Born to be a King

- Harry AnderS -
Dutch psychotherapist and alternative writer

'Born to be a King'
- by Harry AnderS -

An inspirational fantasy

http://www.harryanders.com
harry@harryanders.com

Chapter 1 ended with:

I started to scream myself, but woke up, trembling all over and in shock.
Just before I was awake, I heard a voice somewhere in my head, telling me:

"He NEEDS you."

Again I sensed that same feeling of being in total harmony, as if my brother, Joshie, was around and watching...
Suddenly I was absolutely sure I had heard the voice of Jack, the former owner of my house. Don't ask me how I knew it was him...
I could clearly feel him around, and it was a very reassuring feeling. Everything was all right now. I had received his message, and now I should go back to sleep.
Within a few seconds, I drifted into a sound and dreamless sleep again.

Chapter 2. A kindred soul, meeting little Harry, and maybe I am too egotistic.

The morning sun, abundantly shining through a crack in the curtains, woke me up.
At first, I had no idea where I was, and I looked around in wonder at the strange bedroom I was in...
After a couple of seconds, I started to remember my new house, the five children, my nightmare, and Jack's voice in my head.
I left my bed, got a bottle of shampoo from one of the cardboard boxes, and took the only bath towel I could find.
I showered, dressed casually, and went downstairs to make some breakfast and my first cup of coffee.
I grinned at myself, thinking 'maybe I should do something about my coffee addiction...'

I took my cup of coffee to the porch, secretly hoping to see the children...
However, they seemed to have vanished. Everything was silent, even in the back of the garden.
Where were they? Would I see them again?
Maybe, I had scared them too much, by leaving them alone all of a sudden?

I sat down on my folding chair, and silently sipped my coffee.
Now and then, I looked around, hoping to see one of the children, but nobody showed up.
After a while, I started to think about what had been happening yesterday...
Again, I saw my five children, curiously huddling together at my gate, and suddenly tumbling into my driveway...
Fortunately, I liked children. I always enjoyed working with them and helping them overcome their problems and fears. I thought I was a good therapist, with a lot of love and compassion for my little clients.

I relived how I started to laugh; and, one by one, the children entered my front garden, still being a bit wary.
Suddenly, the oldest boy craned his neck, looked around, and asked where 'Harry' was.
I was a trained psychotherapist, always in control of my feelings and reflecting on my actions, but that single word 'Harry' nearly brought me to tears...
Of course, 'Harry' was my own first name, and I had known several other 'Harry's' in my life, but they had never stirred such strong feelings in my heart.
How strange...
What was even stranger, I had a feeling as if somebody else had been planning this meeting...
Maybe Jack, the former owner of my house and the Big Friend of that little burnt boy, had a hand in it?
However, Jack was dead, and I didn't really believe in 'ghosts' or 'spirits'...

After I reassured the children I would not betray their trust, using the old 'children's promise', John suddenly threw himself onto my lap and let all his defenses down, crying his heart out.
Many children had cried on my lap and in my arms, but never before had I felt such an absolute trust, as if John and I had known each other for ages, as if we were kindred souls, as if we had been waiting for each other for a long time and finally met again...
Maybe, my feelings had to do with a so-called 'reincarnation'? Did John and I know each other from our past lives?
I didn't really believe in living more than one life, but my feelings didn't go away...

I decided to do something more useful, and took the empty cup to the kitchen.
Still thinking, I started to stack away the next pile of boxes, wondering where the children and their little friend would be now...
What would they be doing? Would they be thinking of me too? Maybe they had already forgotten about me?
Would I ever see them back? Or, would they be mad at me after I left them alone on the porch, and would they try to avoid my house from now on...
One hopeful thing was that, after my nightmare, Jack's voice had told me that little Harry needed me... or did I make up that voice myself, in my dream? I wasn't sure...

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, sounding too loud and harshly shaking me out of my reveries.
I left my pile of boxes and sauntered to the front door, planning to brush off the unwelcome sales representative who would be trying to sell me something I wasn't interested in at all...
I peeked through the little window in the door... and saw John, patiently waiting in my front garden, nervously fumbling his fingers.
My heart leapt up in my chest enthusiastically, and I felt very happy to see him!
The children hadn't forgotten me, and maybe I should still be able to meet that burnt little boy...

