I feel the smooth pipe being forced angrily down my throat, the burn as it scratches against my tonsils.

"Hold her down, she's trying to get up".

I try with all my force to cough up the medication they're trying to get me to swallow, my eyes are blurred from the tears, I hastily allow them to slip back, gagging on the taste, who knows what type of antipsychotic they are trying today, whatever it is, I don't want it, I don't need it.

The first vision I had, I remember it so vividly.

It's the only memory I have now, everything else from my past has been zapped away, literally zapped, while being in here.

I sat on the edge of the bed waiting for my father to get home from his travels, Cynthia was running around the table in the front room chasing our cat, that's when I saw her decide to jump on to the chair, knocking a boiling pot that was on the stove, her face and arms scolded from the heat, I heard her scream and saw the blistered skin slide from her body as she crumpled to the ground.

mother was in the outhouse cleaning, she had left the hot water resting on top, a momentary laps of judgement.

I raced out of the room and pulled back Cynth before she could burn herself, the pot flew off the side and landed where we were just stood.

I could see the shock on her face, she asked me how I knew she was going to jump, that was the first time I told anyone of my premonitions.

Daily I battled with visions of people I loved, the decisions they made and consequences of there actions, watching from a far.

Most days were mundane, Cynthia's choice of argument with a friend, My father selling a piece of jewellery which would later be sold on for a profit.

Nothing of great interest to me, I knew that I had to keep the images a secret, I knew that if people started to question what was in my head, I could be in danger.

I had seen the bodies hanging from the orchard across from our house, they would cut down the women around 7pm at night, load them into a cart and burn them on the spare ground opposite.

'Witches' my father would say, disgusted every time I questioned why they would do such a thing to someone.

As a child I had heard the horror stories of witches in the village, women who would curse families, put spells on men and trap them; eat babies who were left unattended.

I don't know how much I believed of the latter but the older I grew, the more the idea of these women intrigued me.

One evening, as my father was on his way home from work in a local town, I saw him pass by a pub about 2 miles from our village, as I watched him decide to go inside I shouted to my mother and told her he would be late home again, he would be intoxicated when he arrived home and hungry so to make sure she left his tea settled on the stove.

My mother was quite open to my visions, she believed them for the most and took on board the things I saw.

A month prior I had seen her, murdered in cold blood while walking to the corner shop.

Horrified I made sure to tell her, I made her promise that she would not leave the house, me and my sister took on the role of shopping and gardening, anything to keep her safe.

My father seemed angry about her change of plans, he told her I was a strange little girl and that the images were because I was crazy, that maybe she was for believing me.. maybe she was, but I would keep her safe until this passed.

After 4 months of seemingly safe days, my father was getting more and more frustrated at my mother, he told her that if she did not start doing her normal daily routine again he would leave, he couldn't cope with her being under the control of a 'stupid girl', since my initial vision, nothing else had popped up that concerned me, her change must have stopped whatever was going to happen.

My mother started going about her business again and life went on, I started to question the authenticity of the things I had seen.