I’ve never been much of a writer. You could say I’ve always been a bit of a loud mouth. I’ve always said what’s on my mind the second it came to my mind but for some reason, I have trouble expressing to others what has been happening to me lately. And every time I do try to tell someone what’s going on, they discard it as nothing but I know now that this isn’t nothing.
It all started a couple weeks ago. Maybe three weeks or so when I decided to have a night in to myself and wanted a little bit of a thrill so I rented the movie Exorcism of Emily Rose. I’ve never been one to believe in the supernatural or heaven and hell but I’ve always been up for a good scare. The movie was so so but it definitely provided a dark vibe that carried on after the movie had ended. I also noticed that 3 a.m. had a particular role in this film and I knew that since I have now seen this movie that, of course, I would be waking up at 3 a.m. And sure enough, like clockwork, I woke up at 3 a.m. I was more annoyed than anything that I’d woken up in the middle of the night until I realized that my room was pitch black. I’m not talking about the pitch black where you can’t see anything but I’m talking about the pitch black where it’s blacker than pitch black. I don’t know how else to describe it. The only thing visible was the light on my alarm clock telling me what time it was. I reached out to turn on the lamp plugged in on my nightstand when it sounded like something was digging through my garbage can next to the nightstand. The hairs on the back of my neck froze because whatever was digging through my garbage can was digging with pure intensity. Almost like it was looking for something but also as if it were trying to distract me. I laid there for what felt like eternity until I jumped out of bed, over my nightstand and garbage can, and basically punched a hole through the wall trying to turn the light on. I wasn’t about to use a little nightstand lamp to light my room. I needed light everywhere. And the second the light turned on, I whipped around to see my garbage can had been pulled to the center of my room. It hadn’t been tipped over or spilt and all that was inside was a few different pieces of paper. The digging had also stopped the moment the light had been turned on and I couldn’t find an explanation for the digging or the garbage can being in the middle of the room. I have no pets, the ceiling fan wasn’t on, and no rats or pests (as far as I know). I told this story to some friends and they all said it sounded like I was having some kind of sleep paralysis or night terror and I agreed with them. I chalked it up to nothing more than my late night imagination playing tricks on me.
This all changed last night when I woke up unable to move and at what I’m assuming was 3 a.m. again. I’d thought about what my friends had said about sleep paralysis but I could swear I felt someone crawling over the top of me. They were making their way from my toes to my face. It felt like eternity! Every time I tried to scream it felt like the air was being sucked from my lungs. I was helpless. Feeling stupid for being scared of sleep paralysis but also terrified about the fact that it felt real. It felt like it was really happening and all of the sudden, I heard a click and it went away. The second it went away I could move again, sat up in bed, and realized that the click was my clock turning from 3 a.m. to 3:01 a.m. This would have mostly just been some kind of terrifying coincidence if I hadn’t looked forward at my window to see a woman standing in my yard FACING ME. I went cold and rubbed my eyes and just like in your cliche scary movie, she was gone. I didn’t sleep a wink for the rest of the night.
Currently it’s 3 a.m. again and I now know it isn’t sleep paralysis or night terrors. This is real and it happened faster than I could have imagined. I know this because she’s standing in front of me. Just standing there, holding my intestines and reflecting the orange light from the fireplace. Her face is black with shadow but I can see the fire reflecting off her pupils. She’s just standing there. She’s letting me write this. I think she wants me to write this but I don’t know how much longer I can go. My pencil feels like a sledge hammer & the rest of me is cold and numb. I hope someone can decipher what I’m trying to say because I can barely read this through my blood. I’ve tried to crawl to the phone but my insides keep getting in the way. I don’t know if there’s much else for me to do. I can only sit her—
EGO VENIAM POST TE
EGO VENIAM POST TE
EGO VENIAM POST TE
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