[Whole section chopped out at this point relating to my transition from my old job to my new one. Found a new job within two days of faxing out my resume and transitioned over right away, so everything worked out perfectly.]
So that’s how 2001 started for me. Paranormal activity peaking, and with a new job.
And just as a side note, my new job at ____ ended up being an awesome job, thanks to my boss Felicity. She made it as pleasant as it was. Felicity is 37, and Australian, with short, moppy looking dyed blonde hair and blue eyes. She’s very kick back and friendly and mellow. She smokes a LOT of pot, like, ALL the time, and drinks too, like every night, and just likes to have a good time. She’s very down to earth, a good listener, very generous and giving, has a good sense of humor, is a big flirt with guys, (even though she’s the owner’s live-in girlfriend) and acts like she’s everybody’s friend from the moment she meets you. She’s just everything that Australians are: friendly, happy, down to earth, generous, loves the outdoors, loves to party. And she was everything that the crew at ____ wasn’t.
Right off the bat when she learned that I didn’t have a car and was taking two buses and walking like 2 miles, each way, she immediately made arrangements to pick me up at Portola Plaza, which was half way to work from where I lived, and right near where she lived. So I took the 82 bus out of Rancho, to the end of the line at Portola Plaza, and she picked me up from there. And at night, she’d drop me off there too, so I could catch the bus home. Eliminated me having to be up by 5:45 every day, to catch the 6:30 82 bus out of Rancho, transferring to the 89 at 6:50 am, going down El Toro, where I would exit at Rockfield at 7:10. And walk for like another two miles, getting to work by 8 on the nose. But you know what? Even if she hadn’t offered the rides, I would’ve gone through all that. Just to not have to work at ____.
The activity in my room never slowed down. If anything, it was growing more powerful every day. In essence, what was happening was that it was feeding off of me, and my energy. And growing. And that’s why I always got so exhausted and wiped out after walking through the front doors of our lovely little “home.” There was an interesting little incident around this time, one Saturday morning. I was laying in bed, watching my little personal laser light show of white lines going on. They had extended as far over as my bed now. I was watching them shoot silently through my bed covers, right next to me, and through my arms, and through the cat. The cat kept flinching and tensing up as I lay there with my arm around her. Then I noticed this shapeless orange yellow fire looking blob in the air, over by my closet, smack in the middle of the white lines. It was about 6 inches off the floor, and no bigger than a foot around, but it definitely looked like yellow orangey fire. I don’t know WHAT it was, but I was wondering if I was really seeing it. Until my cat jumped off the bed and ran over to it, and tried to bat it around, to no avail. Her paws passed right through it.
I no longer worried if I was really seeing this.
The entrance above my doorway pretty much began to “glow,” as Joe termed it. I couldn’t see it glowing, literally. But I could feel it. I didn’t notice it until the night that Joe came knocking on my door to ask me something. Well I’m standing there in the doorway, talking to him, growing more and more antsy and fidgety and uneasy with every passing second. Not consciously realizing it though, even though I’m shifting from foot to foot, looking around, antsy and impatient…until finally I couldn’t TAKE it anymore and I interrupted whatever it was he was talking about and said, rather hysterically, “…Okay, WHATEVER! Do you have to stand here and talk about this right HERE?!?” (i was backing away from the doorway, watching Joe’s puzzled look on his face) “I mean, why can’t you come IN the room!?!? Why do you have to stand in the DOORWAY?!? Why can’t you come in HERE?!?!” (continuing to back away, until I’m way in my room now, far away from the doorway.)
“What’s wrong with you?” Joe finally asked me, calm, but puzzled. “What’s your problem?!”
I stopped and stared at him, realizing that hey, that was a weird reaction. Hey, what is wrong with me?? I thought. What’s the problem here? Why am I acting like this?
I just stared at him, blank, staring back at me, puzzled.
“I don’t know…” I said slowly, thinking about it. Then I began to realize it.
