I packed up my things as quickly as possible, trying at the same time to be thorough because I didn't want to leave behind anything that she could use for any other rituals. I don't know much about the occult, but I doubt that she needed those photos or that pincushion for the ritual. She could find more needles, buy another pincushion, and print more photos. But it couldn't hurt if I took them, right?
After I had gathered all of my things, I decided to look amongst her belongings to ensure she wasn't hiding anything else of mine. I didn't find anything, but I decided to take the iPad that she had in the nightstand. About the only thing she would do when she got home after she began disappearing was spend time on the iPad. I know that it's theft, but she also was planning on doing some sort of magic on me (or already had), so I decided to take it and call us even. Maybe there would be something on there to indicate what she'd been up to.
I went to my bank and closed out my account, making sure that I had plenty of cash. I didn't want to take any unnecessary risks. I turned off the GPS on my phone so that the location couldn't be tracked. The only thing that I could think of that was a little risky is that I kept my own car, but I couldn't afford a new one or to keep renting one. Also, some relatively small, random cult is going to have a hard time tracking a one silver Toyota Corolla (Is there a spell for that?). I got in the car and drove.
The whole time I was driving, I kept getting texts from my girlfriend, asking if I thought that I would be home later that evening from my business trip. I tried not to let on that anything was wrong and told her that I was on my way to the airport. It was 4:45pm when I told her that, so I knew it wouldn't be long until she realized I'd left her.
I kept driving. It was 5:10pm, and my phone started vibrating like mad with texts and phone calls, all from her. I ignored her and kept driving. I was starting to get tired and was dangerously close to falling asleep. The adrenaline that had been pumping through me for the last 24 hours finally had stopped, and the lack of sleep was taking its toll on me. I decided to take a random highway and drive a little further until I arrived at a tiny little town that only had one small hotel. It was in the middle of nowhere, and there was no way that anyone could find me.
Just to be safe, I parked my car out of sight away from the hotel, checked in using an alias, and paid in cash. I went into the room and checked my cell phone. Her texts and voicemails were a load of crap, just questions about where I was and what I was doing. She asked me why I left her and why I didn't say anything beforehand. She told me how hurt she was and how much she wanted me to just come home. She wanted to just talk things out. She expressed concern for me and begged me to at least call her. She made no mention of the photographs or of the pincushion. Fed up with her bullshit, I turned off my phone and immediately tried to fall asleep. I slept for maybe fifteen minutes and was startled awake by a noise. My heart pounding, I looked around for what it was, and I saw it—the wall unit air conditioner had kicked on.
Still jarred from the air conditioner incident, I realized I was obviously too on edge to sleep, and I decided to take a look at the iPad. It took me a while to find anything important. Her internet search history was clean. The email account linked to the iPad was empty and didn't have anything important in it. I went through a few apps until I saw a shopping list app. I opened it up, and I saw a list that she had made:
Box of needles
Candles, assorted – black, white, red
Offerings (hair, nail clippings, blood, semen) from the one to be bound
Underneath the list, as if they were other items to pick up, were written the following words:
Abençoe essas agulhas
Nesta chama da paixão.
Duas almas uma.
I pasted the words into Google translate, which identified them as Portuguese, and I came up with the following translation, "Bless these needles in this flame of passion. Allow them to make two souls one." I looked through and found other spells, most of them seemingly innocent enough. I found instructions on how to make and bless the pincushion to be an extension of the caster's mind. As I read through the spells she had done and planned to do, I was simultaneously sickened, saddened, and relieved. Sickened because she felt that she had to do something this extreme for me. I mean, there's no way that you can look at the ritual she and her group did and not say that it's fucked up. Also, she collected my "offerings"; that's disgusting and violating. Saddened because I had loved her, and to me, it seems that love should be a strong enough bond without having to resort to dark magic. Relieved because at least it didn't seem like she intended on harming me.
No matter what her intentions are or were, there's no way that I could go back to her. I'd still rather she cheated on me than this. I feel so violated and am still terrified from the ceremony. But after reading her spells, I didn't feel quite so scared and was able to fall asleep. I slept most of the day today.
When I woke up, I turned my phone on, and I had over twenty new messages from my girlfriend (I guess I can call her my ex now). At first, they were pleas for me to come home or talk to her. Then, as if a switch flipped, she was irate, demanding that I call her. Some of her later texts were:
Pick up the fucking phone! Do you have any idea what I could do to you?! You are mine! Answer me!!
I don't know what you've seen, but I know you found the needles and the pictures. I don't know what else you know, but I'm sure you can guess what I'm capable of.
You're going to regret this.
I will find you, and you will beg to be with me again. I'll make sure of it!
I will fuck you up, and you will love it!
I will find you.
– I will find you; just try and leave where you are, asshole. BTW, I had already made extra needles. ;)
I opened the picture, and I was filled with dread. A rectangle, lined with salt with four different-colored bent needles in each corner. Inside the salt are exactly sixty-six drops of blood (mine or hers, I'm not sure) and hair in the center, which I'm sure is mine. I'm a dirty blonde, and she has jet black hair.
I don't normally believe in this kind of stuff, but my palms started sweating. I began to shake as the room grew hotter and hotter, the walls quickly closing in on me. I felt glued to my chair. I couldn't move. I tried to reason with myself that this was all psychosomatic, that the only reason that this was even happening was because I was beginning to believe it. It took a while, but I finally got myself calm and decided that this was all stupid. A part of my wanted to just walk out the door just to prove to myself that I could leave, but I knew I could leave anytime I wanted. Some bogus spell wasn't going to stop me from leaving.
After watching some television to clear my head, I decided to type this update up just to let you all know that I'm safe now. I'm about to read through the comments on my first post (I'm overwhelmed by the number of you who have expressed concern for me.) to see if any of you can give me a better idea of what is going on. Feel free to comment here and let me know if you have any other ideas.
But again, I'm safe. You don't need to worry. I've used cash everywhere. Not even I knew where I was going when I was driving. I'm not using my real name. She can't find me.
Shit, getting a text:
Hi, sweetie, you forgot to turn off the "Find my iPad" app.
A knock on the door.