Of Nightmares and Spirits by Fiona Estelle Hamilton (best motivational books of all time .TXT) 📕

Around six o’ clock this evening, I received a phone call from Daniel. He was telling me about how he has had odd occurrences in his home lately. Lights have been flickering on and off, his power will occasionally go out then come back on moments later. When somebody calls him, his phone will go to static. Furniture has been moved around and often has been turned over when he is not at home. Daniel spoke of an occasion where he left the house for a small get together with his family, and when he came home, his entire sofa was flipped over, his kitchen table was knocked over, as well as a few more objects strewn about in his living room.

At first, Daniel thought that someone was breaking in and doing all of this in an attempt to steal from him. The more it happened, however, Daniel thought it could possibly be someone or something else.

Then he began to tell me he had been having nightmares. Once he described to me what happened in some of them, I then knew this could not be a coincidence. Daniel had also gotten to the point where he too frightened to sleep, in fear that the dreams would keep getting worse.

“I just don’t know what to do anymore,” He told me. “I’m so scared to go to sleep. Do you have any suggestions on what I should do?”

I paused for a moment. I decided I would tell Daniel what has been going on. I needed to tell somebody. Maybe Daniel could be of some help. It took me approximately one hour to explain what was happening.

Afterwards, Daniel apologized for what happened with the Ouija board. “This is my fault,” Daniel said shakily, “I made us contact the spirit world and now we’re both paying for it. I should have never…” His voice trailed off and he stopped speaking.

I waited for him to resume his sentence, but he never did. “Daniel?” I called softly; suddenly worried that something may have happened to him.

“Listen to me; if I get harmed in anyway, you know what did it.” Just as quickly as Daniel’s voice came back, it went away as the phone clicked ending our call.

March 30, 2013

It has now been five months since the occurrence with the Ouija board. It has been two months since Daniel committed suicide. I’ve lost count of the weeks due to my grief. I’m still in shock. I can’t believe that he killed himself. I feel awful about it. I wish I had done more to help him. Three days after our phone call, Daniel jumped off a bridge. I didn’t see him do it; rather I was notified by his father of his death.

At the time, I almost told Daniel’s father about the Ouija board. The only reason I didn’t was because I would sound mad, and Daniel’s father already had enough on his shoulders with the death of his son. I did not wish to burden him with the story of what happened on Halloween. He would never have believed it, even if the story came from Daniel’s lips.

When I got the call of Daniel’s suicide, I knew it had to have been the spirit from Halloween. It drove him mad. I don’t know what else it did to frighten him, but the spirit did it enough to cause him to kill himself. I have been very frightened these last few weeks. Without Daniel to torment, the spirit will now come after me. It already was toying with my mind, causing me to have nightmares. Now it’s going to do more than that. This spirit is going to do to me exactly what it did to Daniel. It is going to scare me. It is going to try to drive me insane. I cannot let it win. It wants to feed off of my fear. It is one of the ways an evil spirit can possess a human vessel. If I don’t show fear, the spirit cannot take over my body. I must do whatever I can to protect myself.

April 5, 2013

Yesterday, I went to a priest. I asked for his guidance. I told him what has been happening I explained to him what happened on Halloween and what has been happening since then. He listening quietly, patiently, nodding every few seconds.

When I finished, the priest said I should never have agreed to the séance. He explained that Daniel and I had exposed ourselves to something evil the second we touched the planchette. When I asked him if there was anything that could be done, he replied by giving a small prayer book and a bottle of holy water.

“Pray,” The priest said, “Pray for Jesus and St. Michael the Archangel to assist you. Pray for their guidance and blessings. Ask them to help cleanse you and your home of the evil presence. If all else fails, come back to me and we will see about getting you an exorcist.”

A chill ran down my spine. “An exorcist?” I asked. I shuddered at the thought of this thing taking control of my body and having no control of my actions and words. The priest assured me that the exorcism would be for my home, and not necessarily for me. I am praying it will not come to that.

April 8, 2013

For the past three days, I have been sprinkling holy water around my house in hopes that the evil spirit will leave. I do not know if it is working or not. When I returned home from my visit with the priest, I immediately began to pray. I burned incense and went around my house, trying to purify it while I continued to pray. I have burned seven- day candles for the Virgin Mary, and have called out to St. Anthony, the saint of miracles. I am hoping this will work. I do not want to have to go back and request an exorcism for my house; or worse, for myself.

