her. When her identity was healed she would hopefully be Jane again in every unique and intricately perfect way.

"What can we learn from this cluster formation?"

She doesn't attempt to answer, just watches me with curiosity. I'm not even sure if she understands what I am saying exactly.

"We can learn that if humans did the same, we could all be united instead of divided. We could all work together for something instead of working for ourselves and we would all be much safer."

She smiles at me and hugs Bass tighter.

I kiss her cheek and tuck her in.

Here is what I will take into my future whatever it may be. Here is what I learned that will benefit others in my path other than Jane.

I learned that one of the best ways to take over the world, is to control people's minds… and to take over a country through the control of the minds.

That millions of dollars have been spent harming people by the thousands through hundreds of programs over decades in order to learn how to control you.

The vast majority of what the public see and hear is controlled by only 6 corporations. Six.

The people involved in this who also own the media can easily twist the truth and defame anyone that talks. Virtually wipe the truth and replace it with what suits.

Also television is used to constantly portray trigger images in order to silently keep the control of victims.

That fear of standing up and out keeps everyone from questioning it. And cognitive dissonance allows us to cleverly ignore it.

That years of careful research and inhumane abuse have resulted in the ability for a few to brainwash the masses via tel-LIE-vision. The exact same mind control techniques that are used in Project Monarch to program mind-controlled celebrity slaves have been used and are being used against all of us, every single day!

And, that those victims are our fellow human beings, many of whom have clearly been abused as children through trauma-based mind control, in order to entertain us while telling us what is right and wrong, what to believe, and what is normal.

Katie was distraught. She emerged the moment the lights went out.

"If you leave then I will be trapped inside forever." The shrill voice comes out of the darkness.

I walk back into Jane's room and sit beside the bed.

"I'm sorry Katie. But if I don't leave then Jane might be the one trapped inside forever."

"Do you love her more than me?"

I smile softly at her and take her hand in mine, ironically it was the same hand I was holding only minutes earlier, "I believe you are one and the same. And I love you more than you will ever know."

The twinkle, the dimples, the loving eyes and the subtle coy smile.

I hug her tightly, it might be the last hug. I relish in it. I allow myself to just relax and enjoy it. When I finally pull away she leans in and places a kiss just on the corner of my mouth.

In a moment of weakness I surrender to her touch and I kiss her softly on the lips. It is soft. It is bittersweet. She closes her eyes. My insides flutter. My heart is weightless. Jane.

It is deep memories and home.

When she does pull away she keeps her eyes closed.

"Thank you." She whispers

"Goodnight" I whisper back.

"Goodbye." She replies.

I will lock away in my heart these memories. Memories of love, love that tastes like half-eaten pineapple, feels like a gentle embrace, and smells like little blue flowers.

I love them...all of them. But preferably them all together as one mind and one body. Besides, I made a promise to Jane. That I would do whatever I had to do to make this right. Jane is what is important.

Jane. My heart calls her name like a standalone rhythm. Boom boom Jane Boom boom Jane.

It's like that one hour tick on an otherwise silent clock.

It is a sharp painful irregularity that I need.

I should probably get it checked out by a doctor.

Anger and sadness are mixed with joy and hope.

Blue tastes like salty tears. Red sounds like home.

That night I pace the halls all over again like when we first arrived here. Old habits die hard I suppose. I am not left alone to wander like I once was. The nurses watch me now. Everyone watches me. I promised to not leave yet. I promised to think it over till tomorrow.

Angela is coming first thing in the morning because they think no one else will be able to get through to me. I don't object. I am depressed and I have been mildly drugged since this mornings session. On the outside I am calmer and can breathe but inside my thoughts continue undeterred.

There is a sense of relief in knowing that Jane is still in there. Her brain activity decreased the moment Madison left and it was only those few moments we had with Jane before she stopped responding again and it was several moments after that when Madison returned and turned on her chair with her back to us and arms crossed angrily.

"If you want her, if you want to keep her, it will cost you everything you have."
Did Jet's words back then continue to ring true even today, even after he was long gone. Would it continue to cost me for the rest of my life? Did I have to leave her forever so Red would be Red again? Would I continue to suffer until I existed no more.

I wondered how the world could be so messed up, and how most people barely noticed, how everybody assumed somebody else was looking out for us all, somebody else would speak out and fix things for us. How has I not seen the corruption before, not seen the conclusive evidence of satanic ritual abuse and torture on my table before. Why had I believed handing off a report with my findings was now for somebody else to take notice and do something about it.

