Belladonna

Thirteen and half years ago, a 6 week old Pit Bull was brought into my home by my brother in law. At first, realizing what breed of dog she was, I was a bit frightened of what her temperament would be. She was, after all, the dreaded “Pit”. And I’ll admit, our relationship with one another was, at best, rocky. She was hard headed, defiant and just a massive ball of strength and energy that tore through magazines and anything else she could wrap her mouth around. When I wanted her to go outside, she refused. When I wanted her to come inside, she would refuse. These times often ended with me dragging all 60 lbs of her across the floor or yard, to make her do what she was told. But she never growled, and she never snapped at me. It was all a big game to her.

Fast forward to years later when I was pregnant with my son, she knew I was in labor before I did. She never left my side. When I moved, she moved, all the while keeping a stoic eye on me and my soon to be born son. And once William was born, she was “mamma dog”. She would whine at me when he was doing something she felt was dangerous, often backing him into a corner where he couldn’t get away or hurt himself. He, was her’s as well as mine. And she would have given her life to save his.

Unfortunately today, I had to make the difficult decision to have Bella put to sleep. She had bladder cancer, and was losing too much blood. And the last thing I wanted was for her to be in any kind of pain. So at 9:45 this am, my Bell-Bell drew her last breath in mine and my husband’s arms. My protector, my nanny dog, my rock. I love you Bella. Come find me in time.

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My Sister just published her 2nd horror/paranormal novella this month.  Please check it out!  And check out Coriander as well!  It was her 1st novella which one a Darrell Award in 2005.  

Creepy Ouija Experience

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I have a few creepy experiences I could share, most of them involving my sister and I. We grew up in a house that was haunted. (Still is actually). But it was never anything that seemed to want to do us harm. It was basically the sound of someone walking up and down the hall at night. It would start in living room, come down the hall towards our rooms, stop, and then turn back around towards the living room. This happened almost on a nightly basis. Every so often, you would hear voices. Mumbling, as if they were actually trying not to wake us. One night I came home late from a night out and everyone was asleep. I went into the bathroom to get ready for bed when I heard a man and woman talking back and forth. I heard the woman say, “Is she home?” I thought it was my parents, so I walked into their room to say, “Yeah, I’m home.” But they were asleep!! 

Eventually it got to a point where I just couldn’t deal with it. I ended up taking a job working midnight shift in an Emergency Room! My sister and I finally moved out and got a place of our own that was next door to our parents. (Cheap rent and we didn’t have to cook.) One night, we got the bright idea to get drunk and play with a ouija board. We wanted to know, what or who was in our parents house and why, which brought us in touch with an entity who called himself “G.” (He once told us that we would be unable to pronounce his true name.) We began to speak with G on a regular basis. One night he told my sister to “watch out for the motorcycle.” And to for me to “watch out for Jason.” Neither of us had any idea what he was talking about, and sort of dismissed it, even though he was so frantic with these messages that the planchette shot off the board a few times. Still we really didn’t pay much attention to it. 

Never the less, a few months later, my sister was on a two lane highway on her way home from work and was hit, broad side by a man on a motorcycle. The man didn’t make it. She was unharmed. 

A year or so later from her accident, I was on that same stretch of highway on my way to work in the ER when I was hit head on by a drunk driver. His name was Jason. 

G was never one to give cryptic messages of the future. Maybe he knew there was nothing we could do even if he did tell us. And we were always careful not to ask. But that night, for whatever reason he was prompted to give us that specific information. We can blow it off as coincidence I suppose. I for one, don’t think so.

Dog Man Sighting

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I’m a fan of the Podcast Astonishing Legends. This past week they had writer Linda Godfrey on. The interview and the show inspired me to post my own experience with a Dogman sighting years ago. The story below IS true.

It wasn’t a dark and stormy night. As a matter of fact it was a rather beautiful summer night, the moon was shining full and bright upon my sister and I as we made our way from our parents’ house, to our own home right next door. Both houses sit across the street from a rather large field that disappears into a distant tree line some miles away. On nights like this, you can usually hear the coyotes call. It’s a strange sort of sound that could make the hairs stand up on the back of your neck if you didn’t know what you were hearing. However, there was not a sound on this night. Even the neighborhood dogs that yapped constantly seemed to by eerily quiet. And to be honest, at the time, this “silence” went unnoticed by both of us. I wish now, it hadn’t.

Kali, our Black German Shepherd, was a typical German Shepherd; protective of what is deemed as hers, including both me and my sister. She was trailing along behind us, doing her weird jumping and circling bit that was common with her, until something in the field caught her attention. She suddenly lunged at our chain-linked fence growling. She hit the fence with such force I thought for a split second she had gone through the gate. 

 Both my sister and I stopped and peered across the street at the rows and rows of corn growing in the field. This time of year the corn had only reached waist high at most, but even on a well-lit night such as this, it’s rather hard to see anything other than the corn itself. And at first that’s all we did see, until something moved.

