Welcome to the present, little girl. Things are better here.

Monday night/ Tuesday morning was very miserable. I was broadsided by all the pent-up feelings that had been plaguing the little girl while she witnessed Rambo and the teenage girl say and do things that she was terrified might tear her away from her mother (therapist). I barely slept, I couldn't eat, and I woke up my poor husband several times. There was a lot of crying and panic. It was horrible. Then, when I got up, there were the smells of the grandmother's kitchen and I had to hide out in my room and my husband had to take care of me. A flashback was stalking me. I could feel its rancid breath on my face and I was fighting to stay here. I finally decided to call Aunt P. Only I didn't. I didn't call her because I called the grandmother instead. Their phone numbers are extremely similar and I didn't know I had done it until the grandmother answered the phone. I felt more panic at first, and then... I talked to her and I talked to the grandfather, too. I heard their old voices and I heard them talk about how far away we live from each other, how poor the grandfather's memory had become, how the grandmother had fallen in the kitchen... Safe. I am safe. They are old now, I am far away from their house, and no one is going to do anything bad to me. We don't even have cellars here in Florida. The water table is too high. I could breathe again by the time I hung up the phone. I was finally able to eat enough food to actually fill my stomach and give me some energy. I washed my hair. Maybe I will be okay.