The Building
I hear stories about people being 'sensitives' or 'clairvoyant' or whatever. People who are more likely to see and be affected by the paranormal (in regards to ghosts, demons, angels, etc.). I don't know if it's true or not, don't really care, but if it is, I am one for sure.
My whole life I remember seeing/hearing what I always called 'ghosts'. I don't call it that now, though, since I really have no idea what they are. I'll spare my stories from when I was really young because that could have just been a child's imagination. I'll start when I was nearing 13.
I lived in this huge Edwardian farm house. Very very old, very big. It was on a farm. On this land there was a double wide trailor used as a guest house and a larger stone building that was at one time a slave house. We always just called it "The Building".
The Building was a scary fucking place. I have nightmares about it even today. The bottom floor had been remodeled to act as a garage. I didn't really mind being on the bottom floor. Upstairs there were two pretty large rooms. The one on the left was just full of junk and trash and whatnot. Nobody ever really went in there. The one on the right was filled with antique bookcases and a shit ton of books. It also had a couch, a rug table, etc. It was sort of a clubhouse for us (the kids). There was never electricity, though.
Anyway, sometime between my 10th and 11th birthday my uncle and his family were evicted from their home. My grandmother, who owns the land and lives in the house with my immediate family let them live in the trailer. Every day my cousins, my brother, and myself would hang out in The Building. We never, *ever* went into the left room. We hated it. We all got creeped out by being in there. Well, one night, we had the grand idea to sleep out in The Building, of course, we were going to stay in the right room, which I had grown comfortable with as long as I wasn't alone. Around midnight, they grabbed me and threw me into the left room (I'm the youngest, all my cousins are teenagers at this point).
They literally threw me into the room, slammed the door shut, and locked it with a skeleton key. Holy fuck. I can never remember a time in my life where I was more terrified. Remember, there is no electricity in The Building, and it's dark as fuck. The only light is coming from the two small windows. I'm out in the country on a farm, so no street lights or anything. It's pretty close to pitch black.
I was freaking out bad, slamming on the door, screaming, kicking it. it wouldn't budge. Fucking solid oak door from the twenties. They don't make them like that anymore. My cousins were all outside laughing and screaming, yelling things like, "YOU'RE GONNA DIE' and 'THE DEVILS IN THERE', things of that nature. Once I managed to tire myself out, and my captors had retired to the other room, I slumped against the back of the door. This is where the true fear set in. True, honest to god fear. Not terror, terror is a more "FUCK GET AWAY" fear is when you can't move, you're sweating ice bullets and you are positive your soul is about to be eaten by a giant four cocked clown.
So I'm curled up with my knees to my chin, shaking at the back of the door. not ten seconds later, I shit you not, I hear a fucking gravelly, entirely alien voice. I really can't describe the sound of it, but no human could possibly sound like that. Imagine if a pig fucked a goat, and the resulting pig goat fucked a dog, THEN the dog-goat-pig started speaking English. Anyway, the voice said, quite clearly, "They're right."
Fuck. My eyes got even wider and my jaw hit the damn floor. I didn't know it was possible, but I started shaking even more violently. My heart was going a mile a minute. I didn't even scream, I didn't even jump or try to open the door again. I couldn't, I was frozen.
I hear something again. It's like nails on chalkboard. The left window fucking shatters. Goddamn shatters. I don't know how, maybe a bat hit it, or maybe my cousins were outside fucking with me and shot it with a bb gun. I don't know, but it fucking shattered.
I literally shit my pants. I start crying and and fall over on the floor. I feel like I'm having a heart attack. I start screaming, "PLEASE STOP PLEASE STOP OH GOD STOP". It seems like the whole world is shaking. Noises all over, shit moving around, the intact window rattling, and this god awful cackle.
Then the single greatest thing to have ever happened to me happened. The fucking door opened, light from battery powered lanterns fill the room and a feeling of such sweet relief rushes over me. My guardian angel is there, my Valkyrie. Mom. My mom is standing there looking completely bewildered. She grabs my by the hand and picks me up and hugs me.
She lead me back to the house, me sobbing the whole way. She made hot chocolate just for me. I love that woman.
Written on /x/ circa 2011
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