I opened the door, smiling broadly, and invited the still waiting John in.
He looked at me, hesitantly, showing fear and pain in his deep brown eyes, and mumbled:

"Can I... err... sorry, may I have a talk with you, please?"

Why did I suddenly feel like a teenager in love?
That certainly was not my usual behavior! How strange...
I stepped out of the way to let John in; and told him, still smiling:

"Yes, of course you can have a talk with me! In fact, I am very pleased to see you, because I want to have a talk with you too. Come in, and let's go to the kitchen!"

John followed me to the kitchen, hesitantly, and keeping a small distance.
On the way, I snatched a spare folding chair from the hallway closet. Fortunately, I had purchased a couple of them, to be prepared for unexpected visitors if necessary...
I unfolded the chair; and both of us sat down at the kitchen table, looking at each other, not sure how to go on.
I decided to try to break the ice, by offering him a drink:

"Sorry, I don't have many drinks, but maybe I can brew us some tea, coffee, milk, or hot chocolate?"

"Err... could I have some milk, please? I'm not fond of chocolate."

"Yes, of course. Please, help yourself from the refrigerator, while I'm brewing myself another cup of coffee."

    John went to the refrigerator and poured himself a glass of milk, while I brewed my second cup of brown poison.
We sipped our drinks in silence, now and then looking at each other, still being unsure how to open our conversation...
    Finally, I took my last sip of coffee, put the empty cup onto the table, and told John:

    "I want to apologize for my behavior. I didn't want to leave you alone like that, but those words, 'freak' and 'alien', made me remember my own horrible youth..."

I told John everything, feeling I could trust him and that he would understand me.
I told him about my little brother, Joshie, burning his hair and his clothes while trying to light a candle, my panicking, and an ambulance taking him to the hospital.
I told him how I used to visit a white and silent mummy every day in the hospital while they tried to rescue him, and how after five months he returned home as a mute cripple.
I told him about my parents blaming me for little Joshie's ordeal, and imposing on me to take him with me when and wherever I went.
I told him how all those eyes were staring at us; and how all my friends were laughing at my little brother and calling him a 'freak' and an 'alien'...
Finally, I told him about Joshie's death, about my feelings of guilt and shame, about all my humiliations, and about the still lasting fire in my soul...

I looked out of the window, staring at the sparrows that were still chasing each other through the backyards.
However, I didn't really see them, as my thoughts were lingering in the past...
My eyes filled with tears and started to drip; but I didn't feel their wetness, still dwelling in my own sad world...

Suddenly, I had two comforting arms around my neck, and a small hand tenderly stroked my wet face.
After a moment, John pressed his own face against mine; and our tears mingled together.
I pulled him closer, and he trustfully settled onto my lap.
Together, we waited until our sobs diminished...

At last, my bad memories slowly faded away, and I started to feel better.
I took a clean handkerchief out of my pocket, and carefully dried John's eyes, and mine...
We looked at each other, at the same time, and both of us started to grin:

"You are such a cry-baby..."

"Yeah, and you are such a cry-grown-up..."

John stuck out his tongue, hopped off my lap, and offered me a warm kiss.
I really started to love that boy, who more and more felt as a dear friend!
Together, we went to the sink to wash our faces, teasingly splashing some water at each other.
I took the only dry towel I could find; and we dried ourselves, playfully mock fighting to try to have a bit more of the same towel.
Finally, we sat down again at the kitchen table, and I told him:

"Thank you for listening to my story and comforting me. I think I needed your support. You are like a thirteen-year-old cuddle bear with a very big heart!"

"You are welcome, sir, and I needed YOUR support too. I think you are a big cuddle bear yourself, with an enormous heart, and I like you very much...
"All of us were so afraid you would be angry with us... Nobody had any idea why you left us alone all of a sudden, but now I can fully understand why you did it. Thank you for telling me your sad story...
"I couldn't sleep all night from nervousness; and, at last, Harry was irritated and dived into his own bed, because I was keeping him awake...
"Besides, I wanted to tell Harry about yesterday; but, obviously, he already knew what had happened."

"So Harry was spying on us yesterday?"

"I suppose so, because he is very good at spying. He told me you saw him in the bushes and waved at him, but he was too scared and ran away."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry I have blown that..."

