- Psycho Society
- Oct 21, 2010
-
|
quote:Ghosts are talked about in the Bible. So are demons. And witches. And witches calling up ghosts. My mother is a preacher and she believes in ghosts.
She's had a few run ins with them too. When my parents were first married they lived in Scottsdale AZ. They had a ghost there. It seemed pretty harmless. It would just move things around every now and then. But it would also do helpful things like find keys, pull out chairs for you, close the cupboard doors when you left them open. My parents are pretty drat practical so they just shrugged it off and went on with their lives not in the least concerned they lived with a ghost.
Then one day it was really hot out on a weekend. My parents couldn't afford A/C so it was extremely hot inside. My mother laid down to nap the hottest part of the day away. My father finished whatever he was working on and joined her. Now at this point you need to know that my mother is pretty short. She was only 5 foot 1 at the time. My father is much taller, but thye both have thick dark wavy hair. They both slipped under the sheet to stay cool but my mom, for some reason, was much higher up on the bed. They both sleep on their bellies too. Now my father had just started dozing off when a pillow hits him in the back of the head. He wakes to find out it was the pillow he had been sleeping on. He looks at my mom to see why she smacked him. She is sleeping. He figured it was the ghost playing around. They said he would get grumpy if they didn't play with him. So my father takes a deep breath to tell the ghost to stop playing when the pillow gets heavier. Then it shoves his face into the bed.
Now at the time my father worked putting up telephone poles. He is not a weak man and he was in his prime at this point. But as much as he fought he could not get that pillow off his face. It held him down until he could barely breathe. Now he is thrashing around on the bed and my mother, sleeping right next to him, does not wake. She is still sleeping calmly. My father in a last ditch effort managed to get his hand up to his face to pull the pillow out of his mouth enough to get air to scream "LYNN!"
As soon as he screamed my mom's name the pillow fell away. Then the door shut as my mom jerked away asking what was wrong. She got the story from dad and they both wondered what had pissed off their ghost like that. But that was just the start.
After that it started tormenting my older brother, who was still a baby. It would scare him, move him, leave bruises and put dangerous things in the crib with him. My mother was laying on the couch one day, right after laying him down for his nap. She left the door open because of all the problems they had been having and she wanted to keep an eye on him. She told me she blinked and when her eyes opened the door was shut. She could still her the echo of the slam. And my brother was howling and screaching. She had to kick the door in to get it to open. The handle wouldn't turn. When she got in there my brother was sitting, naked, in the middle of the floor screaming and red all over.
My parents had enough and called in a local preacher. They put a Bible in the baby's room. So long as the Bible was in there he was fine. If the Bible got moved, and sometimes it did, he would start screaming again. After they found out my mom was pregnant they moved. They thought their troubles were over too since they never saw the ghost again. Unfortunately, they never told us kids. And we never told them what we saw either. We figured they wouldn't beleive us.
Well like a lot of the other people in here I hate talking about this. It always takes me a while to get it out. I'll just start typing and go till I have to take a break.
To start there are 4 of us. I have two older brothers and an older sister. The people are R(oldest brother) C(older sister) M(second older brother) then me(I'm the youngest)
When we were younger there was the girl's room and the boy's room. Though we would often sleep together in one room one weekends. It was like a sleepover with your siblings. We would stay up all night playing games or talking. And sine our rooms were at the opposite side of the house from our parents we could sneak back and forth easily. One night we're sleeping in the boy's room. I wake up and have to pee. So does C. At the same time. We go to the bathroom. R wakes up and is thirsty so he goes to the kitchen for a glass of water. M wakes up. There is no one in the room now except him. He rolls over and the closet door is standing open. But in order to fit us all in there with our sleeping bags we had to close that door since it openend into the room. M is suddenly terrified.
A black shape appears in the closet. It develops a head, then it gets a glowing green outline. It slinks it's reptilian head out the door and it's eyes turn red. It smiles. At the same time all 3 of us other kidshead back to the room and reach the door at the same time. We are very confused how this happened and stand there dumb founded for a bit. I am even more confused as to why the bedroom door is shut. Then M starts screaming. He open the door and he is sitting there with his arm out to the closet, his face is white and covered in sweat. He sees us and starts crying. We calm him down and get him to stop screaming. Then he tells us what happened and R investigates the closet, with the lights on obviously. It is empty. Like seriously, nothing in it. Of course it should have clothes and toys and such right? Nope. It is all gone. Poof. We decide to tell our parents about it in the morning and we all move to the girl's room. As I start to fall alseep I realize, even with all the screaming my parents never woke up. The next day we wake up and M is not with us. We check his room and he is sleeping where he had been the night before. All the things that were supposed to be in the closet are there again. we shrug it off and decide not to say anything to our parents since we have no proof.
