Tag: possessed

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Personal experiences: Part 6 – Afterwards or wait a minute Mr. Postman.

Australian postbox

This is a six part story about a paranormal event that occurred in January 1980. As usual, it’s told without any embellishments and according to a document that I had written after the event.

The camp ended shortly afterwards, and I went home with a sense of wonder that such a thing could happen. I told several of my friends about it, but few were really interested in my story, apart from that fact it made a good ‘ghost’ story. I told my mother who had no answers, and my father just dismissed it as a group hallucination.

Shawn, however, was never the same after that camp. He became my bane of three future camps. He riled me up so much at the time that I was even contemplating giving him a pounding, but I’m happy to say that never happened. I have to say that he was the only person I ever felt that way about.

When I’d see him at solo competitions, he would just stand there with his friend Terry staring at me and laughing, like Beavis and Butthead.

It was as though he had made it his mission to make sure that my time around him as unpleasant as possible and he did a good job of it, but fortunately, I finally started to come into my own and had much better protection.

I also heard that he was messing around with the occult when he was at home.  I never found out what became of him, or if he’s even still alive.

The incident itself was isolated. Nothing similar occurred on future camps. For that I was grateful, though at the time, somewhat disappointed, too.

There is an allure you have when you’re young to the supernatural, especially the dark side of it. Part of you doesn’t really believe it’s true, and the other part wants to believe and while that was the only camp where such things happened, it was by no means the only event of that nature that happened in my life.

Sadly, my ignorance and lack of knowledge might have contributed to the situation there. If I knew then what I know now, that stairway would have been cleared before anything even had a chance to start.

Before I left that 1980 camp, I made an agreement with Shane that we would write down our own experiences of those two weeks and send them to each other.

I started the moment I got home. I took out my father’s old post war typewriter and wrote a 7 page document on the events. (And also interestingly enough, the light bulb in my room blew out three times during the actual writing, but never before, or after I was done.)

Then I rushed to get it photocopied and mailed it out to Shawn. I waiting for days and weeks for his response, rushing to the letter box each day, but the waiting was in vain.

He never did send anything back. The only feedback I got on it was at the end of that year, where he confirmed he had received it and deemed it ‘too dangerous’.

Also, an odd thing happened with the document. It suddenly vanished, and in spite of turning everything inside out a dozen times, I could not find it anywhere. It only reappeared nine months later, in a bookcase I never used. I still have that original document today.

This was an isolated incident as far as things went with me.

I retell it as a cautionary tale on how easy it can be to attract such things to you.

As intense as this was at the time, it pales in comparison with some of the other things that happened in my life and I really have to admit that it’s made for a very interesting one.

I hope you found my experience of interest.

Next: Who is really responsible for readings?

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Personal experiences: Part 5 – Possessed or Q and A with the Devil.

Statesboro High School

This is a six part story about a paranormal event that occurred in January 1980. As usual, it’s told without any embellishments and according to a document that I had written after the event.

The next morning as I was going down the stairs, I felt that the chain that the cross was on grow hot. It was an odd sensation. It was a definite heat, though I guess I could have been imagining it, too.

Shawn told me that every time he saw the cross, he had the urge to get me to take it off. Indeed, he insisted that I should take it off. Every time I went down the stairs, I felt the chain get heavy, and the urge to take it off come over me. I nearly once did so, but thought better of it.

A bit later on, back up the stairs, I was walking with Shawn towards the doors on the other side of the room when they opened for him. We walked through and they closed behind us. I asked how he did that, as I had felt no wind. He said, he didn’t know. He was just thinking that wouldn’t it be good if the doors opened and they did.

The next day, the temptation to take the cross off was so strong that I actually felt uncomfortable wearing it. The night, Shawn was trying to make me take it off, once again, and I was refusing as usual when he suddenly doubled up in what he said was an agonizing pain. The thought that I should give the cross to him entered my mind. I asked him if he wanted me to give it to him, and he said, yes. I almost did, but decided against it. With that choice, the pain abruptly stopped. I asked him if he would have worn it and he said: No, moods change, and he wouldn’t have given it back either.

Things become quiet after that for a short while. As I wore the cross, I felt protected. The camp went on and was coming to the end. It was only two weeks, but it felt like a very long two weeks.

On the last day, we were all clearing up after ourselves, and I found myself, ironically, being told to sweep the stairs with Shawn. We discussed what had happened, and I asked him about the voice he heard. I was curious about if I could talk to it and asked some questions. Shawn agreed.

The first thing I asked was if Robert Rice died there, and the answer was he didn’t, nor were his ashes upstairs.

I then asked if this was the Devil. The answer was yes. Had he tried to get me before? Yes, he had and was trying to get me now. I asked, why me? It answered that it had failed before and it didn’t like failing and it was trying to possess me. I asked why me and I was told that I was more vulnerable than other people and I expected him to get me. It also said it had posed as my subconscious mind, pretending to be someone who was helpful. I asked if it was after anybody else at the camp, but it said it only me.

I then asked about the pressure we had felt in the stairs. What was it? He said it was trying to frighten us, and it was a stupid thing to have had the séance. I asked what it was trying to do to Shawn when he said the Lords Prayer backwards. The answer was that It was trying to possess him.

I asked if he had succeeded, but he said, no because he hadn’t done it long enough. He also said that he had possessed many people, but they didn’t know it. They just thought they had a bad temper.

I asked if I was interfering with him and if I was a danger to him. He said yes and I was. It told me that the cross gave me some protection, and so did asking for God’s help, but an imaginary cross was not powerful enough and I couldn’t ask for God’s help all the time and I was most vulnerable when I was asleep. It had decided to use the staircase because I had to use it to get to the bathroom. It had taken over Shawn because he was my friend and was using it as a stepping stone to get to me. It also said that it had blown out the lights.

