The Book Had To Be Destroyed
Considering the curse, it was the only way. So I took a crucifix to the fire and poured water over the crucifix to expel whatever evil witch was coming up from the flames. I had awakened the devil or a witch or some dark evil source.
It happened in my old house at Eagles Way. The garage door was up about three feet, so I thought somebody was in the house. I was alone in the cold night. The ambulance, with some demon phantom driving it, raced down the lawn at the side of my house. I ran for the shovel by the tree in front of the house and went back inside. I looked over and saw the ambulance turn into a neighbor's house, and then it was gone.
There was silence. I went back into the house and could see where Mom had made her bed. The covers were still fluffy, with the grey and vanilla quilt rolled up and folded diagonally to make a sailor's hat. You know ... one of those sailor's hats we all made in school out of paper that the teacher had taught us. I knew I had to get some music on. I quickly tried to turn to classical, the only station that came to mind, but I got static and only static. Then I looked outside, and everything was going blurry.
That house was evil. She came back in the form of a, a, a ... I can't recall right now.
I just knew that things were real out there, and you don't want to conjure up dark forces. Pouring water over the cross melted that cloth and the book on it until it was no more. There was not even any indication of charred remains on the bed cover where I ran in and put it.
I checked the house after I closed the garage door, but there didn't seem to be anyone in it but me at the time. I was so scared. I felt an indescribable fear. Something I knew no one would understand if I told them. It was a fear I wasn't certain I understood.
Sunday School
James saw the church. Ran over to it, and as he was doing so, slipped in a gutter. Then he saw the abandoned church, but it was blurry. To his left was a horse carriage, but no one was driving it. The horse ran past James at first and then came back. The poor, dirty bastard tried to get up, but his ankle was badly hurt. He limped around trying to secure a better position. The horse changed into a demonic camel and was now trying to butt him with his hind hoof ... unsuccessfully. However, when it saw an opportunity, the camel sat on James's face and smothered him with a nasty fart. Then the camel got up, changed back into the horse, and it reared up on its hind legs before racing off again with the empty horse carriage. Left on the hot, muddy autumn slop was his dead body. All that was left or heard was the faint wind around the condemned church that had been boarded up not far from were he lay.
Demons All Around
3:13 in the afternoon, Madrid time. Samatha Gillard is my name. I'm an 18-year-old Asian exchange student from Thailand, now living in Roswell. I remember how fond I was of American food, especially that greasy plate of yuck they served up back in the states - but there was none of that now. The food was given to me with a rose on the tray and next to that a small card denoting a warm thank you. I then heard a shout from the kitchen. "Oh no! Medic, medic, we need a medic in here!" Something, an Elvis fan that I was, didn't need to be hearing. I got up and left my meal. It reminded me of the time I dripped blood into the icy bowl of shrimp and then poured cocktail sauce over it because I was scared someone was going to notice. This at my niece's house back home in Roswell. "Fucking bloody nose, I hate it", I used to say. The party was for my Asian relatives and, by the time the shrimp was served, they loved it and ate up every last shrimp, even the bowl of shrimp mixed with blood and cocktail sauce over ice. When asked about this, I just said I wanted to create something new and those that heard this laughed. I went back to my room, 219 at a 5-star resort, I got as part of my school studies scholarship program. I fell asleep and dreamt of having hot coco in a cup on a Sunday night in Paris. When I awoke it was room service. "Ma'am, the bloody cow's head you ordered, specially cooked, just how you like it Miss Gillard."
She was still dreaming, but didn't know it.
The eye from the cow shifted towards me and then the mouth opened, "you wouldn't eat me would you, Miss Gillard? I'm a catholic vegan".
I knew I always got frustrated because the pictures on the menu weren't as shown in the picture, but this was an outrage. I closed the door and could still hear the cow going "moo, moo, moo".
Then the paintings of Velázquez I saw the week before flashed before my eyes. Protestors were gluing their hands to them and saying, is this more important to you then ...
I was not thinking of that now, but that my life had ended and everyone in it. I was living in a matrix now at 55. Everything and everyone is unrecognizable to me. I walked along the walk that I had walked many times before and felt the same detachment from the rest of the world, the same disconnection. There was nothing in my life now.
She walked over to the boarded-up church, unboarded a window, went inside and prayed. There was a quiet whisper over her shoulder, she turned and there was no one. Then AMSR kicked in when boards at the far end of the inside of the church fell over. The dust shot up. Sam was scared. She walked out of the back of the church where there was an opening of sunlight. Trees and leaves rustled and she knelt down to pet a little doggie wagging its tail. "I'm going to call you Fluffy, because you remind me of a fluffy white cloud," she said. The two walked off into the distance behind the church.