Another weekend, we are playing hide and go seek in the dark. We did this fairly often and it was a lot of fun. It was more about being quiet then being fast. So I am sitting on the counter in the kitchen. I have my legs pulled up to my chest hiding in the shadows. I was extremely good at this game even though I was the youngest because I have the best night vision. R is it and he comes slowly shuffling towards me. I cover my mouth with my hand so he can't hear me breathing. He is fairly close now, about 4 feet away, holding his hands out to find te counter. All of a sudden a get a serious chill. Goose bumps cover me. I see a figure stand up behind R. I am thinking that dad some how managed to come out when we weren't out there and was waiting for us to sneak out of bed. Now he is going to be mad and spank us. I decide to stay hidden though hoping neither dad nor R would find me. Then the black figure steps forward and I can see it is not dad. It is not broad enough through the chest or shoulders to be him. Hell there is no way dad could have stood up that way any he. It seemed to flow up then unfurl until it was standing straight. I am about to say something when it looks at me.
I am hiding in the dark and it looks right at me. And smiles. Then it looks down at R who is just standing there now. Like he could sense something but wasn't sure what. Then the figure reaches out and shoves him. R hits the ground and I jump off the counter. I don't know what I was thinking but no one beats up my brother. I run at it, and R tags my foot. "You're it." He had no clue that he had been shoved down. He thought he had tripped. Even though there was nothing to trip on. we argue for a bit then I see the shape move off to the side. Moving now like a human and heading down the hall. I run and get dad, his bedroom door was only a few feet away at this point. I tell him that there is some one in the house. He grabs the gun, steps out, tosses R into the room with mom and I and investigates. He come sback and says the back door is open and C and M ae hiding under the bed and won't come out. Mom goes to coax M out. C and M both say they didn't recognize dad so they stayed hidden. They also say they couldn't hear him when he called out to them. The house is now empty and the door wasn't pried open, nothing was broken. So we don't call the cops. The next morning I could swear that I had seen a rip in R's shirt but didn't ask because I didn't want to know.
Time goes by and us kids get just a bit older. At this point we range from 7(me) to 11(R). M is mad at us for making fun of him about what he saw in the closet. We tell him we never did. He insists that we did. We blow him off and forget the whole affair. At least R and M do. I keep thinking about it in the back of my head. Especially when at 8 years old he develops an invisible friend. Now some people might say I'm paranoid, I say those people are out to get me. Why else would they be trying to get people to think I'M paraniod hmmmmm? So I keep an eye on M. Being the closest sibling in age (13 months apart) we play together all the time. He gets pretty odd. I'm not sure how to describe it but he didn't seem himself. My sister and I talk about it one day and C says it is pretty lame of him to have an invisile friend. She says he is too old. If anyone in the family should have one it should be me. Shortly after that she leaves and I am left alone in our room. It's the middle of the day, the sun is shining. Out of nowhere I say, "I think I will have an invisible friend too". I'm not really sure if I said it outloud or not, but I thought I did. I was also confused as to why I would say that. I had never cared before. And all of a sudden it felt like some one was playing with me. I have no way else to describe it, but I didn't feel like I was alone any more. So, "we" played.
I never mentioned having one. It seemed silly to me then. but I knew when I was plaing alone I wasn't really alone. M stated one day shortly after that that he didn't have an imaginary friend any more. I kinda laughed to myself since I now had one. This continued for a bit long, a few months or so. Summer faded to fall. It was cold outside so I made a nest for my friend in the closet. Then I immediately wondered why I had done that. I "knew" that an imaginary friend doesn't need a place to sleep. Again this all seemed silly to me, but it continued.
Then the circus came to town. I've never been able to go to a circus since then. I don't know if I would go even if I could now. We didn't have a lot of money then. Hell it was hard for my parents to pay the bills. There was no way we could afford to go to the circus. But a friend's mom won tickets for 6. How lucky is that?! So I am stoked when he comes over and says that his mom is going to take us all to the circus. Hurray! But there are only 4 tickets for us. I tell my invisible friend that he can not go. He gets mad. I tell him there are only 4 tickets. He says M should stay home then, no one likes him any way. I tell him that isn't fair. He says I should stay home then so he can go. I tell him that is silly. He is only an imaginary friend after all. Why would I take him to the circus. He gets very very angry.
