Parables of the Black/u/SkelletonJackie

The Paranormal | March 7, 2023

Parables of the Black/u/SkelletonJackie

PARABLES OF THE BLACK

PREFACE

There are, or perhaps are not, dark things around us. If it is the conjuring's of the world or of our minds, perhaps we will never find out until its our time to go. These are mine.

For a long time my mother told me of my family history, both of her and my biological fathers. For a long time I did not want to believe and often tried to refuse but eventually when I reached now and being 25 I cant deny either that I am mad OR I am something else.

My family history runs dark on my biological fathers side, wo was Arabian. His mother was the towns witch who supposedly put Hex’s and performed other acts for money . I've only met her once and that was when my biological father was still with us. I remember having awfully nightmares as a child, once that would haunt me for a long time. She got some hot water and wax, did a ritual and poured it next to my head and the wax took shape of a snake- exactly what haunted my dreams and then never had I had a nightmare of that specific origin. My mother told me that on her side her grandfather was a kind man , good hearted and hardworking and sometimes she would feel like he could heal her. I always attributed it to a placebo effect. She said when she would reach the age of 14 he would teach her how, sadly he passed when she was 12. My mother hersle fclaims to be able to see and feel things and an acute 6th feel, My aunt and grandma had an acute gift of reading cards and telling futures which later in life encouraged me to do the same and then read tarots. I reached the age of 24 and when I begun reading cards – they have never been wrong. I felt like a few of them almost called out to me but I was distant to the idea.

I had a deck I still have to this day that I always keep next to me . It was a deck I resqued at a bar . I saw it misused and felt bad . I stole it from the people who did not give it proper respect as my grandmother always told me to treat playing cards with respect, while theya re play things they can also be vengeful. I started with it and it always warned me when something was incredibly Cards would fall out or pull a few that would show me bad things – I attibuted it to a phycological effect but the accuracy always scare me. At 24 I got my first tarot deck .One with light hearted art and would use it for answers or general questions – sometimes I would almost use it as a therapy effect and see how my mind would connect things. My family always warned me about tarots . They can instil and attract terrible things but I learned that even when you get a bad reading there is no reason to be afraid or anxious. You now simply know which way things are heading and there is an opportunity to better yourself – future is never set in stone and if you might understand better what is to come , then you can better yourself. The cards answer a question depending on your current outlook . Then there was one deck that called out to me, filled with horror art and monsters – some of them seeming eerily familiar- I keep the 3 separate and use them at different needs or current feelings.

Our house, here in my country, was on the lei line I found out and many strange things would happen and when we came here, my mother never felt comfortable and I begun understanding when I began seeing. The first time I saw was when I was downstairs and my mother was upstairs. I saw a girl, and Ill never forget it . Out of the corner of my eye first and then partly within my sight. A girl with a pony tail , jeans and a green shirt. I only saw the back of her and thought it was my mother first and called out to her . I saw her walks around the corner briefly making a turn into the kitchen. When I fully turned there was no one there and when I called out for mom, she was upstairs. Then I knew something was amuk – it was something passing by.

I swear to you that I write this after years of deliberation and thought. Over the years I've learned to channel this fear into art and have presented an image of them so you can see what I saw.

The Black , who watches by the stair case.

He , this one is the one that I now understand has haunted my mother since the start and why she felt so uncomfortable. The first time I saw him I was a pre-teen. I've always felt somewhat uncomfortable. Something was always watching me and instilling deep, deep fear. I could never be on my own in the house and would always see a tall, lanky shadow in the corner of my eye , standing over – peering, waiting, watching. Our house is structured with the front door mediately leading to the stairs. On the left an entrance to the living room, on the right dining room connecting to a thin long kitchen with a hole into the living room. Upstairs to the right was my room and the bathroom and to the left my parents room and small office. Whenever I was home alone I felt something peering at me from the door into the living room or the window behind me . Eventually I started fortifying myself in the small office which had the pc in it. The door and entrance to it was right on the side of the stairs. I didn’t want to mention it to my mother as her mood was fickle and sometimes she would listen and share and others be aggressive about it.

One day my parents when food shopping as they always did on a Friday night, and I did not want to join them. I fortified myself in the computer room office, with the door open and browsed the internet. Suddenly I felt cold , I felt uneasy . I felt a pair of two eyes . This wasn’t a new feeling – sometimes when the door stayed open, I felt a pair of eyes on me . Our of the corner of my eyes I would see, in a hazy manner, almost a head peering out from the stairs and watching me . When I feel like that I could close the door and turned the music on loud.

