During a recent spell in hospital, a lot of the time I was in a semi-conscious state, sometimes due to my illness, and sometimes due to the drugs they gave me. While I was in this semi-conscious state, I had what I believed to be a past-life experience, a very brief flashback which seemed to repeat over and over for what seemed like hours. I remember running along a brick road similar to this. There was an air of unhappiness around the whole memory, everything appeared exceptionally vivid. It was grey and cold, very wet and windy. I was a young child and I was wearing a kind of pinafore very similar to the one illustrated here (scroll down to the 'Girls Pinafore Dress' on the right) except that it was dark grey and white. As I was running along I was holding the bottom of the dress up around my knees to prevent myself from tripping over it I guess. With the other hand I was holding onto a bonnet on my head to keep it from blowing away. What seemed to be a memory within a memory, as I was running, I remembered recently being in a large room with other people of a similar age, it could have been a ward in a hospital, or a shared room in an asylum or an orphanage. Wherever it was, I was being kept there against my will and I had recently left this room through some large heavy wooden double doors at the end of the room and down several long flights of stairs. The building was very cold, dark and depressing, all brick and no decoration at all, it certainly wasn't a place that had been built with comfort in mind. I remember the exterior from a previous memory to this one. A large courtyard surrounded by the building on three sides, iron bars at the multitude of windows and a set of iron steps zig-zagging upwards on one of the walls, I remember two or three people running down these steps in pursuit of me, particularly the 'clanging' of their shoes on the iron steps, but that was all from a seperate memory some time ago. Although I haven't actually remembered the outcome yet, I did feel very strongly that the people running down the iron steps were 'after me', that I wasn't fast enough and they eventually caught up with me and took me back to that place. This post and discussion is continued in the thread PL memory of an orphanage or asylum?