All along it never crossed my mind that an imaginary friend wouldn't need a ticket. You see, this friend had started taking up space. Things would be pushed aside so he could sit. He would bump against me as he walked in and out of his nest in the closet. So being a tiny car with 5 kids and an adult in it I knew he wouldn't fit. It was only logical. So the day arrives, he is seething in the closet. I tell him to stuff it and walk out the door. I was at the point where I would talk to him outloud if no one was around. We used to just talk in our heads.
We all pile in the car and I see that I am right. There was no way he could have fit in the car with us. We get to the circus, hand in our tickets, and go running to find our seats. I sit down and am happy and giggly, like a school girl you might even say. I'm drumming my heels on the concrete and just waiting for the lights to come on. I can hear the performers behind the curtain and they are getting louder. I can see people around us, they are clapping and having a good time. I look back towards the main ring and see that the lights are still off. I can't see anything. I keep looking around at all the people. They are pointing at the dark ring and laughing and having fun. I stand up to see what they are pointing at. I see nothing but dark. It's just all dark. My sister pulls me down and chews me out for standing in my seat and blocking the view of people behind me. I start crying. I tell her I can't see the circus.
My much taller brother R offers to change seats so I can see. He assumes it is because I can't see over the guy in front of me. I move. I look at the stage. Darkness. I can't see anything. R even lets me sit on his lap. Then he scolds me for crying because he can see it just fine. I choke back my tears and just sit there. My sister isn't sure what is wrong but she holds me as I cry. At this point our friend's mom has noticed I am miserable. She checks my tempature and tells me I'm not feverish, then she lets me lay my head on her lap and cry for the rest of the show. I never saw a thing. I could see the clowns that walked up and down and sold stuff. but I simply could not see anything that happened on the circus floor.
A passing clown stopped to ask if I was ok. I told him I was fine. Then, to cheer me up I got a balloon. There is some debate on this. I remember her buying me this balloon because I missed the show. What I was told was that I threw a screaming fit until she finally bought me a balloon. I don't remember actually getting the balloon. I remember waking up in the car on the way home with the balloon.
I sure as hell remember getting in trouble once I got home though. She told my parents what I had done. My sibilings told my parents what I had done. I told them that the balloon was given to me to cheer me up. I got spanked for being bad, then another one for lying. Then I was sent to my room with no dinner. "If you want that balloon so bad that is all you will have for the rest of the day."
I grumped off to bed, incredibly confused. I untied the balloon from my wrist, put on my nightgown, and crawled into bed to sob. But as soon as I hit the pillow I was out.
Sometime, late late in the night I woke up. I looked for what woke me and saw nothing. My sister was sleeping in bed next to me. The moon was shining softly in through the blinds. I heard a sound near the door. It was the door slowly clicking shut. My sister always insisted on sleeping with the door cracked open. Now I watched as the doorknob turned and with a soft click lastched itself. For some reason this did not bother me. Then my balloon bobbed. Like some one had tugged it. Again, I did not really care. I sat up in bed and waited. I felt my "friend" nearby so why would I be scared? Then the balloon bobbed forward, as if some one had lightly hit it from behind. I should not here that this was a mylar balloon.
The balloon bobbed forward again, moving slowly towards me. I smiled, thinking we were going to play with the balloon. Oh how wrong I was. The balloon slowly spun around. As it was halfway around I could see that there was something on the balloon. Like I said before my night vision is excellent. It was a nose. A long nose. As the balloon continued to slowly turn the face came out farther. I could see the outline of lips and eyebrows. There weer no eyes though and this confused me. I wasn't scared, yet, but I was keeping that as an option for later. the balloon finished it's ratation until this incomplete face was now looking right at me. It was also several feet away from the door where it started that night. I knew this face shape in the balloon. It was what I had been playing with for almost a year now.
Then slowly the face pushed out even more. I could see now that it was a mask of some sort. It kinda resembled a generic African mask. As soon as this thought popped into my head dried grasses started growing out the side of the mask. Then the hate. It poured off of this thing. it poured out of it as fast as the grass grew out the sides of the mask. I lurched back in my bed until I hit my sister who was still sleeping beside me. She didn't move. I had a moment to think that she might be dead before the balloon lunged at me. It moved at first like an unsupported balloon will. Then I saw a shimmery black shape form underneath it. It had a body now and it used that to lunge at me again. I was knocked back against C. fighting and screaming and kicking to get it off of me. I just kept screaming "No." as loud and as fast as I could. I knew I could deny it out of existance for some reason. Then the mask came down at my face. I was yanked down on the bed. I knew it was trying to pull me off the bed to take me away and I screamed harder. Something hit my face and everything went black.