“It’s the doorway…” I said, looking up at it. “Something just felt really WRONG when I was standing under it. It was like these waves of chills were coming down over me. Pulsing down on me. I didn’t even realize it consciously when I was standing there, but now I realize what was bugging me…”
Joe stepped into the room, peering up at the vaulted ceiling over the door, interested. He stood under it, now staring intently down at the floor, focusing on it, seeing what he could feel.
“Yup…there we go…there’s one… (pause for a few seconds) …there’s two…(pause for a few seconds)…there’s three…”
“So you feel it too then?!”
“OH yeah. There’s another…and another…”
“Let me try it again…” I edged him out of the way and stood under it again. Steady pulsing waves of icy chill were coming down from the spot above the door. And it wasn’t a drafty chill breezing over the surface of your skin, giving your goosebumps. You know, like something normal. No, this was different, this went right THROUGH you, feeling like nails on a chalkboard. Meaning, it made the nerves in your ribcage area tingle and cringe, like when you scratch a chalkboard. It felt gross. And it was extremely difficult to maintain standing underneath it for longer than 30 seconds. Because your first instinct is to want to get away from it. So to continue standing there is to override a very strong impulse.
Shortly thereafter, my cat started getting weird about that spot under the doorway. If there was ever a doubt in my mind that it was just a “draft” going on, there wasn’t after this one night, when I watched her act like a freak underneath it. I was in my room just up and about, doing whatever, when I noticed she was pacing in circles under the doorway, staring intently up at the ceiling, where the entrance supposedly was. She was pacing in circles, and mewing, and pacing around some more. Then she proceeded to pull a “Poltergeist” and got up on her two hind legs, like a prairie dog, or, like the dog in Poltergeist did, with her her two front paws hanging limp. Eyes locked on that area, mewing nervously. Back down on all fours. Crouched in a subservient position, mewing. Eyes locked upwards at that spot, never letting it out of her sight. Then she got up a little, eyes still locked on it, and did the absolute freakiest thing…She began jumping as high and as hard as she could, straight up towards that area. Like she was on a springboard, boing boinging straight up, over, and over and OVER and OVER and OVER. Like she was trying to leap up into it.
I was so scared watching this, all I could do was sit on the edge of my bed, frozen, heart pounding, hair standing on end. What the fuck is going on??? I thought. I kept looking at the spot, but no matter what, I couldn’t see anything. At best, there was one time I think I may have seen some static-y looking stuff, like what Joe described, but I believe that was just wishful thinking on my part.
This went on for a little bit, with her boing-boinging straight up at that spot, until she calmed down and went back to just pacing in circles and mewing, eyes still locked on it. Until she eventually gave it up.
Okay. So what do we have here then…We have a spot above the doorway that Joe says is an entrance, and that he can see with his eyes. I can’t see it however – but I can feel it. And so can he. And I’ve watched something drift down from there one night, which in fact had woken me up. And I watched my cat watching the thing too. And Joe confirmed the thing I had seen drifting down from there by providing a more accurate and detailed description of it than what I had given, including details I would’ve actually forgotten about. And now there’s this. My cat completely wigging out under the spot. Trying to propel herself into the spot.
Did I believe now, at this point that there was an entrance?
Unless of course, I was too busy questioning it and doubting the whole thing.
And one night in a moment of defiant cockiness, fed up with the entire situation, I stood in front of my doorway looking up at the vaulted ceiling and basically just RAGED at it. I stood there and thought the most nasty hostile I’m-Gonna-Kick-Your-ASS! thoughts. Over and over I was thinking FUCK you! FUCK you! FUCK you! FUCK you! I’ll fucking KILL you! FUCK you! FUCK you! I’ll fucking KILL you, come on motherfucker! I know you’re there, come on! Bring it on! FUCK you! FUCK you! I’m sick of your shit! FUCK you! FUCK you! I raged at it with everything I had, for a good minute, full of passion and vigor and hostility.
