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  • I lived in Hindhead in Surrey when I was twelve to thirteen years old.

    Home was always hectic and jarring; so I often escaped to wander around the surrounding woods.

    In my head I was travelling on a unicorn in Narnia. A heavenly magical world where I could escape the constant demands of my mother.

    I wonder now if I spent too much time dreaming.

    One day my aunt and uncle came to visit us. I could not deal with these adults who had treated me so badly when I was eight years old. Whilst my mother

    was in hospital for six months they treated me like a maid. I had no visits from my older sister and my father. Just left to cope on my own.

    When our parents sent me out to play with my ten year old cousin I told her, whilst I stood frozen like a statue, I was really in Narnia and I would not hear

    her if she spoke to me.

    Years later she told me she had nightmares about me in my frozen state. My performance had been very real for her.

    Was I as cruel as C S Lewis's white Witch?

    Image: a water painting I finished today
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