I woke up again screaming, then threw up. My siter was stting over me crying, holding my arms and shaking me. She seemed to be screaming too. My parents were just inside the door coming in. I quickly looked at the spot behind the door where the balloon had been but it wasn't there. This sent me into a panic and I screamed again. My fahter snatched me up out of bed and held me to his chest petting my hair back form my face. I coughed, and a bit of vomit and blood came up. My mom was asking what happened while my father checked me over. My sister said something I couldn't understand and they took me to that bathroom to get me cleaned up. My sister came in too and rinsed off something she had in her hand. It was a shiny piece of mylar.
She had woken up when I started thrashing around. She told me to stop and I did. She said she didn't like the way I stopped moving completely so she rolled over to check on me. She realized I was choking and started screaming for our parents as she dug around in my mouth and throat. (Thank you Phys.Ed!) She pulled the piece out of my throat and I immediately started screaming "No" at her. She had to hold me down until my parents made it in. They are both fairly light sleepers. My mom checked my throat and it was sliced up, but not bad, from the mylar. So once I was calmed back down and told them I would be ok they followed my sister and I back to our room. As my father pulled the blanket back for me to climb in he saw the ribbon of the balloon. He held it up.
"This is why you kids are never allowed to sleep with balloons in your rooms. Next time leave it in the front room like you are told to." Very confused I climb into bed. I can distinctly remember him, even now as I write this, tell me to take the balloon with me. He was right though, always before he insisted the we leave ballons out of our rooms while sleeping. Just to be safe. I take the ribbon and look at it. It has a weight on the bottom so it won't move around. but it still managed to make it nearly 8 feet from the corner of my room to my bed.
Then I look at the corner. I realize that where the balloon had been was directly on the other side of the wall from the nest. I get up to throw the ribbon away. My parents have already left. As I move the blanket I feel something else. I look down and there is a tuft of dried grass. I start to shake. I get pissed pretty easy and I am livid now. I stomp over to the closet and yank the door open. I look back to the nest and yank it apart. "You are not my friend and I don't want to play any more!" My sister gives me a slightly bewildered look but ends up just holding me as I cry myself to sleep.
True to what I had said, from that day on he was never my friend again. That didn't stop him from "playing" though.
The next few years more than a few strange things happened. Nothing to that extreme though. I was almost killed a few more times, but nothing that could really be blamed on him. Hell, I had more than a few close calls even before my imaginary friend. I'm a klutz, and poo poo happens. poo poo just happens a lot to me. So for me none of the things that happened was too terribly out of the ordinary. Dogs attack. Brakes fail. Boards break under your feet. Life goes on. You learn to deal. I learned to deal by fighting back every time I was attacked. Dog charges me, again, run at it screaming. Corn plant suddenly whips around and slaps me, break the stalk so it falls down. That type of thing, ya know? But most importantly always always always leave notes saying where you are going. Always. That way when you get knocked unconcious or get your leg stuck in the broken slats of some barn some one knows where you are. I did this without fail. It saved me a few times.
Then a few months before my 13th birthday, when I would finally become a teenager, my dad tells us we are moving. For the first time we are moving out of state. I saw a tearful farewell to all my friends. On the ride out of town in the car with my mom I think, this is it. We are leaving that house and I am going to be free. Because everyone knows, ghosts stay in houses right? And I still thought that was what was going to happen. I was such a cute dumb kid. My fish died, while I held the bowl in my lap. Just turned belly up. The dog got horribly sick and for a while we were afraid we would have to put him down. So he rode in the U-haul with my brother and father in case that was needed. (We're talking seriously sick here folks, the poor thing was puking and sneezing up blood.) The next stop he was better. And so Sandy made it to the new house with us. After a huge gently caress up we finally get inside the house. There is no electricity. It is of course a Saturday and we also don't have the number for the powere company handy. We haul out sleeping bags and crash. This continues for a few weeks as everyone involved is incredibly stupid. In the end we have to have our brand new home re-inspected before we can have any utilities at all. This is late December by the way. It got pretty cold. One day while unloading the Uhaul some AF jets go flying over heard. I think this is pretty cool so my brother and I stand on the ramp and jump up and down waving at them. Then more come across the sky. But they are flying too low and they smack into the tops of the trees. One top breaks off and comes crashing down at us. We both managed to get out of the way but it was a pretty close thing. I had a splinter about the length of my pinky in my cheek. Not a good start.
I spent my birthday night shivering in my room trying to warm back up after my spnge bath. I was miserable and feeling lonely. My parents had forgotten my birthday in the rush of everything until right at the end. Oh yeah, Bexx, happy birthday. My parents and I never did have the best relationship so I wasn't too terribly surprised. But I was still very hurt. I curled up in my towel with my blanket and flashlight near my little fold out chair bed thingy and fell asleep. I woke up the next morning and the flashlight was off. I was tucked in on my bed, wearing a nightgown, and the closet door was open. There had been a pile of boxes in front of the door the night before so I wondered at who had been in my room that it had not woken me up. My paranoia extends to me sleeping you understand and I will jerk awake with the least provocation. I asked at the breakfast table and everyone said they hadn't done it. Odd.
