Long Ago, and Always Again

From: Kayleigh Wilcher-people call me Kritter (whitelightning1werewolf@yahoo.com)
Story type: Ghost
Location: my old house
Source: Form Submission

Hi.I'm 14,my religion is Celtic Pagan. I am a strong beleiver in the "paranormal" and unexplainable phenomena,but up to now, i haven't been.When i was 12,my life was exploring new areas,preferably at night alone,going on adventures,and searching for magick.one particular night,no special night,just a mysterious warm night, a light breeze,a full moon,and myst and fog that covered the earth like a dream-shroud... my mother and father were always fighting,my brothers plotting torment against me,everyone reminding me how worthless i was/am and how pathetic it was that i cared. eventully i grew numb,dead to the world,so to speak.i lost faith in everything and everyone. i grew to hate them all for what they'd done.

that night i was planning to either find a magick way out,or suicide.I got together certain books of magick influences,herbs,spells,etc.etc.i also brought lighters,matches clothes,sacred druidic type robes,a staff,a sacrificial dagger,and several other items.i slipped out of my window with my little burden,and silently ran to my one safehold-the forest,aka the ancient wood.there was a giant oak there,hundreds of years old,fabled to be an ancient druid's tree. though i didnt truly beleive, i knew what id been taught,and was ready to try.i ran for almost an hour, lost and getting thirsty and hungry,as id refused to eat that day.i stopped in a clearing,and looked to the sky,patches of the moon were visible,and the moonbeams fell in such a way that the clearing seemed to glow,as if visible earth-fae swirled about me,like a mothers loving embrace.thus assured,i set out my pack to perform the rites and rituals taught me by my father(my father was in a satanic cult,and my mother a wicca/indian priestess)and my mother. i swore that night i was to TRAVEL to the Otherworld or to leave in more Mundane ways.

At 11:45 in the midst of my preparations,it was as if someone flipped a switch and shut off the moon's blessed rays.all was pitch black, and as the hairs on my neck prickled,i felt a wave of terror and despair crash over me,enveloping me in a sea of horror. i saw such things described as could only befit a hellhound.As i screamed, i felt a stabbing pain in my arm. the white robe i wore was stained with my own blood,or seemed to be.i went for the dagger at my side and whispering a prayer,i cried out as it was ripped from me.the wave was getting stronger,as if an ancient evil unleashed its forcefll nurtured hate against me that night.i remember dropping my pack and running,running blindly through the woods,fallin through the streams and almost drounding in the creek that went under a bridged road.i felt them, breathing down my nck, and to this day they follow i am being hunted,and it started long ago andalways again, though i am older and wiser i hear the call for me in the nigh,though i love the night,the dark, and cherish a fright.poeple keep telling me-im more than a bit past dangerously morbid,and all i can do is it back and think-if only they knew...