For extra protection in my bedroom, as well as myself, I have hung a crucifix above my bed. I also sleep with a rosary under my pillow now. The priest told me I must have faith in these objects in order for them to work. I have slept somewhat better now that I have a rosary. I felt a great deal of comfort from sleeping with it under my pillow the first night, and it has continued to comfort me. I am somewhat certain the evil spirit will stay away now.

April 9, 2013

Something awful happened last night. Around ten o clock p.m., I decided to go to sleep. I slept as I normally did, only sometime later, something woke me up. I felt something dripping on to my forehead. At the time, I was so tired I thought it could be a leak in the ceiling, and decided I would attend to it in the morning.

The dripping continued still. I grew irritated and wiped my forehead, only to discover the liquid was not water. I turned on my lamp and saw that this liquid was blood. Horrified, I began looking up at the ceiling for the source. I saw nothing.

For some reason or another, my attention was directed to the crucifix hanging over my bed. At first, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. I thought that I was dreaming, but I wasn’t. The wounds of Christ were bleeding profusely. Not just the hands and feet, but the side wound as well. I also took note that the statue was bleeding from the eyes.

At this point, I didn’t know how to react. I didn’t know whether to be scared, disgusted, or shocked. I reached for my Rosary, but only grasped beads. I threw my pillow aside and found out that the spirit had broken my rosary. The only object that was not in pieces was the crucifix on the end of the rosary. I did not sleep in my bedroom for the rest of the night.

April 14, 2013

I have gone back to the priest today. I told him what happened with the bleeding crucifix. At first, he seemed somewhat skeptical, but the more I spoke of the incident, he appeared to grow more concerned.

“You say you also found your rosary in pieces under your pillow correct?” He asked. I took a sip of my water, nodding. The priest explained that this spirit—this demon, is now trying to infest itself within me. It was now doing everything it could to try to take over my body. The priest told me that he will arrange and exorcism on my house, if I can just wait a few more days.

“Perhaps you should stay with a member of your family,” He kindly suggested

Who is going to believe me? I thought miserably. My mother would think I’m having a mental breakdown, due to Daniel’s death, and would most likely try to commit me to a mental hospital. My father would declare that I’m acting ridiculous. He was a no nonsense kind of man. Oddly enough, my father appeared to have died from a mental breakdown. Literally dying of fright, due to a phobia of some sort.

The priest’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Above all no matter what happens, continue to pray. Surely God will deliver you from this, my son.” I was not comforted by his words.

April 16, 2013

It has gotten worse. I don’t know how much longer I can stand this. The dreams are getting worse; the demonic activity is getting worse. No matter how much I pray, it seems that it isn’t working. My faith is beginning to waver. I am beginning to wonder just what kind of “loving God” would allow his children to suffer like this. Now, I am starting to hear a voice whisper my name at night. Its tone is raspy, almost like a growling sort of whisper. It’s keeping me awake. The crucifix is continuing to bleed. I am having visions of Daniel in Hell. He is screaming and wailing in agony, as his flesh is being torn off of his bones in a slow, torturous manner. I am praying he is in a much better place. I keep trying to remind myself that it is the demon trying to get in my head. While I am writing this, I am trying to block out the malicious laughter I am hearing from upstairs.

April 19, 2013

I have decided I am going to die. I am going to make sure that the demon cannot have my body. It has been far too long. I cannot wait for an exorcist any longer. I must take care of the problem myself. In order to get rid of the demon, I need to get rid of myself. It won’t take me then. I hope. I am hoping that I will be reunited with Daniel and my father in heaven. I pray that God forgives me what I have done. I pray he forgives me for all of my sins.

Daniel, if you can hear me, I am coming home. It won’t be long, old friend. To anyone who is reading this, please take my story as a warning. Please do not ever even think of picking up an Ouija board. Do not let what happened to me, happen to you. Please heed my warning.

Just two days later, it is believed that the young man, Jonathan Richards set his own house on fire. His story has not been investigated fully yet, but our hearts go out to the man’s family in their time of grief.