Later my father tells me I didn't need to stay up all night unpacking. We aren't in that much of a rush. This is when I find out I have started sleep walking. Over the next couple of years I sleep walk a lot. I wake up in culverts. I wake up in wrong neighborhoods. I wake up fairly often in the woods near our house. Every time I am fully dressed, with my keys, and no shoes or coat despite the weather. We tried locking doors, including locking my bedroom door. I would go out through the window then. I never end up really hurt, and there doesn't seem to be all that much to do to stop it so whatever. I make friends and like a lot of teenage girls I have sleep overs. Since my parents aren't complete wackos I have a lot of sleepovers.
This whole time though I have been having a recurring dream. I'm asleep in my bed when I wake up. Though I wake up in the dream I still understand that I am sleeping. I sit up in bed and look to the closet. The door goes away. It doesn't open, it doesn't fade, it just stops being there. Through the doorway that I know does not lead to my closet any longer I can see dark shapes flickering. Like if fire were black. It comes closer and I can see that there is something inside it. It is a creature, I can't describe more than humaniod-draconian-reptilian-evil. It laughs at me as it steps out of the ring/pool of flame. I remember the laugh. It is him again. The eyes are the same. He beckons me forward.
I turn to him and tell him where he can shove it. (Like I said, the best strategy is offensive. And I have gotten good at being offensive.) It tells me what fun can be had if I will simply cooperate/submit. I continue to hurl insults at it. Then it turns and beckons to the black flames. I can see that it comes closer. As it does so it resolves int omore life like flames, reds and oranges and yellows. Somehow I know that this flame is worse, this will do real damage to me.
He laughs again and makes a flickering movement with his hand. Suddenly there appears a figure in the flames. It is some one I know. Usually some one I love. My dead grandmother, my sister, my mom, even once my dog but I laughed at that since it was so weird. It tells me they will be tormented until I concede. I wants me to give in. That's all. The entire time it talks the figure in the flames change. So I see the tormented faces of all the people I love. I refuse, non stop. It hurts me heart and sometimes it would scare me but I keep refusing. And I keep having the dream. Every morning when I wake up the closet door would be open again. I got to the point where I just stopped shutting it.
Then one night, while sleep walking I am attacked. Like seriously beaten to hell. The beat me over the head with a rock and leave me for dead. I gain conciousness and stumble home as the sun comes up. I take a shower, get cleaned up and style my hair to hide the head wound. I go to school like every other day. I decide there is no way we are going to catch the people who did it so I am not going to worry any one with telling them. I'm not really that hurt after all. I had heard them talking and they thought I was dead because of the dirt and blood smeared all over my face and how they were glad they had tickets out of town that same day. I didn't care.
That night though in my dreams he told me that he would contnue to send people like that until I submitted. I told him to go gently caress himself and woke myself up. the sleep walking didn't stop, but I was never attacked again.
Now being a teenager with parents who don't give a poo poo, dreams that you have to wake yourself up from, sleepwalking that leavees you moer tired than you were when you went to sleep and all the crap and drama of being a teenager was not easy. I started to get suicidal. There simply didn't seem any reason to go on. I was just so tired. During this time I was also taking French, this does have a point so dont' skip this. In French class we had to choose French names. I had been woken up all night long with nightmares and had ended up waking up in the middle of the street about a mile from my house. I had scratches all over. The day before I had woken up with chocolate all over my legs and sheets. I was tired. So when the teacher asked what name I wanted to go by I wasn't thinking at all when I opened my mouth and said "Georges". Everyone laughed and I played it off as an inside joke with some friends. I told them it was the name of my evil twin. (Whoever figures this bit out gets a candybar after class)
So after years of this poo poo I really starting to get burned out. Everything seems a thousand times worse when you aren't getting any rest. Some days I knew I was hallucinating from lack of sleep. Other daysI didn't, but I still saw poo poo. Shadows that walked around with nothing attached to them. Animals that would turn and look at me with human expressions. Voices that would call out. Or just chatter in the background as I tried to sleep. I debated a few times just telling people about this so I could be admitted to a hospital. But I knew that wouldn't help. If it followed me from KY to NC I was sure it would follow me to the psyc ward too. I just felt too tired to fight.
