Talking to the Dead : Book One

Introduction

At a young age I always felt like I could see or interact with spirits, sadly my parents never took me seriously when I would tell them about my experiences. At first I was extremely terrified, even to the point where I have a form of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome) when I come across certain smells or feelings that could cause me to remember exact details of an encounter. As the years progressed, I adapted and evolved my stance towards my visions. I learned to study them and slowly understand the patterns they display and conduct.

One my favorite experiences, was the man in the corner. This encounter was so intense on my five senses that I can remember in exact detail of every single time he visited me at nights. The cold drafts of air along your exposed feet, a stench of mud and earth so thick in the air you could taste it, followed by an intense dark shadowy haze that filled the room, and the clicking sound he would make while watching you sleep. When I was visited at night, I could feel his presence even while I was sleeping. I would be so terrified that I couldn't open my eyes, even though I was fully awake-- Somehow, I feel as if it was my subconscious protecting me from what I was about to see. Until one night I felt as if I was brave enough to endure the sight I was about to see. My back was turned against the corner where it typically stood watching me. The air turned cold, the musty smell of sediment and rotting flesh filled the room, and the soft clicking noise returned... I was ready to see it. I opened my eyes, focused on the wall so that my eyes could adjust to the darkness. I counted to ten, hoping that if I set a higher number I wouldn't have to turn. Quickly I turned, expecting to gaze upon a demonic figure ready to consume my soul because I stumbled upon it's red glowing eyes and gnarling razor teeth-- Again, my childish imagination expected and assumed the worse in this scenario. I only turned to see a grayish human figure with no face and no clothing. Once it noticed I was staring, it raised it's head and slowly vanished as if faded into the wall behind it. After that night, I realized that it wasn't after my soul or trying to end my life; What if it was trying to communicate to me?

I started to undergoing various tactics to see if this entity was real or not. One of them was placing my cardboard toy box where the spirit was standing, my motive was to see if the entity would relocate or merely appear within the toy box. Doing this will help me draw a conclusion of what form the entity would appear in, if it was transparent or solid. Over the passing nights it was calm and quiet, wasn't visited for months to come. The next time I was visited, I honestly forgot that I was even trying to undergo this experiment. After I felt it's presence, I quickly turned to a dark room. It was difficult to notice him now, became evident that the entity was not wanting to be seen by me anymore.

Many assumptions came to mind, "Was it because it now knows I'm trying to set it up?" "Am I making this spirit mad at me for trying to catch it?" Realizing that it became extremely difficult to visually see it now, I instead started to understand the patterns of being visited. When I felt the spirit's presence, I woke up and turned my lamp on to grab a journal I kept under my pillow. To my parent's knowledge that journal was merely a doctrine of my life; stories of school crushes and my ventures during that present day, little did they know that wide ruled notebook under my pillow was full of personal experiences of being visited by an entity from another realm. I kept a log of nights I was visited, keeping note of the weather, moon phases, how I felt, what I ate earlier, my current emotions, and more extremely random possibilities that could trigger a visit. After a few months of keeping record, I started to notice a small pattern. He would only visit when I was sad, scared, depressed, or worried. I also noticed he would visit when my family was currently struggling with personal issues, were fights would break out. Could this entity have some correlation with my parent's divorce or many other conflicts that arose during my childhood? I'm not sure. Honestly, I feel like I would want to blame the entity for all those reasons, because at least I would have something to blame for it. But I knew at the time I couldn't be irrational and there was a real reason for these visits.