Starting the very next night after the attack I began sleeping with a lit candle on, for a light source. 26 years old and afraid of the dark. There you go. At the time, the candle was sort of a symbolic thing. Light the candle, while thinking about how I DON’T want any heeby jeebies bothering me. Not that it worked.
If I’d had my way I wouldn’t have stayed in the apartment at all after that incident. It was too much. I was completely freaked out. But the fact is, I didn’t have one single spare dime to my name, absolutely nothing, not even a spare dollar. And no car, and no family. So where could I have gone? With what money, and what transportation?? Right. I was completely trapped. I had no choice but to stay in that hell hole. It just made me all the more resentful towards my brother, and full of rage since it was him who was dragging me down. [ Sidenote: There are things that were going on with Joe, stuff that he was doing, stuff that had happened between us, that I’ve edited out for space constraints. I realize that it would better illustrate why I had so much resentment towards him, but it’s not really relevant to the paranormal. And it’s not stuff I can talk about on a public website. So, out it goes. Also, just have to add that I wasn’t at the point yet of seeing him for what he was, booting him to the curb and walking away, and taking back my own life. I had this obsessive programming that I HAD to take care of him, I just HAD to, because I brought him out to California, so, I couldn’t turn around and abandon him. I wanted to fix him. I had to be responsible…no matter what the price. ($$ quite literally $$…) I wasn’t yet owning the fact that I put myself in this predicament and it was entirely my own doing…despite whatever Joe was doing to fan the flames of the situation.]
The noise that that thing made…it stayed with me for a long time after. It wasn’t something that was easy to get over. I didn’t want to ever wake to that noise again.
I knew that I was going to have to do an immediate “cleansing” of the room after that. My room was all tweaked now, and I hated it. I wanted my room back, dammit. My room was my haven, it had always been the one place where I could go and be safe, and KNOW that nothing was going to bother me, know for a fact that it wasn’t like Joe’s room. Now it was tainted.
The rest of the day after the attack I mentally began planning what I’d need for this ritual cleansing of my room for that night. I went from being an Atheist only months earlier, to whole heartedly planning a ritual cleansing, without hesitation or second thought. Now this stuff was fact to me, no doubt about it. Let’s see, I’d need white candles, and then my sage sticks…I’d need to wash everything that was in contact with that It thing, my bedcovers, all the clothes that were strewn about on my bed, where It had been. I’d have to shower, to “cleanse” myself, in preparation for my meditation ritual, and I was going to vacuum and dust and just clean every surface of the room in general.
I did my laundry, vacuumed, dusted, made sure to “touch” everything as I dusted off my computer and everything on my computer table, where we had seen the It, broken up into pieces. I wanted to put my own imprint back on everything. I showered, and then lit my white candles set up around my room, lighting every corner, the color white chosen for Purity and meditation. Then lit my sage sticks, used in ritual to cleanse and purify an area. And I settled in for my “Out Beasties Out!” ritual/meditation.
It’s hard to meditate. That’s all I can say.
It took everything I had to be able to try and focus and maintain a constant train of thought. Because let’s face it, it’s not exciting. And not only that, but I was annoyed at having to even do this at all in the first place. There were better things I could think of to be doing with my time, but yet, NOT doing this wasn’t an option. I couldn’t believe that here I was, lighting candles, sage sticks, purifying my room by cleaning it, and trying to perform some half hazard, make-it-up-as-I-go-along ritual to protect me and my cat and my room from the Heeby Jeebies. I kept thinking, Damn, if my old self from a year ago could only see me now… I didn’t even know what I was doing, really. I knew enough from what I’ve studied of my friends’ Wicca and Paganism and magic books over the years to know about the sage. But all the rest, it was mostly just common sense.
I finally got to the point where I gave up on trying to meditate the problem away, and just got down to business. Started talking outloud, to my room. I tentatively but meaningfully informed the air that “…Any negative or bad presences or entities need to leave now. You’re not wanted in here, you’re not allowed in here. You need to leave now. This is my room, and anything negative or bad needs to leave…”
Then I paused. And decided to revise that.
