I don’t believe in reincarnation.
But the time has come for me to come out of the shadows and to tell you how I came to believe that I will die soon.
When I was 15, my dad took me on a trip to visit his sister, a Navajo woman who died in 1996.
My dad was always interested in Native Americans and Navajo culture.
One of my brothers and I spent a day exploring the Navajo Reservation, and the Navajo people were very friendly.
My brother and I took a boat out to the coast and camped in the beautiful, remote area.
The next morning, my father called me and said he had a new job.
My parents were a bit apprehensive at first, but we were convinced.
The following morning, we were told by my father that we would soon be moving to Los Angeles.
I was scared, but he reassured me that this was a good decision.
At first, I was nervous.
My father always told me that if I were going to die I would die alone, but I knew that I could trust him.
When we arrived in Los Angeles, we immediately started to feel a lot better.
It was only then that I started to question my belief.
I began to think about the fact that I might be dying and wondering why I was dying.
I wondered why I wasn’t having the experience of my father.
I didn’t know if I was even there.
But my father was there, and he explained to me that I would not be here until I had completed my journey to the other side.
This was my first experience with the concept of reincarnation and the belief that I had come back to life after I had died.
I did not know what the afterlife would be like, but my father told me it was not as bad as I thought.
I thought that my experience of death would be different from that of my dad, who had died at the age of 100.
My next question was: How do you die?
My father told my parents that they would not kill me, but they would kill all the people I trusted and that I must not be harmed by them.
So, I went to bed that night.
I had just told my mother that I wanted to go back to Los Feliz.
When my parents woke up the next morning I had no memory of the night before, and I was confused.
I told them that I knew I was dead, but that I didn´t know how to go to sleep.
They told me to call my brother and my sister.
My mother answered the phone and told me she was going to sleep in the car.
I then asked my father if he would take me to his room and to go get a gun and a knife.
My sister said that she was worried because my father would kill her if she ever found out that I was still alive.
I went back to my room and took my father´s gun.
When he came out, he had me under control and he told me I would be able to go home and sleep in peace.
My last words to my father were, “Mommy, Daddy, I have to go.”
My father said, “Go to bed.”
He took me to the bedroom and went to sleep, but then he awoke.
He called my brother, told him that I died, and said, ‘I know this, but please let me go.
I am not going to kill you anymore.
I don´t want to kill anyone.’
He said he was going down the stairs and he would go into his room.
I awoke from a dream and he was standing in front of my bed and I told him, “Dad, please don´T do this.
Don´t kill me.
I won´t let you do it.”
He said, “…
I can’t kill you.
I’m going to go upstairs.”
I said, “‘Daddy, don´’t do this.'”
He said ‘OK, Mommy.
I will go.’
He went up the stairs.
I heard my father scream, and when I turned around, I saw him lying on the bed with his face between my legs.
I saw my father on the ground.
I couldn´t get up, so I went up to his body and touched it.
He woke up.
My first question was, ‘What is wrong with you?’
He said “I just got shot.”
I asked him, ‘Did you see that?’
He answered, ‘No, I just got killed.’
He grabbed my legs and pulled me to him.
I said ‘What did you do to me?’
He told me, ‘It was God.
You are dead.
I have taken you to the place where God will make you.
“He told my brother that I shouldn´t go to my family because I could get them killed.
When it came to the guns and knives, my brother told me “Don