    "No, you have not! Now Harry knows you are accepting him and caring about him. However, he is very afraid of being disappointed again. You know, Jack was everything to him. Officially, Harry is living in our house; but, in reality, he was living with Jack. He had his own room in Jack's house, and all his clothes were there too. Jack bought him everything he needed. Jack comforted him when he had to go to the hospital for his next operation, and visited him there every day. Jack was his father, his mother, and his best friend, all in one...
    "He has to go back to the hospital next week. This time, the doctors will try to give him a bigger nose and artificial lips. He has been in the hospital a couple of times before, but he never felt so scared! He misses Jack really badly. Jack always cheered him up, and let him see the positive side of everything...
    "Two months ago, in the middle of the night, Jack sent Harry in a hurry to our house to wake up my parents, because he didn't feel too well. By the time we arrived here, Jack was dead; but he was lying on his bed with a smile on his face, as if he knew he had done the right thing by sending Harry away...
    "Since that night, Harry lives with us, and he sleeps in my room. Every night, he crawls into my bed. It's a secret, and nobody else should know, but Harry used to sleep in Jack's bed every night. He told me he can feel Jack around now and then, and Jack even told him in a dream that he approves of the new owner of his house. I think that has to be you..."

John looked at me, hesitantly, and showing a hint of fear in his eyes. How would I react?
I was hesitating too... Could I tell John that I had been feeling Jack around myself? How would John react?
I decided to trust my newly found friend, and told him:

"Yesterday, I felt Jack around too, after I went back to the porch. I think he even pointed me to the bushes in my backyard where Harry was hiding...
"Tonight, I had a nightmare; and, after I woke up, I thought I heard Jack's voice somewhere in my head...
"I'm glad your little brother is feeling his Big Friend around too, and even dreaming about him."

"I think I'm very lucky I've found you, because I'm liking my little brother a lot, and I really hope you and he will be friends...
"Harry needs a Big Friend in his life, he simply can't cope without one!"

I nodded, and decided again to do everything I could to help that poor little boy, who seemed to need a Big Friend in his life...
Maybe, that was exactly what Jack's intention had been? Had Jack arranged this meeting? Had he known that a therapist was going to live in his house?
However, I still didn't really believe in 'life after death' or 'messages from beyond'. Dead was dead...
I decided to invite John's little brother for a visit:

"John? Do you know where your little brother is now? Can you ask him to visit me? I really want to meet him...
"Maybe, you will have to tell him first that I'm already used to a boy with a burnt face, because of my own burnt little brother."

"Oh yes, I will do that! Thank you, thank you very much, for wanting to meet Harry. I will bring him here, without giving him a chance to back off again!"

John jumped up at me; trustingly allowing me to catch him in my arms in midair, making my poor old spine groan with the effort...
He threw his arms around my neck and his legs around my waist, with a beaming face.
I threw my arms around his body, holding him close, and slowly cradling him.
I started to love my so spontaneous and affectionate little friend more and more!

After a while, we let go of each other, both of us grinning.
John offered me a warm kiss, turned around, and went to the table.
He rinsed his glass in the sink, put the milk back into the refrigerator, and hasted outside...

Suddenly, the kitchen was very empty, now that John was gone.
However, I didn't feel alone, because I had a sense as if I still had some company...
Again, I sensed my brother Joshie around, as if we were together and in harmony with each other.
It was a strange but comforting feeling, as if everything was all right...

    My eyes were drawn towards a corner of the kitchen, and I thought I was faintly seeing something vague and misty.
The mist looked like sort of colored steam; and, slowly, it started to take shape into the hazy form of a man.
The man looked around fifty years old, with dark brown hair, deep brown eyes, and a very warm smile. He looked like John...
    The man smiled at me; and told me, his voice seemingly coming from somewhere in my head:

    "Thank you! You did the right thing."

Was this for real? Did I really see a 'ghost', or a 'spirit'? I could hardly believe it.
Its form was very vague and transparent, making me doubt again. The picture was too faint, nearly non-existent. Maybe I was making up the whole thing?
My heart was sure I was seeing Jack, the former owner of my house; but my brain wasn't ready to accept it...
After a moment of doubt, I decided to play along, and promised Jack, by thinking in my head:

"I will do the best I can..."

His answer came promptly:

"I know. I trust you. Just listen to your heart."