That day it was different. I felt the cold and the peering eyes . I turned my head and it horrified me. I saw him clearly but still in a hazy see thought manner. A head and wide eyes and a grin, ear to ear, his head tilted to a side. His hands were hold the base of the stairs. He was smiling and watching me and then I saw him lunge at me. The hands which griped the stair casing pushed It forward and it has never happened before - I have never seen him move . It moved closer and just as it got closer to the door I shut it with my back against it – hearing light scratching. I didn’t scream or make a noise . My family always told me that if I ever see the malicious shadows – I give them as little response as I can.

I kept that door shut for 2 and a half hours until my parents returned, sometimes hearing the creeping of the stairs and a light scratching . I recall turning on the music on and begun singing along , making sure I kept fear at bay hoping to make it look and feel as I wasn’t afraid. My grandmother also warned me that if I ever saw the shadows , I would sing , or prey . That day I sung but I never preyed. After that day I would never leave the door open to that room. I was often yelled at and told to keep the door open when my parents were in the house, but I took the heat – I did not think I could handle that again. I did not want to tell my mother as I thought something was wrong with me . To this day I feel it but I have learned to be different. Now that I know I developed my own fortification system of the mind. Over the years I've learned to locate where something is and fortify my emotions and never let curiosity get the better of me.

I realised that having no fear of them or even Him in particular did not make them go away and that’s when I knew this might not be madness. To this day I see him , on outline of him at the top of the stairs whenever I walk by. I would feel a leer and a stare and when I was younger and still living with my parents, I felt a presence by the door whenever I would sleep and never slept with the lights of , but it would never come in or at least never go past the corner of the room which lead from the door. Sometimes I would feel it crawling from the stairs as I go into my room and would quickly shut the door. Sometimes I would see a glimmer of a pair of eyes.

Years later I told my mom and begun speaking about it with her. I remember her face going pale and my horror . She described him the same way I did, becouse I asked her to go first. Manky, lean , big eyes and a smile. She said it was why she could never be in the house herself either. She also saw him peering through the stairs, sometimes crawling up. She on then other hand was different- she could never keep the door closed becouse if she did she felt him on the other side . She kept the door open and kept an eye on it. One time she said it had the audacity to go into her room which is why she kept holy water from a monastery in my room hidden. She was always afraid to talk about it until now. She said it haunted her often , even in dreams and once saw it at the foot of the bed and at the door to her room in the night. She said she never saw it move, only leer and watch.

He who watched from the stairs is still there and every time I return to my parents, I face him with confidence. My mother always hypothesise that someone prior to my step father , who lived in this house, may have died on the stairs but there is no proof or way we can find out.

The Black , a boy in wishes.

I began seeing him around the same age as I begun seeing the Black from the stairs. Now that I think back to it , I think he may have found comfort in me from the Black on the Stairs. He was harmless, but sometimes I would feel a sharp look – that look you get when someone watches you in jealousy.

With the door closed in the computer room, I would still feel chills but they were different. Not malicious but scared and sad and when I felt it being malicious I would do what my family told me back in my country of origin, another rule. Offer food and voice out the words “Pleasee, there are fruits and sweets downstairs to your souls desire, please help yourself and leave me be”. Whenever I would feel this lonely chill behind me I would say it . The tradition was a means to offer something and while not welcoming someone in as that is a bad idea – instead being a good host ands no one can hate a good host I was told.

One day I turned round before saying those words and I saw a faint outline of a boy shorter than me. His hair black and mid long, covering his face. He was looking down and I felt such despair and sadness from him. He was wearing a stripey shirt and did not speak and simply looked down. I did not react as I felt it was on a line of maliciousness. I turned back around and continued what I was doing and said those words but instead of offering food I would tell him he can play with any toy he wanted. Sometimes I would bring toys and leave them behind me . I never saw him anywhere but the PC room and I think now a days that he may have taken refuge with me from the Black on the Stairs . Maybe he wanted to play, maybe he was sad I was alive, and he was not.

When I spoke to my mother about him at too, she confirmed it was something she always saw also but never as clearly as me. I asked my mother if she ever saw anything else and she said he had always felt a child like presence . She said she only saw hazy outlines at times and never as clearly as me and would offer him food to leave her be . She was always more brash with these things and sometimes I wonder if she feels haunted because of it. I stopped seeing him when I became a teenager. I did not feel him anymore but was always kind to him . I would tell him I was scared and I was sorry and he was welcome to play with anything of mine. I sometimes wonder if he managed to move on- he was sad , so much sadness that I sometimes cried for him .

After this , a few years passed since I've seen anything that strongly. I would still feel maliciousness around me but I never looked at it and never gave it a second thought and tried to convince myself I was just mad and none of this was real. Things outside and inside, blacks and shows.

The Black, a lady who lead me to the edge.