So many times I would blank out, or not see something. Or something would be sublty moved to cause me to hurt myself. I once tripped in my yard and fell on a piece of rebar that was stickng out of the ground that no one had seen in the 2 years we had lived there. Luckily I was wearing an underwire and it deflected it enough to bounce off my rib and go below my heart. It came drat close to the sack around my heart though. Twice my brother blanked out while driving with me in the car and each time it was my side that was hit. Several tests later and they never found anything wrong with him. I was driving once and looked to my right before entering an intersection, I saw nothing, and drove directly in front of an oncoming car. I was bit by three snakes on three different occasions and only once saw it happen. I was atacked sooooo many times by dogs I couldn't even give you a rough guess. This became normal to me. I won't even go into all the crazy poo poo that would happen to me due to people thinking I was some one else. Or how many times I had to say, "No I am not Amy. Sorry." and in the back of my brain wonder if it really was me, and I was doing poo poo while I was sleep walking.
So, I'm at the end of my rope. I'm 17 now. I've been fighting this new kind of crazy for a little over 4 years. I still refuse to give up but I don't know what else to do. I go to have lunch with a friend at a local Waffle House. For some reason I spill my guts. I tell her about all the crazy poo poo that has happened for the last few years. She tells me she has had those same dreams when sleeping at my house. This floors me. I end up talking to all my friends and telling them about the dreams.
This is when I learn that for years every friend who spent the night in my room had the same dream. Every person who slept in that room had the same dream. If I was there with them something they would dream that I was there too, but not with them. Like our dreams overlapped. And they could hear my refusal, even as they watched their loved ones burn and scream or saw my loved ones doing the same. And my refusal to give in would help them to refuse as well. Until they woke up then they were angry at me. And I never knew why. I just thought all my friends were grumpy in the mornings. I know I am.
So with this new info I go home. I talk to my mother. She has slept in my room, as has my aunt, for different reasons over the years. She tells me she had the dream and suspecs my aunt did as well. She knows a cousin of mine did. Then she drops the bomb. She didn't think twice about it. She simply thought that it was an old dream that came back to haunt her caused by my being gone for the first time on a road trip. You see, she knew the figure in the black flames. This is when she told me about George. The ghost that tried to kill my father and terrorized my mother and eldest brother. (Who remembers my french class name? You get a candy bar! see me after class.)
As soon as she says the name I feel a chill. Then, in typical manner for me, I get pissed. Like raging mad pissed. I realize now that I had always felt him. Somewhere in the background. I knew that it was him in the closet in my dreams. Then I knew what he wanted to. What he really meant when he told me to submit. He wanted me to give up on life. He wanted me to die. But he wanted me to choose to die. I had just gotten so used to that feeling over the years that I never gave it a second thought. My mom tells me that I need to get rid of this thing. No poo poo?! I had a lunch date with the same friend I had already told all this too so I decided to drive out there to see her. 3 times on the way out there my car died. No reason. I kept saying no, and would start the car back up again. I finally get there, almost an hour late, but she waited for me. She's a drat good friend like that. So we sit down and I tell her about what I have found out. Then she says, "So why don't you tell him to go away?" I sit there and blink at her. I for some reason never actually confronted this thing. Just dealt with it and refused to give in.
So, in the middle of Waffle House on a nice bright Saturday afternoon I closed my eyes, and I told him to go away. I told him to leave me alone and never bother me or mine again. Out of nowhere I am struck completely insensinate. I can't feel anything except this writhing mass of hate. "you wouldn't know how to live without me. you wouldn't know what to do without me there. you be lost if I left you" I could hear it all at once. Him saying how much I would lose, how lonely I would be, how different everything would be without him. I agreed. Then I thought back at him, the way I had talked to him so many times as a child, I told him how easier life would be, how freer it would be, how calm, how happy, how peaceful. And I told him how much I wanted him gone. We argued like this for what seemed an eterniy. Then I heard/felt him laugh. It didn't matter I was going anyway. Even as I fought him. I had no clue what he meant. I continued to rail at him to leave me alone. Then I felt my hand. A hand was in it. It squeezed my hand and I smiled. I told him in no uncertain terms to leave me alone forever. And I pushed him away from me. He got less certain then was gone with a smile.
I opened my eyes, certain that I had only blinked. My friend, bless her soul forever, was sitting across from me holding both my hands, tears pouring down her face and squeezing my hands so hard hers were mottled and white. I looked around and kinda laughed. She opened her eyes and jumped up and hugged me. I tried to play it off as if nothing had happened. I was certain the "fight" had only been in my mind. Our waitress came over and asked if we were ok. not in the usual "ya'll need drinks way" but the "Holy crap are you gonna live way". She said they had heard something, like a fight, going on at our table but didn't see antyhing. Since they knew we were best freinds they let it go until she had jumped up. I told her we were ok and she grabbed my coffee cup up. She said it was cold and would get me a fresh cup and asked again if we were ok. We told her we were and she set down my coffee and walked off.