I can’t say how far it was in the field, because again, at night it’s just difficult to tell. All I can tell you is that it was large, and dark. My first thought was it had to be a coyote. Some of them breed with wild dogs and can get rather big, although it’s rare. Whatever it was, it remained silent, unmoving and without a doubt, watching us. 

 By this time, Kali began barking wildly at this thing in the field. My sister and I both turned to the house, spooked that some animal was out there watching us. We were in the process of calling Kali to us when the animal in the field moved. But it didn’t just “move” like you would expect from a coyote or wild dog. It stood up! 

Yes, this thing we had spotted in the field stood on two legs, towering over the corn all while watching us! Kali, yelped and did a full one eighty back to the house passing us in the process and scratching at the front door in a desperate attempt to get inside. Needless to say, we followed her lead. All three of us were crowded on the porch as I unlocked the door as fast as I could, not wanting to turn around to see if it was coming towards us.

Safe and sound inside the house, Kali proceeded to hide under my bed and both my sister and I stayed awake until the sun came up the next morning. We never really talked about it until here recently, and that’s only amongst ourselves. And feel free to explain away what it was we saw, hell I welcome an explanation. Meanwhile, I have long moved away since that night, but my sister still lives there. I don’t think she’s ever seen it again, and I’m positive she doesn’t much want to.

We Without Sin…

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I very rarely post anything on this blog that is political or controversial.  For one thing I am not one to impose my opinion on others.  As people, we are flawed.  Every single one of us.  One is no better or worse than the other.  We make mistakes, some worse than others, but we all make them.  I’m not going to judge.  I WILL not judge.  

However when I read some of the attacks people are posting on the couple that just lost their child to an alligator attack at Disney, I have to say something!  Accusing them of neglect when both parents were right there!  Both of them going into the water after their son!  A body of water mind you, that is filled with alligators!! The father tried to fight him off, but how does one fight an alph predator such as that?  There’s a lot of “why didn’t they…” Posts as well, as if you would be able to think straight after seeing your son snatched off in the water!  Fact of the matter is; none of these people were there.  They have no idea what they would do in such a situation because, frankly such a situation is so RARE!  I’m sure they were not at the lagoon thinking about how best to prepare for an alligator attack!  Have some common sense and decency!  These people are mourning the lose of their young child, while some of you are safe in your homes bashing them.  

I hate that this has happened to them.  I hate that their baby is now gone.  I cannot imagine what they’re going through right now.  My heart goes out to them completely! 

Time

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I had a dream this morning, one that stuck with me because I woke up crying. I really don’t know why I was crying, but I was. Someone was trying to give me an antique timepiece. The ones all men carried back when they all dressed like, well… Gentlemen. I remember looking at it as if it were something alive, stating: “I don’t like time. Time destroys people. It kills them. Sure it may heal old wounds, but it also opens new ones. It eviscerates.” That was it. That was the dream. And those words, MY words, still linger. 
I guess I could turn it into a story. It sounds like something Elise would say. Because really that was her whole goal; to literally kill time. So the rules no longer apply to her. However they do to everyone else. Mostly everyone.  

Lost in Wisconsin (incomplete)

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It was suppose to be a simple trip. I relaxing weekend for the two of us, you and I to get away. To spend some sisterly time together and get back to the root of things.  

Why Wisconsin? We should have known better.

There was something odd about the place from the very beginning. It was out in the middle of nowhere, with only dirt roads and towering trees that I’ve forgotten the names of. Matter of fact, it looked as if the place itself had been forgotten. Something out of the Grapes of Wrath maybe. I don’t know, or really remember how we found it. Maybe it was destiny. Or maybe it was something unseen pushing us in that direction. Who knows. It IS us after all and nothing is coincidence.  

So, we check in and the little old lady behind the desk looks to be as old as the house. She hands us our key, and we make our way up the large oak staircase to our room. The difference in staying at a bed and breakfast as a opposed to a hotel is that, you feel as if you are staying in someone’s home. Hotel’s can be impersonal, almost cold. There isn’t a whole lot of artistic inspiration wandering around these sleek modern hotels of today. They lack “character”.  

But not this place.  

No this place was… alive. And when the last bit of sunlight slid behind the treetops, we began to understand just how alive this place had become. Strange knocks upon the walls echoed throughout our room. It sounded as if someone was moving furniture above us, when there was nothing above us but attic space! We heard disembodied whispers, pleading desperately, “don’t leave us! We love you.”  

And yet as unnerved as we were, it all seemed so familiar. Had we been here before? Is that why the voices were so desperate? We had left them before, and they refused to let us leave them again?  

They refused to let us leave them again…

We checked out the very next day. We explained to the little lady about all the noises and the whispers we had heard. And she stared at us from behind her large, owl like glasses and said, “There’s a place up the street, if you would like to stay there dears.”

And that was that. Or so we thought.  