The vague mist disappeared, leaving me very confused...
Was this for real? Had I really been communicating with a spirit?
I looked around, doing my utmost best to see the ghost again, but the kitchen stayed empty...
Nobody showed up, even after I tried to fantasize Jack again in that vague mist.
Maybe, it hadn't been my imagination after all?
Or, was I becoming insane and hallucinating? However, I was familiar with those symptoms, and was sure I didn't have such a problem...

I shook my head, and went back to my pile of boxes, trying to divert my thoughts.
This time, I also found a couple of my so needed tissues, hidden in one of the halfway emptied boxes!
I put them away, to be ready for the moment I needed them again...

Half an hour later, the doorbell rang.
I rushed to the front door and opened it, suddenly feeling nervous...
Five children expectantly looked up at me, huddling together in front of the door.
A sixth child shyly tried to hide from my view, gently pushed forward by Marrie.

"What a pleasant surprise!" I exclaimed, beckoning them in,
"Please, come in, and maybe I can offer you a drink?"

I went back to the kitchen, on the way collecting five more folding chairs from the hallway closet.
One by one, the children hesitantly entered the house and followed me.
I put all the chairs around the kitchen table, and turned around...

Six children were huddling together in a corner, giggling and looking shy.
Five of them looked up at me, trying to read my eyes.
I could barely see the sixth one, still hiding behind the huddle...

John had placed himself in front of the herd. He smiled broadly and looked proud.
Thomas was leaning slightly into John, as if looking for some protection.
Mark and Chrissy were both giggling and pushing each other.
Marrie had draped her arms around a struggling child that was trying to hide from my view...

For a moment, I wondered about his hair, being of a light brownish color.
The children had told me little Harry was a Gypsy boy, and I was sure Gypsies ought to have dark hair...
Could it be one of his parents had been of a foreign origin?
Fortunately, he didn't look too much like my own little brother, who had lost all of his hair in the fire and was completely bald...

I beckoned the children to the kitchen table:

"Please sit down, and I will take your order for a drink."

John went to the refrigerator, already feeling at home, and carried the milk to the table.
I got some drinking glasses from a cupboard, and put them in front of the chairs.
John sat down, and poured himself a glass of milk. He motioned Thomas to join him...
Thomas looked at the others hesitantly... but he went to the table and sat down, very close to John.
I chuckled, and asked Thomas:

"What would you like to order: milk, hot chocolate, tea, or coffee?"

Thomas voted for hot chocolate; so I took the milk from the table and poured some into a small saucepan.
When I turned around, Mark and Chrissy had already joined the others at the table, still giggling.
Marrie tried to approach the table; having a struggling little boy in her arms and gently pushing him forward.
He seemed to be very frightened, and desperately looked up at me...

I felt irresistibly drawn into two very bright and deep blue eyes.
Fascinating eyes; that radiated intelligence, sadness, self-consciousness, and fear, all in one.
His eyes immediately captivated me, and I felt overwhelmed by an intense feeling of compassion for this so frightened child.
I forgot the saucepan, sank onto one knee to be on level with him, and invitingly opened my arms:

"Hi, you must be Harry... I'm happy you are joining my other friends. May I have a hug, please?"

He looked shocked, and stared at me open mouthed...
However, his face brightened, and his wonderful eyes started to beam.
He stared deep into my eyes, seeing right through me. I could feel him search my soul for sincerity...
After a moment, he seemed to make a decision. He straightened his shoulders, and freed himself from Marrie's arms.
Step by step, he approached me, until I could feel his body warmth. There he stopped...
I was able to read him like an open book. I saw a lot of sadness and loneliness in his eyes, but also a deep longing, and still some fear... could he really trust me?

I closed my arms around him, and gently pulled him into a hug.
He didn't resist, but let himself go with a deep sigh. He took the last step towards me, melted into me, and closed his eyes...
I felt overwhelmed by an intense feeling of love and tenderness, and my eyes started to tear up.
I couldn't help it. This little boy was stirring the most powerful emotions in my heart I had ever felt.
At that moment, I thought I had a strong paternal feeling for this vulnerable child, that so trustfully settled into my arms...

I held him in my arms and slowly cradled him, marveling in the intense feelings of pure love that made my heart jump with joy.
It felt, as if I had known this child all my life, as if we had been waiting for each other and finally were reunited, as if I he was my son...
I think little Harry had the same feelings, because he sighed again, and tried to melt into me even deeper.
Without thinking, I kissed his forehead, as I always used to do with my brother Joshie and with my own daughters.
He tilted his head, looked in my eyes, smiled, and kissed me back.
Two severely damaged small lips found mine; and pressed against them, eagerly, as if he tried to tell me something...