“Actually, EVERYBODY needs to get out! Everybody, everything, good OR bad, I don’t care, everybody needs to leave, ALL presences and entities, everything needs to leave, you’re not wanted in here…”
And right then in mid-sentence I heard the distinct sound of rustling, coming from off to my left side. The sound of somebody getting up and moving across the room and disappearing into the corner, where my radio was. My voice faltered, distracted and scared, but I realized what was happening and forced myself to keep going. Keep talking, keep it up, remain strong and commanding, be forceful, and MEAN it. And I did. I sincerely felt it when I demanded that everything needs to get out and stay out.
“…You need to leave now!…and stay out!…”
And it was gone. Sounding as if it had disappeared into the corner.
hmm. That was interesting, I thought. Very cool! [In retrospect, that makes me feel kind of sad actually – any entity that would so obediently leave when you command that “everything must go – even the good stuff” – means it’s not a bad entity. Negative/non-human entities will not listen to you, at all, ever, at any point. They will not be controlled, not by some lowly human. Which means it was probably just a lonely human ghost, and it makes me feel bad that I kicked them out like that when they obviously had nowhere else to go. oh well.]
I didn’t sleep well at all the next night. I never fell into a deep sleep, I was always tense and on edge and woke every single hour, all night, 2, 3, 4, 5, over every little noise. The slightest bit of noise and I was jolted awake, bug eyed, listening frantically to see if it was that thing. And sometimes when there wasn’t even a noise, just because my body was on guard. Constantly sitting up and looking wildly about, finding a room lit by candlelight, flickering and casting shadows. But at least I could SEE what was going on now, if anything were to happen again.
The Santa Ana winds blew in that week, which was the source of the dry hot air and clear bright skies I’d mentioned earlier. One night that week we had a wind storm going on outside. The way the windows rattled and shook reminded me of back east, when we’d get thunderstorms, only now, there wasn’t any rain, or thunder. Just dry hot wind. I had to close my window due to the suction effect of the draft, it kept shaking the windows and was keeping me awake.
I lay back on the bed in the candlelight, trying to doze off. Only now I could hear funny noises happening. Inside the room. The sounds of something banging into everything – the walls, my printer over in the corner on the floor, the closet door, the porcelain masks on the wall, even the under side of my bed.
I kept flipping over onto my back, alarmed, looking wildly around the room and trying to figure out if it was just an audio illusion due to the wind storm outside. Only there were VISUALS going on too. I watched as little white balls of light moved about. They were concentrated up by my ceiling over my computer area. Would appear in the air for a few seconds and then disappear. Then I’d hear something bang into the wall…the closet door…then the windows would rattle and shake due to the wind. I didn’t mind the windows rattling. That was cool. That was nature. And something that was explainable. This other stuff wasn’t, and it was scaring the crap out of me because I was already on edge due to the attack. That whole first week after it happened was the hardest. And there was no real “break” period. Once the attack happened, it all took off rapidly after that.
I kept jumping out of bed and running to Joe’s room in a panic. i was pissed off at him, thinking it was all his fault, he’s the one who brought this shit into the apartment in the first place. And pissed off because he didn’t care. He wouldn’t get his ass out of bed to come investigate, and let me know if I had anything to worry about. And that’s how Joe would always be when it came to my room, and at the time I never understood why. Complete detachment and total lack of concern. It was like a hot potato for him…he would drop it and back away, shaking his head like, Sorry, I can’t help you…Sorry… Never wanted anything to do with what went on in my room, always saying it was “my” deal, “my” thing. It was different stuff than what was going on in his room. He couldn’t help me, I had to deal with it on my own. The more nervous I’d get, the more blank and unhelpful he’d become. He’d dismiss me, like he was this particular night. Couldn’t even give me the courtesy of opening his eyes from where he lay in bed. Wouldn’t even roll over. Would only mumble that it was fine, it was just a static critter, go back to bed, stop worrying, it’s nothing bad, blah blah blah. It fucking pissed me off to no end. Although now looking back the whole “it’s just a static critter, go back to bed” makes me laugh. The idea of there being levels of woo-woo, it’s “just” a static critter, versus a hostile entity. ;)
I yelled at him and bitched him out, and went back to bed, frustrated and nervous and pissed off, all at the same time. I knew something was going on because my cat was nervously running around the room, on edge too. I eventually fell asleep though, amazingly. And like Joe said, nothing happened. Whatever those lights were, that were banging about my room, it was apparently harmless.
