Account of Yael Carter

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Hi John,
I wanted to share my first memory, of an “X-Ray”, which I have confirmed with my family that what I remember never happened. In the respect that, I’d never had an “X-ray” done at this specific age, and as an adult abductee, I realized was not typical, especially as I work in medicine. When having an X-ray done, there are never multiple people in the room. There are always one or two x-ray techs behind a lead shield.

I recall certain memories of the night as a child. The colors orange and red always bothered me, strangers scared me to death, and going to the doctor, forget it. I would become hysterical, gripping and pleading as a child not to see the doctor. My fear was great. My parents even took me to a therapist, since they could not figure out why their toddler would run screaming hysterically into their room about “not letting them take” her as well as my fear of the doctor.  I recall, even being in the crib, we had a cat, Rascal. He was my cat until I turned 18 in 1998 and passed. Rascal ALWAYS slept in my crib facing the door. (Dear Reader, I asked “X” to please elaborate what she was trying to indicate about Rascal the cat. I got a substantial reply, which I’ve added at the end so it doesn’t disrupt the original flow. John, 28 Nov 22)

I always felt it was a passing memory that everyone had. But from infancy, I remember always hiding under my covers as the room would get warm, and I could see the reddish-orange glow through my blankets. I knew something was not right, yet was too terrified to look.

When I was born, I was later told that I was born with a light around me that was visible even to the nurses and doctor who delivered me via C-Section. As I was removed from my mother’s womb I was sleeping. I was peaceful. I did not enter this world screaming. I opened my eyes, looked around, and fell back to sleep. My mother still attests to this 42 years later, that there was a quiet yet audible gasp due to my aura that everyone saw.

Growing up I knew I was different. I saw the world differently than most of my peers in childhood. I had a fondness and bond with nature and animals. I could sense things and emotions. I learned much later I am an empath. I also could see the deceased and communicate with them. I was a conduit for them which startled my mother when I was two years of age. She was vacuuming my room. I remember distinctly my carpet color, my wallpaper. My mother running the loud vacuum. I asked her “Mommy, is that Jesus?”, as the apparition of an older man stood behind my mother and walked away.

I later learned he was the original owner who passed away.

I was diagnosed as an infant with a bowel condition. Part of my large intestine had no nerve endings which caused chronic constipation. The only test I had for this was a lower GI series at 6 months old. A simple change of diet, and daily laxatives, eventually resolved my intestinal issues as I got older. I was an allergic child. Even an adult, allergic to almost everything, the running joke was that I belonged in a bubble. Yet, I make do.

However, the realization of what I thought was a dream of an ‘X-Ray’ is odd, especially remembering this from being a toddler.  I remember being in a white sterile gown and being led by my hand by a “doctor” who was very tall. However, at four years old everyone is tall.

I was led into this room and telepathically told I was going to have an X-ray.

I looked around the room, complying, and noticed all of the doctors and their white doctor gowns.
Yet, I could not see their faces. I think back and try to remember their features and I cannot. There was too much bright light behind them. Yet I could see many of them standing in and around the room.

I heard a voice in my head say, “Now be a good girl and we will take you back to your mommy and daddy. There is nothing to be afraid of.”

The voice was not mechanical yet devoid of emotion. However, I was not frightened.

I was placed on the “X-ray” table, and instructed to lie down. I heard the instructions in my head. I thought this was normal, that this happened to everyone.

The voice reassured me there was nothing to be frightened of as my legs, arms, wrists, and abdomen were strapped down.

As I write this my heart is beginning to race due to recalling the absolute fear of what came next.

They could sense my anxiety. I kept thinking “I don’t like this” “I want my mommy.”

The most frightening events took place, which now at the age of 42, I have NEVER forgotten.
In my mind, I heard “It will be okay, do not be scared. We are going to place this on your head, we call them Mickey Mouse ears”. A half circle of metal, with two white pads on either end, was placed on the sides of my temples and the piece bolted to the table to keep my head in place and not move.

I kept trying to lift my head, panicking, terrified, not understanding what and why this was happening. I hear, “Child you have nothing to be afraid of. We promise to take you back to your mommy.”

I stopped struggling and relaxed. I remember as I relaxed seeing the room and the many “doctors” watching.

I looked up, my head stationary, unable to move, and see this light come down from the X-ray machine. It was a broad light that became smaller and smaller as it came close to my eye. My instinct was to turn my head.