When I was done, I stood there, by the light of my lamp, my radio going in the background. Staring up at the spot. And then an cold icy wave came down, INTO the room, where I was standing, and went right through me. I stood there, as it passed through me, and my whole body quivered and shook with the chill, and I even said, “uugggggghhh!” outloud, shaking it out of me, my rib cage tingling like nails on a chalkboard. I felt it was there, circling about me in the room. Waiting.
this is bad, this is bad, this is NOT good, I fucked up, I fucked up, oh shit this is bad, oh shit…And I grabbed my phone and called my friend Julie, in a panic. Her apartment complex was right down the street from mine, within easy walking distance.
“Hi Julie, it’s Carissa…I’m sorry to bother you but I was wondering, is it okay if I come over and hang out with you guys for a little while? I did something REALLY bad here, I fucked up, I fucked really bad, and I can’t be here right now, it’s really bad, I have to get out of here…”
“Yeah, yeah, no problem, that’s fine. Mikey’s here right now too. We’ll all hang out.”
(as an add on that’s kind of funny in retrospect that I could just…..call her up out of nowhere saying something like that and she in turn would just roll with it and remain nonchalant. But you would have to know Julie to understand. That was her personality, plus, she was schnockered on wine half the time anyway, same as me. But it means she had an “it’s all good” attitude about most anything. We’d also already been talking about some of the paranormal stuff [in particular we’d email each other during the day while at our respective jobs, talking about all kinds of random things, including the one time she emailed me with nothing but “Tell me a story.” :D She loved my weird tales of strangeness about what was going on in the apartment, and it helped keep her amused while she was at her boring mortgage company job. Not unlike my website now does for people I’m sure. :D Same thing, bigger scale.] Hence, why I could just call her with something strange like that and she’d just be like, yeah, sure, come on over, Mikey’s here too.)
We hung up, I grabbed my Vans skater shoes, my backpack, and bailed out. I left my light on, my radio going, my door open, I didn’t care, I just bailed, leaving everything as is, trying to get out of there as soon as I could. I told my brother I had to go, I screwed up and did some really bad shit in my room, and I was going to go to Julie’s. And I practically ran out the door., into the night.
It was easy to get to her apartment because it was only about a half mile away maybe at most, and the streets were calm and empty as they usually are in SoCal sprawling suburbia at night. I arrived at her apartment and hung out with her, her boyfriend Dave, and our old friend Mike in the living room. Mike and Julie and I had been friends for awhile; I knew Julie back in high school and she briefly lived with me after graduation with her then-husband when they needed a place to stay (she married at 19, right after graduating when she discovered she was pregnant), and through her I met Mike. And Mike and I and his friends had been roommates actually for a period of almost two years, back in 1995-1997. Dave had heard that I had some weird things going on in my apartment, but he didn’t know any specifics. He wanted to hear what exactly was going on. Sounding skeptical. Not because he didn’t believe in the paranormal – it was quite the opposite, he was a firm believer. And because of the fact he believed in the paranormal it made him feel like he was an expert on the subject. He wanted to see what exactly I considered to be “paranormal.” I could tell by his attitude, that he seemed to think that he was the expert on this shit, and I was just some stupid girl, only thinking I had supernatural stuff happening. I could tell he thought I probably had some really lame shit happening, and I blowing it all out of proportion and just being hysterical, wanting attention.
After about fifteen minutes of me rehashing some of my stories of what we’d been going through in that place, mainly, me and my brother’s attack stories, he went from pacing about the living room looking skeptical and dismissive, to sitting on the floor hanging on my every word, absolutely fascinated. His tone of voice went from cocky and skeptical, to really??? Whoa… Julie was silent during my stories, sitting on the couch holding onto a pillow with scrunched brows, and at first I thought it was because she didn’t believe me and thought I was a freak. She explained that it was actually because I was scaring the shit out of her, and she hates this kind of stuff. And Mike listened attentively too, next to me, staring straight ahead into the air, focused. Going from looking objective and nonplussed, to having furrowed brows, and looking concerned.
