Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Ghost Story Part 3

(Posted to Weebly 8/19/15)

About a month in at this point for those keeping score.

At this point, im thinking its true or she really is nuts. Or gulliable... So I asked how she knew it was a ghost.

"I didn't know, in truth I had no idea what the f*ck was going on. I didn't even know why Ma decided to stay on my side of the house... I would of ignored it all if the dogs weren't acting strange. Took me a long time to figure out what was there too."

She told me next how when she got home all the dogs would be piled in her room and all but Hoss left when she went in to do her homework. Then she started hear foot steps in the hall. When she turned nothing was there. She got up and closed the door till it was barely cracked and went back to her school work.

Right after she sat down it creaked open and Hoss crawled under her chair, growling. When she turned around it look like the hallway was pitch black. No light, not even from the windows. And the door was wide open. She blinked and it was normal.

After that she always felt watched when she was home. Hoss stayed glued to her, following her closely and growling whenever she felt the odd watched-feeling or heard things moving.

She said she didn't want to believe still. So she just ignored it and tried to soothe Hoss when he growled at thin air.

A few days later her mom started taking pictures around the house. When she asked why, that was when she found out about her moms experiences. Apparently she had the same watched feeling when she slept and sometimes found things had moved. Now she had contacted a medium and was sending her pictures.

She insisted she thought it was insane-She still doesn't think highly of "Mediums" apparently. But when she told me what the medium said, I couldn't blame her for not trusting what they see.

"Ma was being followed by 2 ghost, both looked like my grandma and grandpa. She didn't know what they looked like, Fi. She said it was my grandpa watching us. But when she saw the pics of my side.." She stopped, picking at her wrist, "She said the spirit-my supposed grandpa-hated me. He never hated me, Fi. He never would hurt or scare me. This thing wasn't my grandfather. I knew it. But Ma ate it up. She started talking to it, tried to record it."

I was in shock at that.. I did know her grandpa, he did love her. He never even got mad at her! She was the only grandchild, the daughter he never had.

It was about that time she became depressed.

​Still interested? I'll post more soon.

Friday, September 25, 2015

Ghost Story Part 2

(7/20/15 Weebly)

Apparently Highly demanded.. Part 2

So last time (a long time ago, sooo sorry!) I mentioned the scratches on my friends back.

Well, it was clear and deep. Real easy to see in the picture and it was only the three. My first reaction was "Maybe that big Shepard of yours? She likes to paw at you in your sleep..."

I could of swore she would cry at that... I guess it was stupid to ask that, she hadn't wanted to say for a reason. But my first instinct was to deny ghost and demons. And three scratches, who wouldn't think demons, right?

Well I kind of tried to make her feel not insane and asked her what it was.

She sat me down and told me how her mom had been feeling watched and started sleeping in her room. At first, it had helped her sleep but then she had started getting bothered too.

Her mom complained about being watched again and the dogs suddenly refused to sleep with either of them-all but the oldest dog, atleast who stayed next to her at all times.

It started with the dogs running away and a sensation of being watched while they slept.

At this point she was nearly in tears, I knew it was bothering her to talk about it. It was hard for me to see it, but even harder to believe. I knew she had a wild imagination and that her mom watched ghost stuff alot. But her dogs running out of the rooms? They were clingy.

She went on to tell me how it got worse after 2 weeks of her mom being back there. The floors creaked in the hall, her door would get pushed, and she'd see dark shapes moving in the hall between the rooms.

Made it hard for her to sleep. The oldest dog-Hoss, then moved from his favorite bed in the hall to her room.

Then another week later she started having bad dreams and would wake up in tears, sweating, and heart racing. I asked her about it and she said it was always bad but she could never remember. It was just mind numbing fear.

At this point the shy collie mix who never climbed on furniture started sleeping in her bed. Usually at her side or on her feet-hard to do with a 5'8'' girl in a small twin bed.

Next it started happening during the day. She went home after school each day and was usually alone for about 4 hours. She said it was about this time she got truly terrified.

Interested? Read more next post!


Monday, September 21, 2015

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Editing Hell

( Posted 7/1/15 Weebly)

Seriously. Im trying to edit my second Hell's Playground Book and its taking forever.

