For days now, perhaps even weeks, though it’s hard to tell, Tina has been too debilitated to move, too weak to stand and too confused not to try. And today, or was it yesterday? Or last week? She has become powerless to move more than her fingers unaided. None of nature’s beings could be in a more fragile and defenceless state.

Her early onset Alzheimer’s has advanced to such an extent that her brain can no longer manage her body. The intricate communication network that once governed her movements, reflexes, and basic needs has frayed beyond repair. It cannot keep up with even the simplest demands of her body, nor does it have the capacity to prioritise or respond to her body’s essential needs.

Tina’s body, left without proper cerebral guidance, has become so neglected that it is visibly breaking down. Muscles once responsive and strong have withered, leaving her unable to move or even adjust her position in bed. Essential functions, like swallowing and regulating her body temperature, are faltering, and her skin is as fragile as parchment, prone to damage that could cause further complications.

Those caring for her tread carefully, their every action measured and deliberate. Even the simple act of repositioning her to prevent bedsores, a task so routine in caregiving, feels fraught with risks.

Tina has become a portrait of vulnerability, yet an evil has been stalking her, an imposter among those dedicated to her wellbeing. And now, that evil is back. I feel the vibrations in nature’s essence and vitality field, like a subtle but unmistakable disturbance. The balance is shifting, and I sense it deeply within me. It is not a powerful evil, probably no more than a pathetic, misguided soul, but its presence still lingers, corrupting the space around her.

I am in Tina’s head, or at least it feels that way. I can sense what she senses, as though her thoughts and emotions are bleeding into my own, which is exactly what has been happening since I imposed the Essenscape onto her life when she was much younger. In this strange connection, I am both an observer and an accomplice. Today I am sharing her isolation, her disconnection from the world around her as though we are tethered in this fragile, painful space together.

Her mind, now so clouded and fragile, has extended its reach, allowing me to experience her fragmented thoughts, her fleeting moments of clarity. No, not clarity; more like the flicker of a distant light through a thick fog, the clearest view available to her, with details strangely odd and elusive. Her mind is still that of an adult; it is unaltered and unaffected. Her emotional maturity remains intact, but she struggles and is unable to comprehend her predicament. Tina is unable to identify anything in any form that connects her to a world she can relate to.

In these, her best moments, Tina may sometimes feel the compassionate shield of affection that protects her, and occasionally recognise the steadfast benevolence that supports her. But for the most part, she is trapped in a strange ‘pea souper’ world where she recognises nothing and understands nothing. She doesn’t know how things operate, what she can or must do, where danger lies, or even what it looks like. Nothing. Not a single point of reference can she identify, let alone rely on. No friends, no allies, not even another soul is apparent in the hell she has awoken to. Even a newborn has more innate awareness of how to survive than Tina can muster, even now in one of her better moments.

Can you imagine a more terrifying scenario than one where you find yourself with no friends, no familiar faces, no point of reference to anything from your own world? A place where every corner is unrecognisable, every sound foreign, and you are left adrift, unable to make sense of anything around you? A world where you cannot even trust your own senses, and all that you once knew is gone, leaving you utterly isolated and lost. Fear should be gnawing at the core of her existence, and you would expect Tina to be paralyzed with terror but strangely this is not the case, at least for now.

I understand why she remains calm but I cannot stop to explain as I sense the evil getting closer; the vibrations are stronger, and it is so close now that I can taste the jealousy of anyone happy, the disregard for any human decency, and the raw inhumanity that has been festering like a septic wound in her soul. She is in the room. Tina is at risk from this malevolent human but she is unaware of her presence or the danger. I am aware but I am unable to intervene.

Tina is in one of her infrequent clarity moments when strong female hands reach behind her shoulders and without a hint of gentleness forced her head and neck forward, fiddling with something around her neck. Tina can see her satisfying grin, as could I through Tina’s eyes, and see her mouth move she but could not hear the words. I could hear and they expressed joy in relieving Tina of something she no longer needed and which she probably obtained through sluttish deception anyway.

The item was quickly replaced around Tina’s neck, and she was gracelessly slumped back into her prone position. But the damage was done. Tina began to burn from the inside, as if a branding iron had seared her heart, extinguishing what little was left of her fragile life. The compassion and benevolence that had once shielded her dissipated like ashes scattered by the wind. Terrors grew in their absence, looming over her, until they paralysed her. A dark, cold abyss consumed her entirely. Even I, the observer, felt the crushing despair.

The inhumane intruder had stolen Tina’s engagement ring and wedding ring, kept safe on a necklace around her neck. She walked away triumphant, proud of her evening’s work, her twisted sense of entitlement justifying the assault on a defenceless, fragile, and dying woman for whom she had a duty of care. She had deemed her own need for those rings greater.

For Tina, already devastated by Alzheimer’s, this was a final act of cruelty. Her soul seemed ripped from her. Those rings were more than objects; they held the quintessence of her life, the essence of love and memories, the touchstone of her humanity. They were the wellspring of emotions that make life worth living—the very place we draw from to find love, joy, and meaning. All gone, all ripped away in an instance.

Insanity and torment weighed heavily on Tina, stripping away all hope and leaving only heart-wrenching chaos to fill her remaining days. I tried desperately to awaken her to my presence, to offer even the smallest flicker of comfort. But I knew it was futile. I simply did not have the power to be more than an observer.

The black mist of despair crept closer, inexorable in its advance. And then, Tina was gone. Her fleeting moment of vague awareness dissolved, her consciousness slipping away like the setting sun. With it came a life-saving ignorance, a merciful and temporary release from the torment of her predicament.

And so, we struggled through the night and into the morning. Every time Tina had a moment of awareness, the black mist rolled closer, creeping steadily, and madness stood poised to engulf her. Each time, I danced, pranced, sang, and shouted in a futile attempt to awaken her to my presence in her world. But the advancing madness could not be stopped.

With every fleeting moment of awareness, Tina was losing the battle. It had become my battle as well. We were exhausted, teetering on the very edge of the abyss. I am not of your world, but that morning, I felt its full weight pressing against me. The danger was sharp, real, and undeniable. Perhaps even I was at risk. The black mist had entered Tina’s body, searching for her soul, when it happened. He was here. It was ‘Him’. The rings were gone, but still, he came.

It was ‘Him’. His existential energy and unconditional love for Tina had once powered the rings that held the quintessence of her life. But the rings had been stolen, and their power was lost to her. In their absence, darkness had seeped in, bringing terror and the threat of madness—a madness already starting to consume Tina and perhaps even me, dragging us both towards the depths of hell.

And yet, there he was. ‘Him’ stood unwavering, he was never lost to Tina. His presence became a fortress against the madness, shielding her from the encroaching darkness. The battle was over; the rings were gone forever, but Tina was saved, freed to complete her journey in peace with the same grace that had defined her life. The rings were gone, but their power would never be lost to Tina.

In witnessing her salvation, I too discovered a kind of redemption. In our different worlds, in our different ways, we both discovered anew our love for humanity.