Hi!
I'm Anne-Mary Clayton and this is my story.
I was born sometime in December, 1984 to unknown parents. When I was 7 months old I was found on the steps of the church in Slaidburn located in Lancashire in Northern England. My "visit" there was soon cut short for that I was transferred to the nearest orphanage where I spent a great margin of years trying to fit in with others.
In all honesty I couldn't do it, was only pretending that things around me were perfectly normal given the circumstances. As a young child I was afraid of being left alone - again - and for my own safety I lied to everyone who happened to ask me about my welfare. Caretakers, nurses, doctors, they were all the same to me: an enormous threath. I convinced myself that my parents left me for a reason which must have been the fact that I was different if the secret was revealed I'll be sent away. Maybe even for good this time around.
"I must not tell anyone about the visitors" I kept telling myself. These men and women always showed up unexpectedly and for long time I had no problem with them being around. There were 2 types of visitors who kept coming back, the ones who were looking out for me in daylight and the ones who came at night. They were all nice to me especially the one man with a yellow eye, yet his friends the black eyes made me feel uneasy. The daytimers told me that I mustn't trust those who come after dark and I believed them until the night shifters started to repeat the exact opposite. I had no idea who to trust but I still kept quiet. That is 'til the incident happened.
One night when I was 5 years old Yellow Eye and his company persuaded me to go with them. They offered me protection and a place to stay forever with people I know and trust. In other words, 'security'. The one thing a motherless child like myself wants above all. So I packed my things and left the children's home at night. Nobody was there to stop me which I found odd even back then as a youngling. One thought comforted me: earlier Yellow Eye told me not to worry, he's here to take good care of me so that we can do whatever we wish to.
(🎵 Pat Benetar - Hell is for Children)
I don't remember much after that, only arguing and bodies laying on the floor. For the later image I believed was the making of my imagination. Turns out it wasn't. All the kids and the staff working at that place were murdered for what known to be no reason. The attackers didn't take a thing away, not even the money.
I was in the woods trying to find my way to the rendezvous point however I got lost. It took the police days to find me. By that time the fatigue kicked in and I was almost totally out of it. I still remember a nice rescue-man wrapping me up in a warm, red blanket. It was the calmest moment of my short life.
The detectives working on the case of the massacre came to see me a lot and not just them but people from the media, familiar faces from TV and alike. They all kept questioning me about what happened, why did I leave, did I have any idea about the attack, was I warned or if I can give them a description of my secret visitors. And I kept answering like a good girl. That was the point when I broke and told them every detail: how these unknown people kept checking on me, how they hate each other and how Yellow Eye swayed me into escaping just in the right moment.
The whole story was issued under every medium on the planet. TV, radio, newspapers, magazines, you name it. I was there, "The Girl Who Survived" and a phantom image of Yellow Eye too. The whole shebang was covered left and right for about a few months. The police found nothing, surprising or not. All their leads were proven wrong and the case was soon dropped. With that it was time for me to find a home. That's when I met John.
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