And so the banging around my room began…..A new permanent fixture and feature of my room. The sound of something banging into the wall. Into the printer. Into the porcelain masks on my wall. Or maybe clanging into the metal frame of my closet, like it did this one time while I was sorting laundry on my bed…booooiiiiiiiinnnnngggggg!…Me and the cat jerked our heads up and looking bug eyed at the closet. Nothing there, of course. Well, that I could see, anyway. Because the cat could. I watched her follow something with her eyes, from where she lay on the bed. She jumped up and got over to the edge of the bed, fascinated by this invisible thing in front of the closet, following it, but never jumping down to go over to it, like she does with bugs. It would bang into the metal frame a lot, and the closet doors in general, more so than anything else. Not sure exactly why.
And the “sparklies” started up. Which is what I called them, anyway, because that’s what they looked like. They were yellow- orange in color, and looked like embers from a fire. They’d appear in the air for a second, then either disappear, only to have more reappear someplace else in the air, or, they’d “fling” out, like a spark from a fire. They made no noise, and I couldn’t feel them. They were pretty though, in their glittery brilliance. They were concentrated in the corner of my room where the radio was, and where I would sit day after day after work. I’d sit in front of the radio, or eating, or writing, and there they’d be, in the air. The first few times I thought I was seeing things. But their presence increased. More of them, in a wider area, more frequently, so it got to the point where I could watch in the air and see one…and another…and another…and another…No mistaking them anymore. I was definitely seeing this. They seemed “positive,” and I thought they were cute, whatever they were. I didn’t mind, or get scared. I actually got to enjoy them, and took it for granted that they would be there when I’d sit down to do my writing in my book, or listen to the radio. But I didn’t tell Joe about it though, or anyone else. Because deep down…the skeptic in me that won’t die….didn’t truly believe it 100%.
One night when I was sitting on my bed, reading, around 8 or 9 p.m. or so, the cat started flipping out again. Only this time, running from my room to the livingroom, to my room, and back again. Frantically, like a spaz, wild and disturbed about SOMETHING. I knew by this point that something was up. I got up and went looking for Joe. I told him that something was going on, there was “activity” going on, or it was ABOUT to go on, because the cat was spazzing out.
And of course, he argued with me. Anytime I was the one pointing something out to HIM, he’d get obstinate. He’d act bored and disinterested and dismissive, probably because HE wanted to be the “expert” on what was going on, and if I’m sitting there telling HIM how it is, then I’m knocking his expertise down a notch. He thought he was the Paranormal Master or something, this know-it-all expert. I had to persistently argue with him though, to make him SEE dammit, that something was going ON, because hellLOOO, look at the CAT…She’s spazzing out. And that always means that something is happening! Always! Anytime she spazzes out, it means something’s happening!!
“Yeah, but the cat is kind of a spaz anyway, Carissa,” he argued, bored. Dismissive.
“NO she’s not!” I yelled, getting hysterical. “She ONLY gets this way when something’s HAPPENING! Not when everything’s calm and quiet! And look! She’s doing it in MY room…She’s running back and forth from MY room to the livingroom, not yours. So whatever’s happening is in MY room!”
“Well, go look,” he said, shrugging.
“No, YOU go look! I’M not going in there, no WAY!”
“It’s YOUR room. You go look!”
“SO?!? I’m not going in there! And it’s YOUR fault that this is happening in the first place! So YOU go look!”