On that note, i've started roughs for 3 other books and im in the market for a editor who'd be willing to get percents of the profit over salary... I just dont have enough to hire for lump sums.

Im going to try and post again next week with part 2 of the ghost story! Please.. Relax yall!


Unable to Post

(6/1/15 Weebly)

I wont be able to post for a few weeks, have some work I need finish and catch up on. I'll try to post again before the month is up!


Friday, September 11, 2015

Post of Silence

In honor of 9/11 and its victims im taking this day away from posting on both blogs.  Thank you for understanding!


Monday, September 7, 2015

A True Ghost Story Part 1

(As Posted to Weebly 5/23/15)

I wont say names, I wont give places. This was a really personal thing for a good friend of mine. But she gave me permission to share the story. To let others see, its not fun and games to deal with this stuff. Its not just a TV stunt.

She had never told me about it before and it did make sense when I thought about that time period. Ya see we were in high school. She had never been a happy person but she wasnt a emo "I want to cut myself." type... Then over about a week she wouldnt talk and stopped trying.. She wouldnt draw, wouldnt smile, wouldnt even do her school work..

I figured it was a hormone issue or something with her dad being a solider but she wouldnt say. Next thing I know shes always wearing this huge black jacket (in 100 degree weather!) and wont take it off.

Found out a few weeks later that she had actually been trying to kill herself and couldnt seem to keep herself stable mentally. She was seeing doctors several times a week, on tons of meds, and always looked like hell. No sleep, and lots of abuse hell. I saw the bruises and cuts but I couldnt really help.

After about a year she was suddenly better. No bad thoughts, no more bruises, and not even scars!

The doctors figured it was because she was out of high school. Blamed it on bullying. She never argued. Just went on happy as could be.

I found out abit later after alot of pushing that she just wanted it to stop. She showed me the pictures and asked me "So... How can I scratch my own back like that?" Down her spine was 3 DEEP claw marks. She couldnt do those.

If ya want more, wait till next week. Sh*t hasnt hit the fan yet.


Wednesday, September 2, 2015

I hate humanity sometimes...

(5/7/15 Weebly)

I truely MEAN this too! Everyone suchs a jacka-- Er.. Ya get my meaning.

Now adults... We all know that fun game of Ping Pong you play with any office or return service... Oh yes.. The "I cant help you, please call this number." which turns into "Well you need THIS person, heres the number." and then on and on till your back to the same person.

When it comes to making returns ya think, "Well, they just dont wanna give me my 5 bucks back." Whats BAD is when your trying to give to a charity and they give you that.

Now I was back home trying to help a friend get rid of some stuff before she moved and she said, "Hey Fin, can ya call and set up a pick up?" I say sure and look up the number. No biggy. I call what the site calls "The Pick Up" number. And know what I get? "Oh im sorry, this is the main office. You need to call this number."

Well I bite back the remark on what the site says, tell her okay and think "Well its a charity. Maybe dont have a tech guy on staff to fix it."

So I call the other number and end up getting yelled at by someone about having the wrong number. That Sonofa must get ALOT of those. Because I called main office, told them and they of course apologized and said told me how they didnt understand why that happened. I read off the number i'd called and they said its right. So I called again. I NOT so politely yelled back that its the number the main office was giving me and got hung up on.

So I called a 3rd time to the main office. Got a 3rd person. Read off the number and she burst out laughing. Apparently I was given the wrong area code. Twice. Even after telling the second one the EXACT number I dialed... So she apologized to me, said they probably looking at MY area code when giving the number gave me the right one.

Luckily this one WAS right. And I found out said charity has to type in the area code before telling you the number to call to get a pick up. Im pretty sure that poor guy could tell I was still abit peeved. But who wouldnt be? I've been all but cussed out twice for calling a number I was given!

I thought dealing with a COLLEGE was bad! And I got to tell ya, after being sent to the same person 5 times with the same question as they insist "I cant help you." while every other person says "ONLY they can help you." really works your nerves...

Needless to say I was abit pissy for a few hours... My boyfriend started grabbing a cross and avoiding me till I calmed down. When I finally started letting that anger go he still wont come near me. Says Im giving into the demon and that I need a priest.

Im actually writing this with him sitting huddled in a chair with a cross in one hand and a bottle of water that he sharpied "Holy Water" on and drew a cross... I feel the love...