On the day of Hallows eve I had a doctor appointment, I travelled to it by foot and then by the time it was needed to leave it was dark. I was filled with adrenaline then, thinking I was untouchable. At that point I embraced that I was either crazy or different and thought it made me special until that day on Hallows Eve. The road to the doctor needed you to walk on a pathway, on one side there where racing cars on a big road and on the other an old church and graveyard. I avoided that area like a plague because I always felt something was wrong. The couple of times I crossed thought it the abandoned graves gave me a bad feeling and I often felt followed and eventually when I felt seen I stopped walking through it. I was too bold and too proud of myself back then.

The pathway was around the church , separated by a short wall. As I was walking by something caught my eye in the far of the graveyard by the tree. I felt almost tranced, I knew not to look. I knew I shouldn’t turn my head but curiosity got the better of me thinking I could persevier and show it “ who’s the boss”. I turned my head and stopped walking and saw Her. She was leering behind a tree and watching me from afar . Her taloned skelleter and sharp hands on the trunk of a tree, peering behind as half of her body was hidden .I saw long hair which covered most of her face and the outlines of eyes that shimmered. As soon as I locked eyes, I saw it move. I saw small movements coming closer moving from around the grave that she stood by and the tree that hid half her body . Loing messy hair and the outline of a robed starved , thin, tall woman. Fear overtook me and the second I felt the rush of it , she begun moving it and I begun backing away – my mind forgetting the road behind me . As I took a couple of steps , nearing myself into the road and she moved closer I thought to myself – can they finally hurt me?

Alas, the clock striked 8 and the church bell rung and I woke up from my trance and looked up at the church that was to the side of the graveyard. The bells were ringing and as I looked back, she was gone , I think I caught gimpses of her skittering away. I took a few breaths and for the first time thanked God for this one. I can home that day , taking the long way around the church and graveyards and vowed that now that I held knowledge . That that curiosity would not get the better of me . For years my mother wanted to crisen me but I was always afraid that my gift would go away. These shadows around made me feel at home sometimes, less lonely and the fear would make me feel alive but that day I considered that I might need help.

The scary thing now is the horror tarot deck that called out to me at 24 – well , there was a creature card there that looked eerily similar , as if somone saw something like it. The face, the clothes and those cursed bony claws. I still think about her and I think what would have happened to me. That day taught me that they cannot hurt me physically but through fear – they can lead me somewhere to the edge.

After that I was more acutely aware of the things around me . I sharpened my tuning skills and coping mechanisms whether it was psychosis or something abnormal. When I lived alone I felt things pass me by – trying to scare me but I learned to live with them and be a good host. In my first renting apartment when I lived on my own things passed by. I would sometimes see devices fliker and items which couldn’t possibly be in a place, be droped. One time in the night I saw a flip switch in my kitchen go on and of – on and off .I would simply turn my back to it and ignore the grawing feeling at my back. I was also often haunted in my nightmares. I became a lucid dreamer and over the years had many malicious things come to me ,killing me, trapping me but I learned to control it and recover quickly. I learned to channel it into art .

The Black, who eats dreams.

This goes back to when I still lived with my parents. I had many fearfull dreams like my mother who often told me she saw awful things in her dreams and vows she's even seen Death itself . She was often unwell and I was much the same. I sometimes think if this is really the case that maybe she took on a lot for me – things chipped at her soul more than mine.

I knew that the Black at the Stairs never entered my room any further then the dark corner by the door but on that dark night something else came out- something that I still think is with me although I've learned that he is me now . My mother was a good hard working woman but the pain her family instilled on her often came out on me. She would do things rashly and out of malice, and it often drove me to a deep depression and anxiety even as a child. I don’t know if He is a manifestation of those fears and hauntings but he was my first night terror and I still feel him at the corner of my dreams when I stay in lucidity for too long. I remember being awake and my night light flickering .I had this fear and growling at the tip of my stomach so I turned my face towards the wall but it got worse. I felt something in the room- something evil and something BIG like it filled the whole room. I felt the fear bubbling in my pit, I felt almost like tentacles enveloping me . I gathered all my strength and bravely . I felt that if I turned around something bad would happen to me, something would take me but I couldn’t just wait . After swallowing that fear I finally turned around in confidence and I saw flickers of it. I saw almost like a monster. I saw a brief outline of its tentacles and felt the sharpness of its teeth . It almost filled by toom and took my voice.

Eventually I screamed louder than anytime I ever did. It awoke my parents who ran and let me sleep. They told me it was a bad dream , but how could it be a dream if I wasn’t asleep. Maybe it was a night terror but alas . Since that day I felt it had almost attached itself in me. I saw him again in the deepest of my dreams when I was 21. I was in a lucid dream – a skill I sharpened over the years and found out that with enough awareness and confidence I could stay there and enjoy the world , crafting it as I pleased and if it got too much I knew death would wake me up – learning the confidence and lack of fear that comes with it but I always knew I couldn’t stay too long.

