The Panic Room - (the final chapter]

Saturday, June 30, 2007

/// continued from part 1 - previous entry ///

PART 2: "The Big Burn"

The following Tuesday I came out of the bathroom and heard a man and woman talking from my bedroom. I couldn't tell what they were saying, but the voices were distinctly involved in casual conversation. Approaching the door - KAWAM! I jumped at the noise. Almost instantaneously shirked it off and threw open the door fully expecting to confront whoever these uninvited guests were.

As usual - no one was there, nothing out of place. "Just knock it off!" I yelled. "I want you out of here, whoever, whatever you are! Just leave me alone!". No response was given. Not a single noise in reply - not even the typical scare your butt off deep throttling voiced "get out" like you get in the movies.

A couple of nights after that - while asleep - my parents once again came knocking on the door. Enough noise to wake the dead was going on in my room and I apparently slept through it as before. Dad prayed in the room and made some declarations from the Bible and commanded the thing to leave. The presence wasn't giving in that easy. I guess it or they, whatever - was simply having too much fun.

The next night its fury continued - again - leaving no signs behind. I wasn't much for praying along that time frame but I began doing some praying of my own. When you cant get something done on your own, its always best to call in the reinforcements. So I began asking God to help me out and get rid of this thing.

That Saturday or Sunday night I had a disturbing dream. My oldest brother and I were in a graveyard at night. The moon was full, leafless trees slightly swayed in the breeze. Among the tombstones were strewn baby body parts.., and Alice Cooper's "I Love the Dead" song could be heard playing in the background. Across our shoulders my brother and I carried a body of a headless female corps - and in my left hand, I held the woman's head by the hair.

We walked slowly toward a freshly dug grave, stepping over body parts - and in route I saw a close up of the head I was carrying. It was my mother's severed head! I woke in a cold sweat, shaking.., it was the most terrified I had ever been - and at this point I somehow instinctively knew what was going on. It was like the information was there, in my head and I acted on it. The dream was a clue and the blanks filled themselves in.

Running around the bedroom in my pajamas like a mad man, I began ripping down all my Alice Cooper posters, KISS posters and anything remotely related to dark imagery. I then gathered up the related , records, audio cassettes and 8-track tapes. With the noise I was making - it never disturbed my parents once! The last things I grabbed were, flashlight, lighter fluid and matches.

Outside in my jammies - it was freezing but I didn't care. Bundled in my arms somewhere was the source of my woes - and they were going bye-bye, good night Irene.., and yer outta there sucker! Into the burning barrel they went. Squirting in a more than generous amount of lighter fluid, I was assured a decent bonfire.

Lit a match and tossed it in from a safe distance. The expected "SWOOSH" and burn effect was not there. I walked up close and sure enough, the match had burned out. Enough was enough. Striking another match I touched it to the edge of a wadded up poster. Nadda. It was like trying to burn water. Maybe the lighter fluid was bad or something - so I ran to the workshop and to my sudden pyromaniac pleasure - found a can of gasoline!

I emptied a whole gallon in that barrel..., success was assured. Standing back I lit another match and tossed it in from a safe distance with a sadistically satisfied grin spread across my face. Nothing happened. My grin faded. Doing something very insane - I stood over the barrel, the scent of gasoline was heavy. I lit the match out of desperation and held it to the paper. AGAIN! NOTHING!

Walking away feeling defeated, it was obvious that nothing I did was going to phase this source of my problems. Halfway between the house and the now pyrotech filled barrel, I looked up and said, "God - this is what I believed you were trying to tell me was at the heart of all this. I tried to get rid of it. I cant! I cant do it! If these things are going to be destroyed - you'll have to do it..."

No sooner than those words left my mouth - the barrel made a loud BANG! I nearly jumped out of my skin and turned to see the contents of the barrel burning with flames leaping at least six feet hight. The fire went out almost immediately as I stood there dumbfounded. Approaching the barrel - my eyes went wide. All that remained was ash. No molten plastic from the records, cassettes or 8-tracks could be detected. It was all ash!

I did not need holy water, did not need crucifix, no rosary beads or some modeled out prefashioned prayer jabbered out in some mantra like state - (which is a joke and has no biblical foundation whatsoever) to get rid of that thing or things. I simply had to put it all in God's hands. I couldn't do anything.

I'm not attempting to make converts here - just telling what happened. Its entirely up to the reader to decide what he or she thinks. But note - since that night - that particular activity never returned. While this was not the end of my experiences of the so called paranormal - it was the end of that event and I for one, was thoroughly impressed. The ending of the beast (as it were) was more spectacular than the beginning and way better than what it itself could dish out.

Again - Not everything that goes "bump in the night" is anything more than that - but sometimes, just sometimes, its much more. That doesn't mean you have to put up with it or hunt up a half drunk priest equip with his church ghost buster gear. You simply have to put in a little faith in God and realize we are not completely self Dependant after all.

Not everyone who listens to that Alice Cooper, Kiss and Ozzie Ozbourne early crap experiences what I did. So why my stuff? Why me and not someone else? Trust me, I hope it never happens to someone else. - and if it ever does - I hope they found the same answer I did.

LOL - JUST AS I WAS TYPING THIS ... And this is funny - my small black and white 5 inch screen Tv just fell, for no obvious reason, onto the floor from a shelf! I got up, examined the scenario - and found no reason for it to fall. Still - its nothing to get worked up over. There could still be a sound reason for it to fall that I didn't spot at the moment. Unless I see another vanishing dead baby in my room or a zombie.., I'm calling the Tv falling an act of natural forces. And if it proves to be something more? I'm ready for it! I know who has the power to deal with it and its not my friendly neighborhood Terminex Man, and it sure isn't me.

Posted at 07:39 pm - Scribbled out by Daveman the Cool


	Herb July 3, 2007 05:28 AM PDT I tend to agree with Abby on the growing conviction. Oh, and TV is from the devil.


	AbbyNormal July 1, 2007 10:39 AM PDT It's obvious! TV is the devil, Daveman! The devil!! But really, back to your story of Daveman and the burning barrel - maybe it happened to you because of the conviction growing in you at the time. We have to be fully ready for these things, and only then will they happen.


	plh July 1, 2007 07:33 AM PDT very insightful - great story :) that bolt of lightening isnt always a bolt out of the heavens - sometimes its as simple as stepping off a curb and realizing there is nothing under foot to walk on - the TV - well i can say this - for years ive thought about becoming a luddite and get rid of all my techie toys - even the phone - but alas ive not done it yet - just a side note - the more i spend offline - the more i leave my TV or radio off - the more i get out of the house and walk in the forest or at the beach - the better i feel :)


	Carolanne July 1, 2007 02:45 AM PDT Wow, that is an amazing story! Years ago, people preached and believed that some music was of the devil. Recently I heard someone say that those of us who thought that years ago were "off the track". Your story brings us back to the truth that not all music is glorifying to God.


	Daveman June 30, 2007 09:17 PM PDT Yeah - some people refuse to believe there is a God, and thats their right I suppose. Even in spite of my account excuses will be made and if all else fails, they resort to calling people with stories like this, liars. LOL. And thats okay. I know different - and thats good enough.


	Terri June 30, 2007 08:06 PM PDT AMAZING! Thanks so much for sharing your story. True proof of the power of God.

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