I never even got the chance to tell everybody what had just happened earlier, prompting my visit in the first place. We got so sidetracked on the other stories I was telling, and with Dave talking about his beliefs on the matter, that we just didn’t get a chance to get into it. Before I left, Dave gave me a book from his collection, called “Seth Speaks” by Jane Roberts. He told me that I really should read this book, because from what I’ve been telling him, a lot of what I have happening is mentioned in the book. I skimmed the first few pages, as everybody around me talked, and realized it was a book done by a woman who claims to have channeled this entity named Seth.
I don’t think so.
I was skeptical of the book, and told Dave, “Yeah, you know, I don’t believe in this channeling shit. I think it’s just people’s overactive imaginations…”
“No, no, just give it a chance. I’m telling you, it’s a really good book. Just try it out. If you don’t like it, you don’t like it. But I think you will. She gets into some of the same stuff you’ve been talking about. Hey, it doesn’t hurt to give it a chance, right?”
“Okay.” He was right. It wouldn’t hurt to skim it. He was pretty good at convincing me.
Me and Mike left at 10 pm, because Julie and Dave had to go to bed. I had the book with me.
Mike drove me back to my apartment, so I wouldn’t have to walk. But I didn’t go in right away. I sat with him in his car and talked with him about everything for an hour and a half. Til 11:30. I told him more detailed stories of what had been going on in our apartment. But still, I never mentioned the icy chill thing to him. We talked about other stuff too, but mostly the supernatural stuff. Finally I admitted that I was too petrified to go back inside. I told him that I had provoked it and fed it and given it just what it wanted, and that if I went in there tonight, it was going to come back.
We both decided to have him come inside with me and do a protection/cleansing meditation with me. He was eager to help, despite the fact he had to get up early for work. Early, as in, 3:30 am. I was surprised about that, but I think it was because his life was so boring and predictable that he welcomed something interesting like this to stir up the schedule, even if it meant it would disrupt his sleep. I mean, nothing ever happened to him that was out of the ordinary, at least, not anymore. His life was dull. He was also curious about my apartment, and wanted to see if he experienced anything for himself.
So inside we went. As soon as we were through the front door, Joe popped his head out of his room to see what was going on. I told him what we planned to do……And he became totally obstinate about it. Me and Mike went into my room, and I turned on the light, getting things ready for our meditation. Candles, sage sticks…and Joe came in and sat languidly on my bed, half laying down, and started being arrogant about the whole thing. Saying it wasn’t going to work, why bother, don’t even try to do it, it’s pointless…And when that wouldn’t deter me, he flat out started mocking me and making fun of it. I was thinking, WHAT is his PROBLEM??? Why is he acting like this??? Why is he trying so hard to deter me??? Finally I got so pissed I started yelling at him, just like when we were kids…GET OUT OF MY ROOM!! NOW!!! GET OUT, OKAY??
And just like when we were kids, it didn’t work. He wouldn’t get up and go, no, just continued to lay there, languidly, with a cocky arrogant attitude, trying to mock me and deter me. But I kept screaming at him to leave, as Mike looked on, perplexed about the whole deal, until finally Joe did leave. Reluctantly.
“WHAT IS HIS PROBLEM?!?” I demanded to Mike.
Mike shrugged. “I think he knows that you CAN get rid of this stuff. That you ARE strong enough. And he doesn’t want it to stop. He likes this, remember? He’s scared that you’re going to stop it.”
“Yeah. That’s kind of what I was just thinking.”
That whole incident right there should have tipped me off to some things about Joe, but as usual, I didn’t see things when it came to him. I was too close to the situation.