One day I stayed too long in Wonderland and I was suddenly in the house of my parents again I felt uneasy, and I felt the giant monster. I looked way to kill myself and escape the dream but the house begun emptying out . I would not ever reach the rooth to jump out of sleep. All the blades in the house were dull and eventually disappeared . I begun running down stair case that never ended . The more I ran , the more darker the dream got until it was all black and I was running with him behind me. I saw him clearly that night gnawing and running after me . I tried to scream, scream lounder than I ever could and eventually I found my voice just as it almost caught me or when it caught me. Since then murderous things came after me and I began hating sleep .I threw myself into works of fiction and making my lucid dreams those fictions, I never tried to craft the world again beyond one that wasn’t mine but murderous dreams still follow me. Things scaring me and killing me , chasing me and eventually I learned to face them with grace and recover fast. I couldn’t escape so I had to learn to persevere.

A few dreams I still go back to some dreams. Maybe he is me and eventually I begun thinking it was simply the manifestation of my trauma over the years but he still feels foreign , like it isn't quiet a part of me. I think eventually whatever gift my mother may have had, or what ever madness she had passed to me. The dream I would go back to a girl I once saw . She seemed so real and I've even sketched her out a few times. My age, in a frowly vblowse, trousers , black shoes and a pale face. She was blond and had curly hair, loose and beautiful . She was trying to speak to me, tell me something but her voice I could not hear. I always hoped and still hope that maybe one day I might meet her , maybe fate would bring us together. I saw Him again a few years after , same figure chasing me down and the dream eventually ending as it gets me , or just before and a scream waking me.

Other horrors and dreams I begun putting into art – its how I live with it , I do not fear anymore as much as I am cautios. At this age I almost consider them as residential friends . In a sick sense of things they almost make me feel not alone. Sometimes its comforting but sometimes I feel the maliciousness and when I do I establish confidence . I fortify myself and as long as I am the Master of the House – they will follow rules if they wish to be hosted well.

The Drema Eater made me realise this and when I loose control is when he tries to strike . I drse them and put them on my walls, its my way of saying I see you and I do not fear.

5 The Blacks, who seek a hosting

On many occasions, especially when my mind is at its weakest and most tiered, I would see other Blacks on a daily manner.

I used to avidly go to an arcade at night. I knew the owner and we would often run it at night and play ourselves. In the store and around the games I would see a Black , sometimes at the counter and sometimes by the older games, a black outline . I would sometimes see him behind me as I played games , an outline of the black watching me . Or byu the counter , or often looking about. It knew I knew because I would always look back and try and find him- he meant no harm and I only felt curiosity, so I let it be.

Often a variety of Blacks would be in the apartments I lived by . I noted once that I heard flickering switches and gnawing at my back as I slept. But there was one creeper I saw in my 3rd apartment. It was filled with a lot of pain and sorrow and I think that attracted them , or maybe it was just a manifested psychosis of my deep anxiety and sorrow but with how similar my art was I suspect that it was just the one same . But there was a few more. There was a peerer by the door that would often see and I would simply ignore and it eventually left.

There was a creeper who leered in the dark , Iwould see him at night. At first just the shadow of its face and then I saw it , full in body and scare the living spirits out of me , making me fall down onto the floor at which point I begun fortifying myself , standing my own.

Sometime I would see something on the balcony scratching by , never coming in and on those days I kept the door to the balcony shut until the morning.

A few times I've seen a few of them by my bed site, A glimer of something in the dark which was illuminated by thunder. A human looking thing. Its moth opened wide and a saw its mouth it caused me sleep paralysis .Then when I was asleep I heard whispers in the dead of night around me and in my half awake status I saw shadows , multiple shadows walking around and looking over me. What awoke me is a video I was listening and suddenly ehardf the words : “ I was so scared “ and “ help” and other please and moans . On both occasions I simply got up with confidence, turned the lights on and went back to sleep. In the morning though I checked thought the video as I recall the time and where the video was at when I awoke – funny I relistening to it and heard nothing of the sort I heard at night.

FINALITIES

Well, I still feel things around me. Maybe I am a beacon . My mother always told me that I am somone trapped between the dark and light and the Blacks were tempting me over. The Black lady made me realise that I cannot be too proud of myself or invite them too deeply – that falling too deep to them is bad and refused to be christened for now because being in between feels right. Whether its my mind playing trix iis up to the reader from years of trauma , pain , suffering and facing death square on or maybe something's out there . Alas I treat my in-between balance with respect- never delving too much into either and using it to any advantage. I never follow any ideologies other than my own – I think many people out there overexadurate or are simply mad and too wound up in it – feeling too special with the gifts they might have. I try to remain humble now , simply being a good host and using what in neutral .

I've never been a fan of people and spend time in solitude because I've found that by being acutely aware of the darks around me I begun seeing clearly the dark in others and people just make me feel even lonelier. The Blacks make me feel less alone sometimes – when I see them clearly I draw and try and better myself and take it as opportunities and warnings.