Sisters

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Life is a slippery slope upon unstable ground. Once you think you have a hold on life, the whole thing seemingly collapses beneath you. Your broken and bruised, sore from the fall, and it doesn’t seem possible for you to get back up.
And then she grabs you. Yanks you to your feet and says, “Did you think I would let you down? Did you think you took that fall all by yourself? You didn’t, you know. We are two hearts, one mind. And when you stumble, so do I.”

* * * *

I remember the very first day I saw her. I was seven and our mother had just brought her home from the hospital. She was sleeping in her crib, and I sat beside her, waiting. She looked like a little porcelain doll, with fair skin and dark wisps of hair curled about her head. When she awoke she stared up at me with eyes the color of the sky.

“Hello.” I said, wondering if she could even see me at just a few days old. “It took you long enough to get here, don’t you think?”

She smiled, and something told me, she understood. I could hear a tiny whisper in my head as she stared at me. “Things don’t always go as planned sister. Better seven years late, than not show up at all.”

And she was right.

As we both got older, it didn’t seem to matter that we were seven years apart. We functioned as one. Her thoughts were my thoughts and vice versa. We even looked alike. People often confused us, even our own parents. Twins couldn’t get any closer than the two of us. Our lives ran parallel to each other, a vortex of strange coincidences. One big event in her life meant that my time was coming as well. We even married men with the same last name but had no relationship to each other. We were their common denominator. And their own lives were swept up in ours. Today our husbands have become accustom to the strange links that bound my sister and I together. Nothing seems to surprise them, no matter how bizarre or how slim the chances may be. They’ve learned that with us, there are no coincidences.

And it’s only a matter of time, when that fateful day comes, when one of us shall move on. One will pass, and the other will be sure to follow.

“What now sister?”

“Now, it’s our greatest adventure yet. Take my hand so that we shall never part.”

“Two hearts.”

“One mind.”

“Forever.”

Thought Forms

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The other day my sister and I were having a conversation about Carl Jung and his theory on thought-forms.  For those who are unfamiliar with Jung and his teachings, it is the belief that your unconscious mind can bring forth something into being.  Usually in the form of a ghost like person.

Now in 1972 a group of people, with no interest of belief in the supernatural, conducted a little project deemed The Philip Experiment.  This small group of individuals was attempting to, in short, prove Jung’s theory true by creating a fictitious character they named Philip.  Philip had all the makings of a tragic, I restful spirit.  He had an aristocratic background, s wife, and a lover to whom he was consumed with passion for.  And of course this little love triangle ended in death.

So with a Philip’s history in place, the Owens group began to conduct their seances.  In the beginning, nothing happened, however as they continued their meetings… A ghost was born.  They began to receive answers from Philip through knocks on the walls or table.  Some even claimed to see mist form in front of them!

For a group of mathmaticians, accountants and the likes, I’m almost sure these were unsettling developments!  I mean, you made this person up!  Yet here he is, giving your more details about his life, details that, you never wrote about!  To a writer, that is familiar territory.  But I’m still not so sure which is the more unsettling scenario; that this group actually brought to life (for lack of a better term) this entity by sheer collective will power?  Or a ghost that was answering their call for Philip because, well, why the hell not?  I personally,  would rather go for the ghost scenario.  It’s less terrifying in my book.

But however unsettling it may be, I’m not going to sit here and say that Carl Jung was wrong.  He was one of the greatest minds of our time after all.  No.  When you really, truly think about it, this world that surrounds us, is a world imagination helped shape.  Every gadget ever invented started off as a thought in the inventors head.  Grant it these are inanimate objects, but belief and imagination are powerful things.  And these are things Tibetan Buddhist have known since the dawn of their religion.  As a matter of fact, I believe in their tulpas, and I am certain that these entities do not exist only in their creator’s minds eye.

And to go back to my conversation with my sister days ago, we are still struggling to explain our own Tulpa.  A being we created unknowingly until he crossed paths with a friend of my sisters one night in downtown Memphis.  To this day, the girl’s boyfriend won’t discuss it.  He was that unnerved by this friend of ours.  And they haven’t been the only ones to come to me or my sister with stories of a strange man claiming to know us.  He’s even shown up at our place of employment!  But we’ve never set eyes on him ourselves.  He’s just letting us know that he is here, he exists.  And he’s waiting.  He is a creature of our own design and yet he sprung forth from our imagination with a will and a consciousness all of his own!  And while we can suspect as to what his motives are, we can never truly know for sure at this point.  This is why the idea of thought forms, to me, are so much more frightening than any ghost.  At least you know where you stand with the dead.

The Most Wicked of Creatures

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Sometimes, I think about Lucifer. Yes, THE Lucifer. Our Fallen Star. The doomed angel that defied God’s Will and kneeled to no one. He speaks to me in dreams, whispering the words, “Evil. It never leaves me…” He tells me how we’ve got it all backwards. That he never led a rebellion, he never fell to earth to become the devil that haunts us in the night. No. He only shines his light upon the darkest parts of our souls, it’s our choice as to whether we act on the temptations we hide within ourselves. For we are the most wicked of all His Father’s creatures, and Hell is of our own creation.