I was severely shocked, froze on the spot, and didn't know what to do...
To me, with my puritanical upbringing, kissing on the lips was nearly a sin when it wasn't your own flesh and blood that did it.
Only my wife was allowed to do that. Even my own daughters never kissed me on the lips...
I felt very uneasy, and hesitated. What should I do now?
I did nothing, and waited...

Slowly, little Harry withdrew his lips from mine.
He shuddered, and started to cry.

I was surprised, and didn't understand why he was crying all of a sudden.
What had happened? Maybe, his emotions were becoming too much for him...
I decided to give him some space, as I always did with my little clients.
I lifted him off the floor, and took him to the table to join the others.
I sat him on my lap, and helpfully turned him around to face his friends...

Immediately, he started to struggle and desperately tried to get away:

"NOOOOO...!" he screamed, fighting himself free.

He stumbled to the door, tripping over his own feet.
He rushed out of the house without looking back, leaving the door wide open...

For heaven's sake, what happened?
I looked at John, but he was as bewildered as the rest...
What was the problem? Did I do something wrong?

"Shall I go after him and try to get him back?" John asked me, with doubt in his eyes.

"I don't know... Why did he cry? What happened? Why did he run away all of a sudden?"

"Come on, let's ask him..." John told the children.

They rushed through the open door, and suddenly my kitchen was empty again.
Feeling numb, I poured the milk from the saucepan into the sink and put the empty glasses away...

I slumped down onto one of the empty chairs, and started to think.
What could I have done wrong? Did I misread little Harry? Had I done something stupid?
What did make him cry? Why did he scream all of a sudden, and run away?
I didn't have the faintest idea...

I tried to replay what had happened, and closed my eyes...
Again, I saw the children, huddling together in front of my door.
Five children looked up at me expectantly, but the sixth one shyly hid behind the others.
Little Harry obviously didn’t feel at ease...
Was I wrong in re-entering my house without looking back?
I thought it would help them to feel less threatened. When they were free to enter the house voluntarily, they would also be free to leave the house voluntarily...

All the children followed me inside and entered my kitchen, while Marrie helpfully pushed little Harry.
Again, I saw John and Thomas, sitting down at the kitchen table, soon joined by Mark and Chrissie.
Marrie tried to push little Harry towards me, but he was struggling back with all his force.
He couldn't hide his burnt face any more; and, obviously, he was very frightened...

Why was he so frightened? Was he really afraid of me? Or, was he afraid of being rejected?
Of course he was! Everybody, except the children and their parents, always rejected him and called him a 'freak' and an 'alien'.
To him, I was just another stranger who had never seen him before, and he didn't know how I would react...

I recalled how his face looked, and how the fire had damaged everything...
His skin looked severely distorted by a couple of scars and a lot of wild flesh.
His nose was halfway gone, and his nostrils looked like black holes.
The left side of his mouth was askew, and his lips on the other side were shriveled and wrinkled.
His right ear was stuck to his head, and his face was stained in at least three different colors...
Little Harry WAS a freaky sight to everybody who wasn't used to living around a burnt little brother!

I recalled how I felt an intense surge of love and compassion for this so unfortunate child.
Without thinking, I opened my arms and invited him for a hug...
At first, he looked shocked and just stared at me, trying to search my soul. Was I sincere? Could he really trust me?
After a moment, he straightened his shoulders, left Marrie, and slowly approached me...

I took him into my arms, and he heaved a deep sigh and let himself melt into me.
Then, I kissed his forehead, as I always used to do with Joshie and with my own daughters...
Shouldn't I have done that? Wasn’t he used to being kissed by a stranger, or maybe nobody ever kissed him?
However, he melted into me even more, obviously enjoying our intimacy.

He looked into my eyes, smiled, and kissed me back...
He tilted his head, and firmly pressed his shriveled lips onto mine...
I felt severely shocked, and didn't know how to react. No stranger had ever kissed me on my lips before...
I didn't know what to do; and that's why I did nothing, feeling very uneasy...

After a few seconds, little Harry withdrew his lips, shuddered, and started to cry.
I thought that his emotions had been too much for him, and lifted him off the floor.
I sat him on my lap, helpfully turning him around so that he could face the others.
All of a sudden, he screamed, fought himself free, and stumbled to the door...