We got everything set up, turned on the purple Christmas lights instead of the bright obnoxious lamp, lit the candles, lit the sage, and sat down on my floor, Indian Style, eyes closed, to calm my mind and get ready for the task at hand. Considering the distractions I had going on – It was already really late, we both had to get up for work tomorrow, Joe’s attempt to deter me, the fact that I have no real proven experience with being able to meditate, and the power of what I was up against – I was oddly calm and level headed and focused. And determined. I was on a mission. I fully believed in what was happening, and I fully believed that I could do something about it. I was very determined. There was something I wanted more than anything – to be safe – and nothing was going to stop me from getting that.
Mike took the lit sage stick and began to slowly walk about my room with it, as it burned, moving it in circles in the air.
“I’m just going to walk around and see if I can sense anything, so don’t mind me…”
“Okay…” I continued to sit, up against the closet door, eyes closed, focusing, and determined.
“You know, to be honest, I don’t sense anything,” he said after about thirty seconds. “It doesn’t mean that it’s not happening, it’s just that I can’t perceive it.” His tone of voice was matter of fact, and I could picture him shrugging nonchalantly, like, Oh well. “I haven’t seen or heard anything since we’ve been here.”
I appreciated the honesty. I preferred someone who was neutral and objective over someone who was a sheep…meaning, someone who’s going to get all hysterical and start imagining stuff that’s not there, just because they’re caught up in the moment. That’s why I wanted Mike to help me…He believes in this stuff, he’s open, he’s very “in tune” with things like that, but yet, he’s still neutral and objective and doesn’t just automatically believe something just because you tell him it’s so. He always has to see for himself. He’s not about bandwagons. He was absolutely the most perfect person for this situation.
“Well, I told you, it’s not like the movie Poltergeist where Carol Ann’s room had shit flying around in the air, non-stop,” I joked. “It’s a little more subtle than that.”
I went back to clearing my mind and getting ready. He walked about my room, circling the lit sage stick, over my bed, around the whole perimeter of my room, being objective and open to this. The cat laid low, under the overhang of my bed, watching us with wide eyes.
Mike came back over to the area where my computer was, a few feet from me, and I heard him go,
“uuugggghhhhh!” And shake himself vigorously, as I had done, a few hours earlier.
My eyes shot open.
“What?!” I demanded. I was thinking, Wow, don’t even tell me he just felt the chill…
He stood there, looking confused, shaking the last of whatever it was out of him, looking about the room.
“I just felt this icy cold chill go right through me,” he clenched his fist up against his ribs and stomach, to indicate where he felt it, moving the fist about that whole area. “And it wasn’t a draft either, like on the surface of my skin, I know what THAT feels like. This was different, it went THROUGH me.” He looked about the room. His expression was now one of interest, like, Hmmmm!
“Something’s here, and it doesn’t like me,” he said, getting a mischievous smirk.
I told him about how that had happened to ME, earlier this evening. And it was the reason I fled my room, because I knew it was out and about in the room with me, and it was feeding off me and it was going to “get me” now that I had provoked it.
“You think there’s something really here right now?” I tried to re-confirm. I was forever reconfirming over and over the obvious.
“OHH yeah,” he looked about. He sunk down to the floor, Indian style too, next to me. He put the sage stick on its plate holder, and closed his eyes, to join in.
We sat like that for a bit, in silence. We never talked about what I was actually going to meditate on, it was just sort of understood that it would involve something to do with protection. Hell, I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t have any fancy, poetically worded spells or incantations to chant. I had to wing it, make it up as I went along. Common sense instinct. I began to imagine a white bubble of protective energy encircling me, picturing myself on my bed, with the ball around me, and then around the whole bed, then extending outwards to encompass the whole room. Envisioning the room as if I were above it, hovering in the air, looking downwards at the bed from the vantage point of my ceiling above my computer. The same vantage point the thing had had when it swooped in on me the night it attacked me.
Then I envisioned myself getting up and walking about the room, still surrounded by this white bubble…
“Whoa, whoa WHOA!….WAIT a minute, HOLD on!…” Mike said, cutting into the silence. He sounded confused and intense.