Finally, he drags himself up off the livingroom floor and goes to look. Once again, like the morning of the attack, he started out with a Yeah, WHATEVER look on his face as he entered my room, which soon melted to a Holy SHIT look. He was in my room for a good fifteen or twenty seconds or so. I didn’t even go look. I sat planted firmly to the floor. I was scared of this shit, and didn’t even want to KNOW anymore.
He finally emerged, walking slowly, with a very different look on his face than the bored apathetic one he went in with.
“So what did you see?!?” I asked, frantically.
“Uh, something just crossed over in your room.”
“Did you see it?? What did it look like?”
“I saw this black shadow thing moving across your room, in front of the closet. And this other sort of translucent thing moving around in the air by the ceiling.”
“What?!?” I freaked out, going off about how this was all his fault, he brought this all in, none of this would even be happening right now if it weren’t for him …blah blah BLAH….and he argued right back, No it’s not! YOU brought it in!! YOU opened a window in your room! I didn’t !! I told you it would happen! I warned you!! But you didn’t listen!!! Noooooo, you had to sit there, day after day, in the same spot, and I told you!!! I told you this would happen Carissa…..
Back and forth and back and forth…
“Yeah, but YOU opened the first window, which is how the second one opened!! If you didn’t open the one in your room first, then they wouldn’t have been able to get out to get into my room!!! You see?!?” I said.
“No, that’s not how it works!!! Your window has nothing to do with mine!! It’s all yours!!! You have abilities and you don’t even know it! You’re more powerful than I am, Carissa!!”
No I don’t!!!
Yes you do!!
NO I DON’T!!! I DO NOT!!!
The whole thing was hysterical. We were being brother and sister, all the way, there was no doubt about the fact we were siblings, squabbling and bickering, like only siblings do, just like when we were kids. !
So the flare up died down, and I actually believe it or not, could accept some of Joe’s side of the argument. Put aside my “I’M RIGHT AND YOU’RE WRONG!!!” usual attitude, and was like, hmmmmmmm….maybe he is right. Maybe I did do this! Maybe it had nothing to do with him!! Because afterall, I didn’t have a problem in my room for months and months. Joe had problems in his, right from the first week. But my room was squeaky clean, for all that time, not one incident, nothing, nada, zip, zero, zilch. Until I spent the last few months stewing and brooding in one spot, day after day, thinking hostile violent resentful pissed off thoughts. hmmm.
So I told him that alright FINE, maybe you’re right. Maybe I did do something to bring this on. Hey…let’s go look in my room…see what’s going on now……
Up we stood, and went in, cautiously looking about. I couldn’t see anything myself. I was looking for the black shadow thing and something translucent hovering about in the air. However, Joe said he could still see activity.
“There’s definitely some activity in here still.”
“Oh yeah?? Where?”
“Over there.” He pointed to the corner where my radio was.
“What does it look like?”
“WHAT?!? NO WAY!” I said. I hadn’t told him about the “sparklies” in the corner by my radio. I still thought I must be imagining it. I told him all about my experiences with them. He nodded.
“I told you Carissa…you have a lot of abilities, a lot of energy, and you don’t even know it.”
“Well, I’m sick of this crap happening in my room. I don’t want it anymore! I want it all to stop.”
“Then tell it to.”
“ALRIGHT!!! EVERYBODY OUT!!!” I yelled, grinning. “OUT!!!”
“GET THE HELL OUT!!” Joe joined in, grinning too.
“EVERYBODY, GET THE HELL OUT!! NOW!!! YOU’RE NOT WANTED IN HERE ANYMORE!!! GET OUT!!! NOOOOOWWWWW!!!!!!!”
We laughed, knowing that if anybody had walked in and saw us right then, they’d think we were nuts. It was funny.
I didn’t like the fact that there were “cross overs” happening in my room now, “blowing through” as Joe puts it. That was not cool. But after we did that GET OUT! thing, the sparklies stopped. And to my surprise, I instantly regretted telling stuff to get out of my room.