“Be still child. You will not feel pain.” I heard in my head.

I complied. A pinpoint needle with a light was the last thing I saw….

The next thing I remember is being lifted off of the table gently and having my tiny hand taken and being walked out of the room by a tall doctor and into the bright light outside of the room.

Over the years I have remembered this specific memory over and over. I asked my parents through the years about this experience. Both of them replied ‘That’s strange. No, you’ve never had anything like that done.’

I was always terrified of photos of the greys when abductions became more popularized. Their pictures would quite literally scare me stiff. To the point where my mother noticed my reactions.

Whitley Streiber’s “Communion” - forget it. My father had the book in the bathroom and I flat refused to use that bathroom if the book was still in there. Eventually, it was removed.

At the age of 16 I woke one morning with three red dots in the shape of a triangle on my right hand between the webbing of my thumb and forefinger.

I have a lump there and have come to discover it is a diode of sorts. I have had the ability to manipulate electricity since I was a teenager. John confirmed this implant in my hand, as well as discovering I have a second implant in my head, via John’s meters.

It simply defies any explanation, other than I’m an experiencer.

So are my parents. They both have been abducted their entire lives, as well as my grandparents. My father finally opened up to me after I told him my experiences after I’d hear him criticize abductions my whole life saying “Oh that’s bullshit”. Think dad wasn’t ready to accept his experiences.

The look on his face was one of shock, sadness, fascination, and interest. Quite the mix.

Then he opened up to me about what happened to him.

Same with my mother.

I have had more experiences in my entire life. I tried to put the pieces of this together. Luckily, I have. I have not put all of the pieces together. However, I do not fear them.

They showed me my purpose in 2013. My “Minder” as I fondly refer to it/he/her. I am unsure of the gender.

My minder, with three long fingers, cold, and almost amphibious-like in texture, showed me the reason why.

After that, I no longer feared them, and call them my friends. I welcome them with each storm that approaches or when I feel the electricity in the air is heightened.

That’s when I know they’re here. I keep my window open a crack every night, as an invitation to them, as it is our understanding.


Humbly,

‘Yael Carter’

26 Nov 22

 

(Explanation of Rascal, the cat, below, plus a few other things “X” added. John 28 Nov 22)

We had a cat since the time I was born. He was my cat my father told me. His name was Rascal, but my father bought him for me when I was born. Just like every boy should have a dog, my father said every little girl should have a cat. Rascal was my cat. He lived for 18 years, he always slept with me since I was an infant.

I distinctly remember being in my crib, opening my eyes and he was in the crib with me. His head was up facing the opened door as if on alert, protecting me.

I’d hear stories over the years that my mother would pick him up out of the crib and shoo him out and close my door to which, he would growl actually growl as if angry, and scratch at my door until he would be let back in, hop back in my crib and sleep, always facing that damn door.

Rascal was a Maine Coon, full of hair, fluffy and chubby. He was nimble though, having the ability to jump into a crib.

As I got older, he still slept in my bedroom with me when I would visit my father’s house after my parents divorced. My father would say he’d walk around the house looking for me then hop in my bed and again sleep facing the door. When I would come to visit my father, Rascal always was with me no matter where I was in the house.

I’d wake in the morning to find him at my feet. I’d pet him as he lazily looked up at me, get up, stretch, and leave.

There were nights I would hear him shuffle or give a guttural low growl. This was not like him, as he was so friendly, not skittish or foul-tempered. He loved people.

Now as an adult I learned that the greys do not like cats. I have no idea why but they don’t.

My cat was my protector when I was a baby, or at least tried to be. There were times when I was taken he couldn’t protect me.

Then after my parent’s divorce and my living with my mother, no cat, no Rascal until my weekend visits.
I was fair game to the greys to be taken.

It has taken me years to put these fragments of memory together without hypnosis. My brain only allowed parts and bits to peek through my conscious memory due to the trauma. Which I no longer find traumatic as I was shown my purpose.

I have more experiences to share, some are shards of memory, others are as clear as day that I recall.

I still have so many questions and would love to know the answers. The answers to my entire story.
Much like any of you reading this who have been traumatized by your experiences. All I can suggest is there IS a reason. A big reason. I only know what my reason for my experiences were and still are.

Although some may find this violation reprehensible, again, in the bigger picture, the reason is much greater than what we are allowed to actually conceivably understand.

Just know you are not alone in your experiences.

‘Yael Carter’

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