There are images and memories that are hardly soon forgotten, the ones that sit in a young girls mind with no explanation but to say the devil was in this place.
The best I could recall was that I was only seven years old, give or take a year. With five girls in the house and two bedrooms between us, it seemed odd as I recall that incident, that I had my own bedroom to myself. From the terror that I encountered that night there was only myself and my mom in the house. It was blacker than dark it seemed as I lay in bed. I wrote the next few paragraphs for a writing class about that fright, one of many such terrors.
The Thing of Fear
I was startled awake that night by a fearful awareness of a presence. The grey tones of the bedroom cast from the lifeless glow of street lights, peering in from yards away, gave life to objects in my room. Too full of terror, I dare not move, but could only see where my eyes allowed as I watched eery shadows stretching in and out, morphing into shapes of frightful menacing creatures with their devilish forms and hollow eyes in the closed room, watching me.
How shallow could I possibly breath so as to not alert the uninvited presence that I was aware of it? If I just don’t move it will go away, I thought, as I lay on my stomach sensing the growing weight on the small of my back. The evil was planted like a gargoyle perched, awaiting the slightest hint that I was awake, to do more evil, stretching wide its mouth to swallow me up. I was no older than seven as my little body was catatonic, unable to move or run to the safety of my parents or sisters bedroom, only feet from mine. That night their rooms seemed miles away. Not knowing what to do and mute, I closed my eyes playing asleep hoping it would lose interest in me and would leave. I could feel its devilish presence in the room and on my body that night. The evil would return again in other forms and displays.
Who was it who let in this evil into our home? As I think of childhood memories I realize there were so few beautiful, good and pleasant ones. This wouldn’t be the only time I’d experience that dark presence in the room and house where I grew up. I believe people bring in the dark evil presence of fear, or the light of truth and love, into homes where they live or around others. Some call it a vibe or energy but I’ve come to know now as a Christian this presence as a spirit, moving both in our dimension and its own. We feed it with our words, thoughts and actions. It follows us as we allow. We pass it down throughout generations through abuse, pain, rejection, bitterness and unforgiveness. Families feed it and raise it as one of its own then passes it on continually, until stopped, when the light goes on.
My mom in her ignorance brought in the evil spirit into our house. She was superstitious and cruel as much as she was unaffectionate to us. She brought into this house the evil spirit of her own abuse growing up in the 30’s during the depression. Her mother passed on her own evil spirit from her abandonment on the roadside from her father when she was 5, and on it goes. The evil tormenting fear spirit grows in weight and body as we feed it, until someone turns on the light and behold we stop it in its tracks. They always come at night, in the dark, when the light cannot save you.