Now, I’d come home and there wouldn’t be anything there. No sparklies whatsoever by my radio. Completely bare. I didn’t realize how used to them I’d gotten until they day they were no longer there. And now the room felt empty. I felt kinda…lonely, actually. I missed looking up from my writing, and seeing a sparkle sparkle here, and a sparkle sparkle there…pretty and cute and sparkly…not bothering anybody, not doing any harm, just…there…sparkling…Sure, I sounded like a nut, but I missed it.
I went back and forth with whether or not I should invite them back.
Finally, I caved in about a week later and said, “I’m sorry, If you want to come back, you’re welcome…but JUST the sparklies, whatever you are…you can come back…”
I saw one lone blip of a sparkle, right then. I’m not even kidding. Another lone blip after a bit. But they never did come back the way they were before.
Then there was the night that there was something in our livingroom. Crossing over. Blowing through. Who knows what it was doing. But it was there. The cat was wigging out, of course, again. And this clued us in that something was going on. Joe’s room was actually experiencing a moment of calmness, so it wasn’t him. And he checked out my room. And my room was fine. So it wasn’t me. So that left the rest of the apartment. Me and Joe poked our heads into the livingroom, to check things out.
We had the livingroom light off, save for the entry way light, which cast enough light into the room to see things just fine. But yet it kept it dark enough so that you could see any subtle contrast of color differences, or lighting.
“You see that?!?” Joe said, pointing up to the vaulted ceiling, on the far end of the room above the sliding glass doors.
I squinted, looking to where he pointed. Sure enough, I could see it too.
“Wow!! What is it?!” I said. What we were looking at was a shapeless blobby pale bluish white cloud looking thing, moving slowly about in the air. It slowly changed shape, moving about. It always stayed up by the ceiling, drifting only from the left to the right. Again, no noise. From our vantage point, it was about four feet in length.
The cat was scared out of her mind. She kept darting into the living room, then would look up at the bluish white cloud blob in the air, bug her eyes out and freak out and run back into my room. Doing this over and over, as if she was trying to check and see if it had gone away yet. I finally caught her one of the times she dashed back in and held onto her. And she panicked, and began clawing at me frantically, and fighting with me to put her down, all the while, mewing these scared little mew sounds, while whipping her head backwards to keep looking over her shoulder at this thing, then fight with me some more.
The usual questions ensued…What is it? What is it doing? Do you think it can see us? Does it know we’re here?…wow!!!!!!!!
Of course, we had no answers.
I went back into my room. I’d seen enough. Our apartment was becoming like Grand Central Station.
Soon after, the “white lines” started up in my room.
The first time I ever saw them was at night. I was laying in bed with my cat, with my purple Christmas lights on, just relaxing and spacing out. I began to realize that I was seeing these white lines in front of my closet that looked like laser lights, shooting rapidly (and silently) down from the ceiling, then moving straight, off to the left. Down, and over. Down, and over. I did everything I could think of to see if it was a trick of the eye…blink blink…rub rub…blink and rub my eyes some more…try moving my eyes around, make sure it wasn’t some illusion that happens when you stare repeatedly at one spot…make sure it didn’t have anything to do with shadows from my vertical blinds. Look away, to a different part of my room, then look back again…they were still there.
I made my brother come check it out. I was kind of hyper and excited about it, like, Look! Check it out!! Do you see it?!! Right there! See! There’s another! And another!! Can’t you SEE this?! Wow!! What is this?!
He was puzzled at first. Couldn’t see it, to my amazement. I couldn’t believe I was seeing something he wasn’t.
“How can I see them, and you can’t?” I asked, confused.
He shrugged. “We don’t always see things the same way. You have different stuff happening in your room than what I have. Plus, I just see things differently than you.”
He eventually did admit to seeing something though. He took the time to lay on my bed, head resting on his arms, to watch and make sure he was seeing the same thing. When he was able to point a few out to me, then I knew, Okay, I’m not imagining this.
“What the hell are they?!?” I asked excitedly.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, mystified. It was a first to him too. He was unconcerned with the whole thing though, and eventually went to bed.