I then asked her what she had seen. She said I closed my eyes. Then I looked very angry. She said my lips were moving but she couldn't make out what I was saying. She said I then got an even fiercer look on my face. Like she had never seen before. Then she said it looked like I was fighting something. That was about the time she realized I wasn't breathing. I wold suck in a tiny bit of air every now and then but not in any rhythm. She also said that it got very cold at the table and I was freezing. She didn't know what else to do so she grabbed my hands, closed her eyes so she wouldnt' have to see my face any more, and started praying for all she was worth. I told her I was free. For the first time in almost 10 years I was free.
I never had the dream again. I never had a friend who had the dream again at my hosue. I had one friend who had the drea ma few times at her house and I told her to tell it to go away too. She did. It did. That was the last run in I had with that. And it was also what taught me that prayer in a situation like that is the only thing you can do, other than hurl insults and tell it no of course.
I wish that was my last encounter with things like that. But it seemed that after that people would find me when they were having problems like mine. Not that they ever looked for me. Just that they would meet me some how, and then they would tell me their story. And how could I not help them out? And that led to some other interesting... encounters.
The summer after I turned 18 I was kicked out of my parent's house. I smoked. Dad hated it. I left. So I got townhouse with my brother, M, his friend D and my boyfriend, J. I made pretty decent money at the time and life just seemed awesome. I had my own place. I was also the only female that lived there. And the guys that lived there knew me. So they knew when to duck and run too. I am easy to get along with but there are some things I will not bend on.
So when D comes home with a married woman and proceeds to have smelly loud sex in my house I get pretty upset. I tell him to be more thoughtful about other people and to tell his skank to wash that poo poo. After that D was a lot sneakier about who he brought home. And when.
So I come home from work one day and I know something is wrong as soon as I open the door. Something smells wrong. I have a really strong nose, btw. I walk in and sniff up the stairs to where all the bedrooms are. J and M are now staring hard at the tv, while a commercial plays. I ask where D is. M points up stairs and J snickers. I glare at them both and get a drink. I smell something again and look up just as a D walks down the stairs. I ask "What in the world are you doing up there?" D immediately gets pissed and glares at the guys sitting on the couch.
"I told you guys not to tell her she is a witch!" My jaw hits the ground as J and M start laughing their asses off. D realizes he has been incredibly stupid. "UH." I don't even want to think about what he has been doing up there. Instead I tell him to get his rear end back upstairs and get her the gently caress out of my house now. I don't know what I had been smelling since I got home and right now I don't want to know what is in there.
I stomp out the back door and he goes back upstairs. Now I'm doubly pissed. I'm Christian and D knows that. He also knows I can't stand stupid people. I just can't. And face it most people who claim to be witches are not the brightest bulbs in the hall. So I get all pissy about it and really work myself up. I here the front door open and slam shut. I walk back in ready now to see what was going on upstairs but D has left with her. He doesn't come back that night either. I check his room and there is nothing odd in there. No incense, no chalk, no nothing. I still can't figure out what that smell was though. It lingered a bit in the room and I could catch faint whiffs of it in the house as well. In the end I open up all the windows and air the place out.
After a bit I get to thinking about it and I realize I over reacted. I also realize that it was pretty drat unchristian of me to just kick her out like that without even having met her. At the time I was just so mad and I wanted her out of my house.
D comes home the next day and is still pissed at my actions. I completely throw him off when I apologize and ask him to extend my apologies to the girl. We'll call her S. I then ask him a bit about her. She is married, what is it with him and married women? They weren't doing anything, only talking. He told her I wouldn't want her in the house so they stayed in his room.
(Now before anyone says anything about how he should be able to invite anyone he wants into a house he lives in you need to know a few things. He would bring the most disgusting people over. And then they would eat all our food. And sleep all over the house. And just be gross. Twice already I had come home to a house full of strangers all over my house and some having sex on my bed. Enough was enough. On top of all that he had only paid one months rent out of the 3 months we had lived there and never paid towards utilities or food.)
I told him to go ahead and invite her over for Sunday dinner. He was shocked and immediately left to tell her. He called me later to say that she had accepted. I told him to tell her she would have to leave whatever charms or whatever it was that she was wearing outside though. I had finally realized the smell was coming from her, but it wasn't her. If that makes any sense. I didn't smell even slightly human.
