In no particular order.

- The first evening when I knew my father was gone.

- The morning after Gregory left.

- The moment before I spoke up in that elevator.

- Shooting silver - but tiny - bullets into a loup-garou.

- Being trapped inside my head and not able even to scream out loud.

- Being trapped into wall-mart with reason-eating mist, people shooting at us, and various flavors of monsters coming through the limited visibility. The marbles didn't help.

- Not being able to escape nightmares and being vulnerable to things that I shouldn't have been. Sometimes recovering is as hard as the trauma itself.

- Being under Raith's control, needing to do what he wanted of me.

- Knowing we left Harry in that hellish cave when he was just about done for.

- Watching Rick being taken away by the ambulance after that convention horror.