I don’t know if God is real or if any of this is real but I will remain true to my own ideologies and when its my time, maybe Ill find the answer but for now my friends in the dark will always let me know when my mind and soul are becoming weaker - always giving me the choice of falling into their arms or to keep going.

I will be the Master of my own Home and Mind. None are welcome whop seek to be cruel .

submitted by /u/SkelletonJackie
[link] [comments]PARABLES OF THE BLACK PREFACE There are, or perhaps are not, dark things around us. If it is the conjuring's of the world or of our minds, perhaps we will never find out until its our time to go. These are mine. For a long time my mother told me of my family history, both of her and my biological fathers. For a long time I did not want to believe and often tried to refuse but eventually when I reached now and being 25 I cant deny either that I am mad OR I am something else. My family history runs dark on my biological fathers side, wo was Arabian. His mother was the towns witch who supposedly put Hex’s and performed other acts for money . I've only met her once and that was when my biological father was still with us. I remember having awfully nightmares as a child, once that would haunt me for a long time. She got some hot water and wax, did a ritual and poured it next to my head and the wax took shape of a snake- exactly what haunted my dreams and then never had I had a nightmare of that specific origin. My mother told me that on her side her grandfather was a kind man , good hearted and hardworking and sometimes she would feel like he could heal her. I always attributed it to a placebo effect. She said when she would reach the age of 14 he would teach her how, sadly he passed when she was 12. My mother hersle fclaims to be able to see and feel things and an acute 6th feel, My aunt and grandma had an acute gift of reading cards and telling futures which later in life encouraged me to do the same and then read tarots. I reached the age of 24 and when I begun reading cards – they have never been wrong. I felt like a few of them almost called out to me but I was distant to the idea. I had a deck I still have to this day that I always keep next to me . It was a deck I resqued at a bar . I saw it misused and felt bad . I stole it from the people who did not give it proper respect as my grandmother always told me to treat playing cards with respect, while theya re play things they can also be vengeful. I started with it and it always warned me when something was incredibly Cards would fall out or pull a few that would show me bad things – I attibuted it to a phycological effect but the accuracy always scare me. At 24 I got my first tarot deck .One with light hearted art and would use it for answers or general questions – sometimes I would almost use it as a therapy effect and see how my mind would connect things. My family always warned me about tarots . They can instil and attract terrible things but I learned that even when you get a bad reading there is no reason to be afraid or anxious. You now simply know which way things are heading and there is an opportunity to better yourself – future is never set in stone and if you might understand better what is to come , then you can better yourself. The cards answer a question depending on your current outlook . Then there was one deck that called out to me, filled with horror art and monsters – some of them seeming eerily familiar- I keep the 3 separate and use them at different needs or current feelings. Our house, here in my country, was on the lei line I found out and many strange things would happen and when we came here, my mother never felt comfortable and I begun understanding when I began seeing. The first time I saw was when I was downstairs and my mother was upstairs. I saw a girl, and Ill never forget it . Out of the corner of my eye first and then partly within my sight. A girl with a pony tail , jeans and a green shirt. I only saw the back of her and thought it was my mother first and called out to her . I saw her walks around the corner briefly making a turn into the kitchen. When I fully turned there was no one there and when I called out for mom, she was upstairs. Then I knew something was amuk – it was something passing by. I swear to you that I write this after years of deliberation and thought. Over the years I've learned to channel this fear into art and have presented an image of them so you can see what I saw. The Black , who watches by the stair case. He , this one is the one that I now understand has haunted my mother since the start and why she felt so uncomfortable. The first time I saw him I was a pre-teen. I've always felt somewhat uncomfortable. Something was always watching me and instilling deep, deep fear. I could never be on my own in the house and would always see a tall, lanky shadow in the corner of my eye , standing over – peering, waiting, watching. Our house is structured with the front door mediately leading to the stairs. On the left an entrance to the living room, on the right dining room connecting to a thin long kitchen with a hole into the living room. Upstairs to the right was my room and the bathroom and to the left my parents room and small office. Whenever I was home alone I felt something peering at me from the door into the living room or the window behind me . Eventually I started fortifying myself in the small office which had the pc in it. The door and entrance to it was right on the side of the stairs. I didn’t want to mention it to my mother as her mood was fickle and sometimes she would listen and share and others be aggressive about it. One day my parents when food shopping as they always did on a Friday night, and I did not want to join them. I fortified myself in the computer room office, with the door open and browsed the internet. Suddenly I felt cold , I felt uneasy . I felt a pair of two eyes . This wasn’t a new feeling – sometimes when the door stayed open, I felt a pair of eyes on me . Our of the corner of my eyes I would see, in a hazy manner, almost a head peering out from the stairs and watching me . When I feel like that I could close the door and turned the music on loud. That day it