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There is one part of my childhood that I have returned to more times than any other while writing this book. Not because it frightens me now but because I have often wondered what life must have looked like through the eyes of that little girl. For as long as I can remember, strange images would come into my mind as I was going to sleep. They were not dreams because I was still awake. Night after night, I would see twisted faces, wolf-like creatures and men whose faces change