My eyes opened. “What?” I asked, surprised.
“What were you just thinking?” he asked, slowly and intensly.
“What do you mean?”
“What were you just thinking? Right now? What were you imagining?”
“I was imagining this white bubble of protection around me, you know, and then I imagined I was getting up to move around the room, taking it with me…”
He smiled, and nodded. “Okay, that’s why then. See, I was sitting here, following along with you, and then all of a sudden, there was movement. Like you were moving around suddenly, and I was like AH! What are you DOING?? Stop moving around! Okay, well, now I know why. You can’t move around, okay? You have to stay still. Stay in one spot. Imagine the bubble filling up the room, but don’t move around the room. STAY PUT, woman!” he grinned.
“Okay,” I nodded. I was shocked, but not really, that he was able to read my mind like that. He’s read my mind before though, quite a few times. Which is why I wasn’t that shocked. I’m a loud transmitter. He’s a very good receiver. There have been many a time where my thoughts were so loud they bled over like interference onto his. And lots of times where other people have heard my thoughts too.
I went back to my meditation. I was expecting it to go the way it had the other time I’d tried to meditate, during my “Out Beasties Out” escapade. It had been difficult, and near impossible for me to remain focused. I had started to fall asleep even, from sitting so still and quiet for so long, which was why in the end I had to resort to talking outloud. I couldn’t do it through focused mind meditation. But now…It was completely different. Not only was my focus strong and intense, but the longer I focused, the stronger I became. It was like I was rolling downhill, picking up speed and strength along the way. I was on a roll, imagining the white ball, filling the room, seeing it covering the walls, the floor, the ceiling, enclosing my room completely like a white sheet, blocking off my room. I extended it to include my bathroom, all four walls, the ceiling, the floor, and then focused especially on the spot where the entrance above the door was.
I imagined the entrance doorway as a rectangle, and imagined a plug of white protection, covering it. Pushing back the thing. Pushing back everything. Keeping everything out. I imagined as these things were trying and wanting to get in, but sorry, unfortunately, you can’t…it’s closed off…sorry…I’m so sorry…and I picked up more speed, on even more of a roll, now focusing on the It thing itself, doing what I knew would repel it the most…Feeling love and sorrowful feelings of sympathy towards it. And sincerely meaning it, sincerely feeling. And it was so easy to get in that frame of mind, I was on a roll, rolling down the hill, gaining speed and strength. I apologized over and over and over to it for yelling at it earlier, and meant it. I told it that I’m so sorry for whatever happened to make it the way it is, I’m really sorry, I’m sorry, I feel bad for you, but you can’t be in here…I’m sorry…I wish I could help you, I wish I could fix it, whatever it is, that’s making you this way, but I can’t, and you have to go…you can’t be in here…I’m sorry…And I envisioned pushing it back through then entrance, hugging it as I did, truly feeling bad for this thing, and it’s plight, and then closing off the entrance. With that plug of white. I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…I’m sorry…feelings of love, over and over and over.
I imagined myself as a kid. All my favorite happiest memories of being a kid, everything that was good about being alive, everything pure and fun. The sheer joy of my life as I knew it when I was 4 and 5, which were the happiest times for me. Winter, spring, summer, fall…different memories from different seasons, me, and all my friends…Pure goodness, at it’s best. THIS is me, THIS is Carissa. This is who I am, and what I’ve experienced. This is what surrounds me, protects me. And you can’t take it, and you can’t hurt me. I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry…
And as I was doing this part of my meditation, I noticed that I felt the pleasant sensation of this warm tingly feeling moving downwards through my arms, past my wrists, into my hands, and filling up my fingertips. I sat there, with my eyes closed, leaning up against the closet, feeling this new phenomena, and smiling, mystified at how and why it was happening.