My mistake had been leaving Shawn on the stairway at that time and telling him about my experiences, which left him open to such things.

I asked a few more questions, but all Shawn was now getting was ‘stop it you bastard!’ I stopped and Shawn came ‘back’. He told me that at first he had let me talk to this thing, but after a few questions, he had lost control and it sounded like two people have a conversation. He also couldn’t remember any of what had been said, something I later found out that this was typical of a channel. He also said that sometimes he was reluctant to answer my questions because he felt he was lying.

With what I know now, many of those answers actually make no sense, nor do they ring true.  My feelings are that it was certainly not the Devil, imagined or otherwise. Also, if Shawn felt he was lying, and he didn’t say which questions were lies, then there’s no reason any of it could have been the truth.

I seriously doubt that any of it was true. If Shawn felt it was a lie, then there is no reason to tell me what was really going on, except to tell me what I thought I wanted to hear, and what it wanted me to hear.

This, of course, does beg the question if any channel you get is true.

I know that when I’m writing documents with the aid of my guide, some things flow amazingly well, and I can sense what feels like a connection, or a corridor. Other things don’t however, and I get a sense of anxiety or frustration and I end up erasing what has been written because I’m clearly not either in the space for writing, or the information I need just isn’t available to me as yet.

Sometimes there is also a tendency to write what you think is true, rather than what comes to you, assuming anything comes at all. It’s a trap that’s easy to fall into, and interestingly enough, those are the things that I find out more later on.

In regards to the entity at the camp, I really haven’t gotten any answers I’m happy with yet. I’ve channelled that it was an opportunistic entity who knew who I was, but… that doesn’t feel completely right. I feel I’m still missing something, even 33 years on.

For me, near enough isn’t good enough, but sometimes it’s all I have at the time.

Next: Afterwards

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Personal experiences: Part 3– The painting or painted faces filled with rage.

Image-1 (1)This is a six part story about a paranormal event that occurred in January 1980. As usual, it’s told without any embellishments and according to a document that I had written after the event.

As mentioned the presence of the staircase had vanished one morning, and Shawn and I were there messing around, trying to work out why. Rather foolishly, I might add, as we had no clue what we were doing. I guess we were feeling disappointed that it had gone as it had been rather exciting.

The painting of the red face was hung between the middle landing, and I honestly did not like it. It made me feel uneasy. We looked at the it and I suddenly decided I didn’t like it at all. I felt it would be better if I went and turned it around. There was no logical reason why I thought that would be worth doing, but at least I knew I wouldn’t have to look at it. However, Shawn decided that it needed to be turned around the correct way. He might have just being contrary for the sake of it, so I asked him why had he turned it back over. Did he like it?

He said, no, it just needed to be up the right way. He had to put it like that. I once again went to turn it over but he held me back so I left it along. In hindsight, maybe I should have just removed it when he wasn’t looking. On the other hand, I doubt it would have changed anything.

Between band practices, Shawn became more and more drawn to the stairs. He would ask me to come along. Normally I would, but after a few more times, I started to feel it was time to let this thing go and I told him no. I wasn’t sure what was really going on, but part of me was now saying: this is enough.

But Shawn said he felt he had to go there. He indicated he was compelled to so do, and when I asked if he could resist the urge, he couldn’t or didn’t want to and went through the doors.

I must admit, I, too, felt something drawing me there. Not sure if it was curiosity, or something more. There was one moment where I was alone in the dorm, and I suddenly felt something pulling at me. I could have resisted, but I didn’t. Part of me was curious as to what was happening.  Truth was, I was fascinated with the whole thing,  and wondered how true it was, and how far things might go. What is something tangible manifested itself. That would be a story worth telling others. Even though those were my motivations, I had not really defined them at the point of time. All I knew was that I was feeling compelled, and I was going to play the game. 

So, I got up from the bed, and slowly, almost like I was in a trance like state, made my way towards the doors. I could have snapped out of it at any time, but I was choosing not to. 

I was about to enter the staircase, when someone walked in from behind and broke the spell. The feeling suddenly left and I turned away, and went back to my bed. Five minutes later, Shawn walked in and asked if I wanted to go down the stairs with him. I was still amiable to the idea, and I agreed. We went down to the first landing and stopped. I suddenly felt very uneasy, and decided to leave.

Shawn said, no, stay here.

“You can,” I said, “but I’m going.”

And so I did. As I walked back out, I fancied I heard a voice in my mind say “Now I’ve got rid of you, now for Shawn.’

At that moment, Shawn claimed he suddenly felt weak in the legs and he nearly passed out.  He did not look good when he came back through the doors a minute later. The urge to return still was present, so I decided to just leave the dorm.

The thing about that thought in my mind made, in hindsight, no sense. If, whatever it was didn’t want me there, then why compel me? Did it just want just one of there alone? Did it want me or Shawn or both? Did I just think it to myself?

The only reason I mentioned it was because of the fact of what  happened to Shawn at the same moment I heard it.

That’s the thing about thoughts in your mind. Some of them do come from you, even if you’re not consciously thinking them. Some of them do appear to be from other sources, too, but I’ve have my fair share of random thoughts that lead nowhere, and I’ve certainly have my fair share of thoughts that later proved to be true.

Of all the things I experience, I’d say the thoughts in your mind are the ones that need to be the most scrutinized. Never accept them on faith that they are from another source, but on the other hand, don’t just dismiss them either.

Next: Mirror mirror.