was different. I felt the cold and the peering eyes . I turned my head and it horrified me. I saw him clearly but still in a hazy see thought manner. A head and wide eyes and a grin, ear to ear, his head tilted to a side. His hands were hold the base of the stairs. He was smiling and watching me and then I saw him lunge at me. The hands which griped the stair casing pushed It forward and it has never happened before - I have never seen him move . It moved closer and just as it got closer to the door I shut it with my back against it – hearing light scratching. I didn’t scream or make a noise . My family always told me that if I ever see the malicious shadows – I give them as little response as I can. I kept that door shut for 2 and a half hours until my parents returned, sometimes hearing the creeping of the stairs and a light scratching . I recall turning on the music on and begun singing along , making sure I kept fear at bay hoping to make it look and feel as I wasn’t afraid. My grandmother also warned me that if I ever saw the shadows , I would sing , or prey . That day I sung but I never preyed. After that day I would never leave the door open to that room. I was often yelled at and told to keep the door open when my parents were in the house, but I took the heat – I did not think I could handle that again. I did not want to tell my mother as I thought something was wrong with me . To this day I feel it but I have learned to be different. Now that I know I developed my own fortification system of the mind. Over the years I've learned to locate where something is and fortify my emotions and never let curiosity get the better of me. I realised that having no fear of them or even Him in particular did not make them go away and that’s when I knew this might not be madness. To this day I see him , on outline of him at the top of the stairs whenever I walk by. I would feel a leer and a stare and when I was younger and still living with my parents, I felt a presence by the door whenever I would sleep and never slept with the lights of , but it would never come in or at least never go past the corner of the room which lead from the door. Sometimes I would feel it crawling from the stairs as I go into my room and would quickly shut the door. Sometimes I would see a glimmer of a pair of eyes. Years later I told my mom and begun speaking about it with her. I remember her face going pale and my horror . She described him the same way I did, becouse I asked her to go first. Manky, lean , big eyes and a smile. She said it was why she could never be in the house herself either. She also saw him peering through the stairs, sometimes crawling up. She on then other hand was different- she could never keep the door closed becouse if she did she felt him on the other side . She kept the door open and kept an eye on it. One time she said it had the audacity to go into her room which is why she kept holy water from a monastery in my room hidden. She was always afraid to talk about it until now. She said it haunted her often , even in dreams and once saw it at the foot of the bed and at the door to her room in the night. She said she never saw it move, only leer and watch. He who watched from the stairs is still there and every time I return to my parents, I face him with confidence. My mother always hypothesise that someone prior to my step father , who lived in this house, may have died on the stairs but there is no proof or way we can find out. The Black , a boy in wishes. I began seeing him around the same age as I begun seeing the Black from the stairs. Now that I think back to it , I think he may have found comfort in me from the Black on the Stairs. He was harmless, but sometimes I would feel a sharp look – that look you get when someone watches you in jealousy. With the door closed in the computer room, I would still feel chills but they were different. Not malicious but scared and sad and when I felt it being malicious I would do what my family told me back in my country of origin, another rule. Offer food and voice out the words “Pleasee, there are fruits and sweets downstairs to your souls desire, please help yourself and leave me be”. Whenever I would feel this lonely chill behind me I would say it . The tradition was a means to offer something and while not welcoming someone in as that is a bad idea – instead being a good host ands no one can hate a good host I was told. One day I turned round before saying those words and I saw a faint outline of a boy shorter than me. His hair black and mid long, covering his face. He was looking down and I felt such despair and sadness from him. He was wearing a stripey shirt and did not speak and simply looked down. I did not react as I felt it was on a line of maliciousness. I turned back around and continued what I was doing and said those words but instead of offering food I would tell him he can play with any toy he wanted. Sometimes I would bring toys and leave them behind me . I never saw him anywhere but the PC room and I think now a days that he may have taken refuge with me from the Black on the Stairs . Maybe he wanted to play, maybe he was sad I was alive, and he was not. When I spoke to my mother about him at too, she confirmed it was something she always saw also but never as clearly as me. I asked my mother if she ever saw anything else and she said he had always felt a child like presence . She said she only saw hazy outlines at times and never as clearly as me and would offer him food to leave her be . She was always more brash with these things and sometimes I wonder if she feels haunted because of it. I stopped seeing him when I became a teenager. I did not feel him anymore but was always kind to him . I would tell him I was scared and I was sorry and he was welcome to play with anything of mine. I sometimes wonder if he managed to move on- he was sad , so much sadness that I sometimes cried for him . After this , a few years passed since I've seen anything that strongly. I would still feel maliciousness around me but I never looked at it and never gave it a second thought and tried to convince myself I was just mad and none of this was real. Things outside and inside, blacks and shows. The Black, a