Sunday rolls around and she comes over. She is dressed mostly in black. I meet her at the door and ask her to leave her charms outside. She gives me an odd look but pulls them up out of her shirt and takes the necklaces off. She starts to set them on the ground and I tell her she can run and drop them off in her car if she wants. She shakes her head, "No one can take these anyway." I look down and see that one of them is a real birds claw. Not too old yet either. I am doubly glad I asked her to leave it outside now.
We go in and I tell her to go ahead and have a seat that dinner will be served shortly. D come sbounding down the stairs, happy as a puppy. We all sit and chat for a bit. Then dinner is ready and we go to eat. As we are sitting at the table eating I notice that she has a lengthy row of very fresh stitches down both arms. Some one knew to go down the highway. It goes from each palm down past the elbow and ends right befoer the bicep starts. At this point I realize that there is something very very wrong with this woman.
I say a quick prayer for protection for my house, self, and guests. I feel a nice calm that I get sometimes when I pray and watch as S's eyes get big. She turns and looks at me. "I can't feel her any more." I nod at her and keep eating. "I told D to tell you that they would not be welcome here. They won't be allowed back in again either. If this bothers you I am won't be insulted if you want to leave." She shakes her head and we both get stares from the guys at the table. My brother gives her a very hard look.
After dinner we end up talking quite a bit. She turns out to be a very smart, nice, and likeable person. She tells me about her family. Her husband and child. And how they are seperated for a bit but they aren't going to divorce. They are still very much in love. The gusy start to wander off. D and J go to work. M goes upstairs to watch Tv. S and I sit up all night chatting and drinking coffee. I talk a LOT and people seem to want to talk to me too. But S seems to want to say something so I finally just tell her to say it. She spills her guts. And starts crying.
She was part of a coven but when a new girl came in there was some tension. She tells me that her spirit guide and the girl's spirit guide clashed. Everytime they got close the spirits would fight and they would both blank out for a time. S decided to leave the coven. She had been having problems already. She said it felt like some thing else was running her life. She was no longer making the decisions. But when she tried to leave it fought her. She would throw out her books. They would reappear on her shelves. She would throw out her charms and stones and such. They would reappear. This kept happening. Then her coven found out that she wasn't just changing covens but trying to stop practicing. They did not approve. They brought her, forcefully, before the group and told her she was not allowed to leave. She was blood sworn in. Which means she shared blood with every women in her coven when she joined. They would not let her leave or stop.
I asked her how they could stop her. She said that they were following her everywhere she went. If she got a job they would find ways to get her fired. They were vandalize her car. And the cast spells and sent their guides to attack her. Her own guide was punishing her too. She would have fits. She would get scratches and cuts. Her windshield broke one day while she was driving, for no reason. Doors in her house would slam shut and keep her stuck in there. Books would fly off the shelves and attack her. That was why she left her husband and child. The boy was getting hurt too. Things would hit him. One day, the last day she had seen him, he called for her and she turned to look at him. He was in the playroom, she was in the study. He was crying. She got up to see what was wrong with him and the door slammed in her face. She couldn't get the door open on either side. And she couldn't break the glass out of the windows either. She could still hear him crying though and calling for her. She finally grabbed her cell phone and called her husband at work. He left early and had to break down the front door to get to the boy.
That was when she decided to leave. And things got worse. Till one night she went with some friends, who knew she was trying to get out, to go mudding. Very redneck thing to do but she needed something to distract her from her worries. She figures a rowdy bunch of rednecks and a lot of beers will do the trick. She ends up having a pretty good time till another truck pulls up. And out jumps the new witch from the coven, we'll call her C, for oval office. S asks what they want. They tell her they are there to take her back. Oddly enough I knew 2 of the people that were there that night, so I got it from 3 different sources what happened. S says no. A few guys step up and tell them to just leave. They try to grab S but the people there are now adamant about not letting them take her. Everyone agreed that C meant to harm her.
There a bit of a scuffle, but nothing big. S was there with some pretty level headed people and quite a few big burly guys. No one wanted trouble. They just wanted a good time. And the new group should just leave. During the scuffle thogh C manages to get a hold of S. S immediately goes into a fit. Everyone freaks out thinking she is having an seizure or something. People start screaming and it's pretty chaotic. My friend K is holding her head so she won't smash it into the truck bed. Some people take off to call 911. Others are trying to hold her so she won't hurt herself. They manage to pin her arms down when one of the witches steps up with a very sharp knife. She slits her arms. She gets tackled pretty quick and one more person manages to get cut in the ruckus. She starts screaming about how she did it to save S. She had to let the bad blood out.
huh wow that's pretty crazy
|
#
?
May 11, 2017 21:13
)
What the H*CK
Wash
