But now, in this world, the force that had dogged her life since childhood was becoming palpable, so real that she could almost taste it; she could feel its cloying presence permeating her being, as intimate and violating as rape.
Even as she began to think of it in those terms, or rather, as such images forced themselves upon her, intruded upon her thoughts, old memories became intermixed, as though this soul-destroying force that dogged her, and her old experiences, were one and the same. The memories, or impressions, began to become stronger, more physical, trying to increase their hold on her, and she began to struggle, terrified, desperate . . .
She felt a heavy weight on top of her, and hands, someone else’s, interfering with her, pinning her hands, pulling her legs apart- her own parents or demons; she couldn’t tell the difference-
Outraged, violated, she began screaming, struggling wildly to break free-
As though frightened off by her cries, the phantoms drew away; but she could still feel their presence; they merely waited for another opportunity . . .
By degrees she became aware that her room was in near darkness, though it was very bright outside. Evidently her room faced north. The breeze coming in through the window above her bed disturbed the light curtains; the shutters had been opened wide. The air bore a tang of early morning, and from outside, occasional gusts of wind hissed through nearby trees, a timeless, haunting sound that was vaguely reminiscent of the quiet roll of breakers upon some distant beach.