I did a couple of more mental imagery of hugging this thing and sending it on it’s merry way, back through the entrance, back to where it came from, and plugging it up and KEEPING it plugged up, and then I was done.
I opened my eyes.
Mike opened his.
Wow…I said. I marveled at the warmth filling up my arms and hands and fingers. I marveled at how strong and intense and focused my meditation was. I couldn’t BELIEVE it! It was so…so…EASY!! WOW!!
“It’s because I lent you my energy,” Mike smiled to himself, looking tired and weary.
“Really?? I believe it, because it was so easy! It was like I had a boost, like somebody was holding me up, and feeding me as I went! I’ve never been able to do that on my own! It’s like impossible for me to do it on my own. It’s so HARD!”
“I know, meditation IS hard. But not if you have somebody helping you. And that’s what I did. I gave you my energy.”
He looked wiped out, but happy.
“God, I’m so tired right now,” he said. “But it was worth it. I wanted to help you with your room. You needed it.” He laid down on my floor, and spread his arms over his head, closing is eyes a little.
“Wow…Thank you SO much. You have no idea. I couldn’t have done it on my own. I’ve tried before, and I can’t do it. It’s just too hard for me to focus. Not this time though!”
I marveled too at the fact that I had no embarrassment or hang ups about doing this whole thing. A year ago, there was no way I could have been so open about doing something like this. But now, I believed this 100%. That’ll eliminate any embarrassment, let me tell you.
And how did the room feel now?
Completely okay. It was completely “empty”, and clean. There wasn’t one goddamn heeby jeeby thing in the room, anywhere, to be found. Nothing.
“It feels tented!” Mike smiled.
“Doesn’t it?? It does, huh?” I looked around, feeling the vibe NOW. The air glowed purple from the Christmas lights, and the room was filled with sage smoke. And it felt exactly like if you were inside a tent and you reached up to zzzzzzzzzip it shut. Tented off. And protected. Absolutely no vibes of bad presences, roaming about, up to no good. Like usual. Before this, my room had a bad, unsafe exposed and vulnerable vibe going on, 24/7.
Even Joe had noticed it and pointed it out. Only because he remembers the way it felt before the attack. My room truly had been the one safe spot in the whole place. But not after that. Afterwards, it had felt open and raw, and just negative. He often commented that my room, “…doesn’t look right right now…it looks really wrong…” So he knew.
But, all that was gone now.
“I mean, it really really feels okay…” I said to Mike.
“Yeah, it does.”
I was filled with glee, you have no idea. Giddy giddy giddy, because for the first time in so long, my room felt clean and safe and positive. I had no qualms whatsoever about Mike leaving me alone in my room now. There wasn’t a chance of that thing coming back tonight to “get me”. I knew it with everything I had. Didn’t even give it a second thought when he left.
And I was right. Nothing happened that night. For the first time in months, my cat slept peacefully, for the entire night. Calmly with her paws tucked under her, looking relaxed and tranquil. Never once nervously pacing about, like usual, running in manic circles, disturbed by presences, like usual, playing with shit I can’t see…or sometimes can. And the same went for me. I fell into a deep sound sleep, enjoying the tented feeling. The sinister look and feeling of my room was completely gone.
Woke up the next morning. Immediately felt the “tenting” effect, and the complete lack of presences going on. It was SOOOOO nice! I was so full of giddy giddy glee. Smiled to myself as I got ready for work. Went to work. Came home, excited to be going into my room for once. Walked into the room, and could still feel the tenting effect, loud and clear. Giddy giddy again! It was still clean and safe and empty and positive. The look of my room was normal again, no sinister bad dream look. yay!
Went to bed. Experienced a second night in a row of complete tranquility and safety. My cat completely calm and quiet throughout the entire night. This was good! Life is awesome now! I’m so loving it right now! YAY!
Got up again, went to work, came home. Burst through my door into my room, to drop my backpack on my bed, and immediately noticed that
….the tenting was gone.