Why did he scream? What went wrong?
Was he angry, disappointed, maybe frightened?
I didn’t have the faintest idea...
He started to scream after I turned him around...
Was the turning around a problem?
Perhaps, he didn't WANT to be turned around to face the other children?

Suddenly, I discovered something important: the turning around hadn't been HIS decision, but MINE!
I didn't ask him what HE wanted, but simply ASSUMED he wanted to face the others...
I was severely shocked about my obvious lack of consideration, and shook my head in disbelief.
Did I ever think I was a good therapist?
Had I really been that egotistic?

I brewed myself another cup of coffee; and went to the porch, hoping to see the children.
However, the street looked very empty...
Where was everybody? Where was that frightened little boy now?

I started to think again...
Now, I looked further back, at how my little brother and I went together when we were young.
Everything always SEEMED to be peaceful and in harmony, but was it?
What color were Joshie's eyes? I thought he had brown eyes, just like mine, but I wasn't sure...
Did I ever look in his eyes? Did I ever talk with him?
I did talk TO him, oh yes:

"Time to go to bed Josh..." and he went to bed.

"Don't forget to shower!" and he showered.

However, did I ever talk WITH him, waiting for and listening to his answer?

I realized, I didn't even know Joshie...
As a small boy, I bathed him, I dried him, I tickled him and he laughed, I carried him to his room, I put him between the blankets, and I kissed his forehead.
However, that was all the contact I ever maintained with my little brother...
I was so used to having him around, that I often didn't even realize he was there. He was always there, playing silently and seemingly in harmony...
The only time he seemed to need me, was when the weather changed and a thunderstorm raged. That made him crawl into my bed and sleep next to me for the rest of the night, but I couldn't remember ever putting my arm around him; even after he had burnt himself and was dependent on others...

Was I really so egotistic?
Even after Joshie accidentally caught himself on fire, I never asked him what HE wanted.
I had to take him with me whenever and wherever I went, and I did; but was that what HE wanted? I just dragged him with me...
He couldn't speak any more, but certainly his eyes could have told me something...
I just never looked into them.
I kissed his forehead, every time we were together, but that was what I always did, what I was used to doing.
I still had the feeling I really loved him as my little brother, but who did I love? I didn't even know him...
Why did I never look into his eyes; and see who he really was, or what HE wanted?

The sun was setting, and the air started to be chilly; so I went inside, still thinking...
I sat down on the couch in the living room, but now I forced myself to contemplate on who I REALLY was.
Sixty-five years of wasted life, never really listening to my wife or to my children, always doing what I assumed they wished, but never asking THEM.
Joshie didn't seem to need me, my parents always were too busy with themselves, my wife never complained, even after the divorce; my daughters went their own ways...

Now, another little boy enters my life and seems to need me; and, again, I am making the same mistakes...
Again, I am assuming things; again, I am NOT asking HIM what HE wants...
Again, I am NOT listening to what HE has to tell me...
I am such a selfish egotist...
I will have to change my behavior drastically, before I am worthy to befriend such a vulnerable child...
And, I will have to start right NOW!

I drifted off, slowly, until I was hardly aware of my surroundings.
Everything around me felt peaceful, as if part of me went to heaven.
A bright light surrounded me, not coming from the sun, but seemingly shining everywhere.
I felt myself overflowing with love, understanding, tenderness, and compassion...
When I looked up, I saw Jack, the former owner of my house, looking at me with a knowing smile on his face and love in his eyes.
He looked like a grown-up version of my own little brother, Joshie.
I also thought John could have been his son, having those same brown eyes and curly hair...

I heard Jack's voice, sounding warm and understanding, seemingly coming from within my head:

"Do you understand now?"

I nodded, and tears started to stream down my face.
I felt completely overwhelmed by so much love, so much compassion...

"You and that little boy are needing each other. Don't be afraid; you didn't make a mistake, and he will come back. Just listen to your heart, and love him..."

Jack's voice drifted off; and the light vanished, leaving me on the couch crying my heart out.

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Thank you for reading the next chapter of my story 'Born to be a King'.
Enjoy the reading, and help us make our world to be a better place!

I would LOVE to receive your comments...
Harry AnderS, Dutch psychotherapist and alternative writer.

harry@harryanders.com
http://www.harryanders.com