I tried to list off the feelings going on inside me but there were too many. And they were cycling to quickly. It had been impossible to sleep. Maybe the light sedative had eased the pain because I no longer felt like I couldn't breath...it had even eased the guilt just a little.

I know too well how guilt feels at full-force. It makes your heart beat too fast and your body heavy. Your brain won't stop thinking the same thoughts over and you can't let it go.

It had been weeks now. And the hope that everything would eventually get better like last time that had once fluttered around my mind like an uncontrollable pest caught inside a small prison, was well and truly drowned.

It wasn't meant to be this way. Good things were meant to happen to good people...who taught me that...why would someone teach me such an impossible lie...imprint it so heavily into my belief system at such a young an impressional age. The lie was the reason I struggled to accept the reality, struggled to move forward. It was like I was still waiting for the good thing to happen...the happy ending, the and they lived happily ever after...But really how often does that happen outside of rom-coms and action features. How often in real life do the bad guys get caught and the good people live a life full of good things? That wrong belief was the very foundation of the bitterness.

And bitterness as a chronic and pervasive state of smoldering resentment, regarded as one of the most destructive and toxic of human emotions. Bitterness feeds off of itself. The more bitter you are, the more miserable you feel; and the more miserable you feel, the more bitter you get. By repeatedly ruminating over how we and others have been victimized it eventually defines an essential part of who we are. And so we'll end up becoming victims not so much of anyone else but, principally, of ourselves.

The guilt was like icicles in my heart and the bitterness kept them frozen in place.

The following morning Angela finally cornered me in the common room after my several attempts to strategically avoid her. When she arrived this morning she had spent almost an hour with Dr. Hofstede and then set out on a mission to find me. I didn't want to be found, I didn't want to see her. I was afraid she would see me, see what had been going on inside me, the anger at the world, the guilt at myself, the sadness. My mother wasn't around much but I naturally suspected mothers instinctively knew things about their children surrogate or otherwise. I didn't want to be questioned. I didn't want her to try to persuade me to stay. I didn't want her to know what I was doing to myself. But I couldn't escape so I would have to face whatever tune was playing.

"Maura, Are you alright honey?"

One sentence and all I wanted to do was cry. She had the ability to allow me to feel loved and valued as much as Jane could. And her own daughter was the one that needed help, yet she cared about my wellbeing. They were the same in that way.

"What's wrong? You can talk to me, about anything sweetheart?"

Do I start with the fact that her daughter is here because of me and might be here for a long time still because of me, or do I start with how angry I am about it all.

"I'm just so frustrated with everything, Angela. I don't want to dump this on you, there is enough going on for you. I'm sorry. Don't worry about me. Jane needs you."

I'm not sure I meant to reveal so much.

I loved that she cared and hated that the anger tried to leave me because of the conflicting emotions. They both hurt my chest in almost identical ways. I wonder if that is what it means when they say love conquers all. Would I have to let all the bitter feelings go to feel the good ones again and again?

"Never be sorry Maura. And I do worry about you."

She pulls me into a tight hug and I naturally stiffen at first. The uncontrollable burning under my skin begins to cool...it could all disappear if I just let it...if I could just let it go...

"I am just so angry at absolutely everything." I breathe into her now damp frilly collar and her grasp tightens even more around me. 'Including myself' My thoughts finish the sentence for me.

"Oh baby, I understand. I really do." I'm not sure she does but I have no idea what Dr. Hofstede told her about Jane or myself.

I don't respond. Why was I holding onto all the negative feelings. Why was I leaving the door open to anger and his nasty friends. Was I gaining anything by holding onto them or did I risk losing everyone and everything in my life.

She pulls away and faces me directly. "Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. You can either be bitter or better but bitterness will steal your sweetness and destroy your ability to love and feel loved."

My mind tries to tell me it's too late too choose between bitter or better...I already became bitter...and maybe I don't want to be better or sweet. Maybe I needed to hold onto it. Maybe I can feel better by making someone that deserves it to suffer. To vindicate Jane. Maybe my heart will be able to be better and normal again if I just...

"I am hurting Jane" I whisper

"Honey, Jane needs you, the sweet and loving you, right now. She really does. Nothing will stop her forgiving you, nothing will keep you apart forever. And Jane would never ever want to be the cause of your bitterness."

The tune was Beethoven's ninth symphony. It was honest and moving and profound.

And the bitterness melts away like ice in a firestorm.

...to be continued...