I am four years old. Covered with freckles. Called "Turkey-Egg" because of them. I hate it. "I can cure those freckles if promise not to tell," whispers Granddad. The freckle cure begins. "If you tell," he whispers, "it will kill your mother." This threat, repeated many times, causes anxiety and fear that my behaviours will, somehow, kill Mummy. As abuse escalates, the need to develop another personality increases, until five people share my mind. I keep that secret for fifty years. Then, a mental burnout bursts the dame of silence. Secrets tumble out. The five personalitites who share my mind find their voices