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BARBARA: The Story of a UFO Investigator - Exopolitics Hongkong

BARBARA: The Story of a UFO Investigator - Exopolitics Hongkong

BARBARA: The Story of a UFO Investigator - Exopolitics Hongkong

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Barbara: <strong>The</strong> <strong>Story</strong> <strong>of</strong> a <strong>UFO</strong> <strong>Investigator</strong> 21<br />

round room. I was surrounded by the unseen visitors. I<br />

could hear their unspoken demands. I was just six but I<br />

knew what they were telling me to do wasn’t right. I felt<br />

heat rising in my cheeks.<br />

“But I don’t want to take <strong>of</strong>f my dress,” I looked for the<br />

being who spoke to me but saw no one. “Not in here. Not<br />

in front <strong>of</strong> everyone. Mama says I should only take <strong>of</strong>f my<br />

dress in my bedroom or in the bathroom. I’m not a baby<br />

anymore.”<br />

<strong>The</strong> words being spoken into my mind soothed me<br />

somewhat and in seconds, before I realized what had<br />

happened I stood dressed in only my white cotton panties. I<br />

looked down at myself and crossed my hands in front <strong>of</strong><br />

my chest.<br />

“Why are you doing this to me I’ve been a good girl.<br />

This isn’t fun.”<br />

Reassurance warmed my thoughts.<br />

“Special light treatment.”<br />

“A very special nutrient light.”<br />

“Some <strong>of</strong> your people call it an ultra violet light.”<br />

<strong>The</strong> ultra violet light was so strong that my panties<br />

looked to be a bright glowing white. I stared at the shining<br />

beige walls, then at the huge eye-like openings which<br />

circled the room high on the walls. Now I understood that it<br />

was okay to be undressed.<br />

“Is this your bathroom It’s all tile.”<br />

<strong>The</strong> aliens projected laughter into my mind.<br />

“Not a bathroom. Think <strong>of</strong> it as a doctor’s <strong>of</strong>fice. <strong>The</strong><br />

doctor wants to help you.”<br />

“I don’t like doctors.”<br />

“<strong>The</strong>n it’s okay to call the room a bathroom. You can<br />

call your treatment a bath <strong>of</strong> light.”<br />

Something was handed to me. My hands closed around<br />

the object. It felt rubbery, with glass in it. I held it up.<br />

“What... ”<br />

<strong>The</strong> answering thought interrupted my question.

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