lady who lead me to the edge. On the day of Hallows eve I had a doctor appointment, I travelled to it by foot and then by the time it was needed to leave it was dark. I was filled with adrenaline then, thinking I was untouchable. At that point I embraced that I was either crazy or different and thought it made me special until that day on Hallows Eve. The road to the doctor needed you to walk on a pathway, on one side there where racing cars on a big road and on the other an old church and graveyard. I avoided that area like a plague because I always felt something was wrong. The couple of times I crossed thought it the abandoned graves gave me a bad feeling and I often felt followed and eventually when I felt seen I stopped walking through it. I was too bold and too proud of myself back then. The pathway was around the church , separated by a short wall. As I was walking by something caught my eye in the far of the graveyard by the tree. I felt almost tranced, I knew not to look. I knew I shouldn’t turn my head but curiosity got the better of me thinking I could persevier and show it “ who’s the boss”. I turned my head and stopped walking and saw Her. She was leering behind a tree and watching me from afar . Her taloned skelleter and sharp hands on the trunk of a tree, peering behind as half of her body was hidden .I saw long hair which covered most of her face and the outlines of eyes that shimmered. As soon as I locked eyes, I saw it move. I saw small movements coming closer moving from around the grave that she stood by and the tree that hid half her body . Loing messy hair and the outline of a robed starved , thin, tall woman. Fear overtook me and the second I felt the rush of it , she begun moving it and I begun backing away – my mind forgetting the road behind me . As I took a couple of steps , nearing myself into the road and she moved closer I thought to myself – can they finally hurt me? Alas, the clock striked 8 and the church bell rung and I woke up from my trance and looked up at the church that was to the side of the graveyard. The bells were ringing and as I looked back, she was gone , I think I caught gimpses of her skittering away. I took a few breaths and for the first time thanked God for this one. I can home that day , taking the long way around the church and graveyards and vowed that now that I held knowledge . That that curiosity would not get the better of me . For years my mother wanted to crisen me but I was always afraid that my gift would go away. These shadows around made me feel at home sometimes, less lonely and the fear would make me feel alive but that day I considered that I might need help. The scary thing now is the horror tarot deck that called out to me at 24 – well , there was a creature card there that looked eerily similar , as if somone saw something like it. The face, the clothes and those cursed bony claws. I still think about her and I think what would have happened to me. That day taught me that they cannot hurt me physically but through fear – they can lead me somewhere to the edge. After that I was more acutely aware of the things around me . I sharpened my tuning skills and coping mechanisms whether it was psychosis or something abnormal. When I lived alone I felt things pass me by – trying to scare me but I learned to live with them and be a good host. In my first renting apartment when I lived on my own things passed by. I would sometimes see devices fliker and items which couldn’t possibly be in a place, be droped. One time in the night I saw a flip switch in my kitchen go on and of – on and off .I would simply turn my back to it and ignore the grawing feeling at my back. I was also often haunted in my nightmares. I became a lucid dreamer and over the years had many malicious things come to me ,killing me, trapping me but I learned to control it and recover quickly. I learned to channel it into art . The Black, who eats dreams. This goes back to when I still lived with my parents. I had many fearfull dreams like my mother who often told me she saw awful things in her dreams and vows she's even seen Death itself . She was often unwell and I was much the same. I sometimes think if this is really the case that maybe she took on a lot for me – things chipped at her soul more than mine. I knew that the Black at the Stairs never entered my room any further then the dark corner by the door but on that dark night something else came out- something that I still think is with me although I've learned that he is me now . My mother was a good hard working woman but the pain her family instilled on her often came out on me. She would do things rashly and out of malice, and it often drove me to a deep depression and anxiety even as a child. I don’t know if He is a manifestation of those fears and hauntings but he was my first night terror and I still feel him at the corner of my dreams when I stay in lucidity for too long. I remember being awake and my night light flickering .I had this fear and growling at the tip of my stomach so I turned my face towards the wall but it got worse. I felt something in the room- something evil and something BIG like it filled the whole room. I felt the fear bubbling in my pit, I felt almost like tentacles enveloping me . I gathered all my strength and bravely . I felt that if I turned around something bad would happen to me, something would take me but I couldn’t just wait . After swallowing that fear I finally turned around in confidence and I saw flickers of it. I saw almost like a monster. I saw a brief outline of its tentacles and felt the sharpness of its teeth . It almost filled by toom and took my voice. Eventually I screamed louder than anytime I ever did. It awoke my parents who ran and let me sleep. They told me it was a bad dream , but how could it be a dream if I wasn’t asleep. Maybe it was a night terror but alas . Since that day I felt it had almost attached itself in me. I saw him again in the deepest of my dreams when I was 21. I was in a lucid dream – a skill I sharpened over the years and found out that with enough awareness and confidence I could stay there and enjoy the world , crafting it as I pleased and if it got too much I knew death would wake me up – learning the confidence and lack of fear that comes with it but I always knew I couldn’t stay too long. One day I stayed too long in Wonderland and I was suddenly in the house of my parents again I felt uneasy, and I felt the giant monster. I looked way to kill myself and escape the dream but the house begun emptying out . I would not ever reach the rooth to jump out of sleep. All the blades in the house were dull and eventually disappeared . I begun running down stair case that never ended . The more I ran , the more darker the dream got until it was all black and I was running with him behind me. I saw him clearly that night gnawing and running after me . I tried to scream, scream lounder than I ever could and eventually I found my voice just as it almost caught me or when it caught me. Since then murderous things came after me and I began hating sleep .I threw myself into works of fiction and making my lucid dreams those fictions, I never tried to craft the world again beyond one that wasn’t mine but murderous dreams still follow me. Things scaring me and killing me , chasing me and eventually I learned to face them with grace and recover fast. I couldn’t escape so I had to learn to persevere. A few dreams I still go back to some dreams. Maybe he is me and eventually I begun thinking it was simply the manifestation of my trauma over the years but he still feels foreign , like it isn't quiet a part of me. I think eventually whatever gift my mother may have had, or what ever madness she had passed to me. The dream I would go back to a girl I once saw . She seemed so real and I've even sketched her out a few times. My age, in a frowly vblowse, trousers , black shoes and a pale face. She was blond and had curly hair, loose and beautiful . She was trying to speak to me, tell me something but her voice I could not hear. I always hoped and still hope that maybe one day I might meet her , maybe fate would bring us together. I saw Him again a few years after , same figure chasing me down and the dream eventually ending as it gets me , or just before and a scream waking me. Other horrors and dreams I begun putting into art – its how I live with it , I do not fear anymore as much as I am cautios. At this age I almost consider them as residential friends . In a sick sense of things they almost make me feel not alone. Sometimes its comforting but sometimes I feel the maliciousness and when I do I establish confidence . I fortify myself and as long as I am the Master of the House – they will follow rules if they wish to be hosted well. The Drema Eater made me realise this and when I loose control is when he tries to strike . I drse them and put them on my walls, its my way of saying I see you and I do not fear. 5 The Blacks, who seek a hosting On many occasions, especially when my mind is at its weakest and most tiered, I would see other Blacks on a daily manner. I used to avidly go to an arcade at night. I knew the owner and we would often run it at night and play ourselves. In the store and around the games I would see a Black , sometimes at the counter and sometimes by the older games, a black outline . I would sometimes see him behind me as I played games , an outline of the black watching me . Or byu the counter , or often looking about. It knew I knew because I would always look back and try and find him- he meant no harm and I only felt curiosity, so I let it be. Often a variety of Blacks would be in the apartments I lived by . I noted once that I heard flickering switches and gnawing at my back as I slept. But there was one creeper I saw in my 3rd apartment. It was filled with a lot of pain and sorrow and I think that attracted them , or maybe it was just a manifested psychosis of my deep anxiety and sorrow but with how similar my art was I suspect that it was just the one same . But there was a few more. There was a peerer by the door that would often see and I would simply ignore and it eventually left. There was a creeper who leered in the dark , Iwould see him at night. At first just the shadow of its face and then I saw it , full in body and scare the living spirits out of me , making me fall down onto the floor at which point I begun fortifying myself , standing my own. Sometime I would see something on the balcony scratching by , never coming in and on those days I kept the door to the balcony shut until the morning. A few times I've seen a few of them by my bed site, A glimer of something in the dark which was illuminated by thunder. A human looking thing. Its moth opened wide and a saw its mouth it caused me sleep paralysis .Then when I was asleep I heard whispers in the dead of night around me and in my half awake status I saw shadows , multiple shadows walking around and looking over me. What awoke me is a video I was listening and suddenly ehardf the words : “ I was so scared “ and “ help” and other please and moans . On both occasions I simply got up with confidence, turned the lights on and went back to sleep. In the morning though I checked thought the video as I recall the time and where the video was at when I awoke – funny I relistening to it and heard nothing of the sort I heard at night. FINALITIES Well, I still feel things around me. Maybe I am a beacon . My mother always told me that I am somone trapped between the dark and light and the Blacks were tempting me over. The Black lady made me realise that I cannot be too proud of myself or invite them too deeply – that falling too deep to them is bad and refused to be christened for now because being in between feels right. Whether its my mind playing trix iis up to the reader from years of trauma , pain , suffering and facing death square on or maybe something's out there . Alas I treat my in-between balance with respect- never delving too much into either and using it to any advantage. I never follow any ideologies other than my own – I think many people out there overexadurate or are simply mad and too wound up in it – feeling too special with the gifts they might have. I try to remain humble now , simply being a good host and using what in neutral . I've never been a fan of people and spend time in solitude because I've found that by being acutely aware of the darks around me I begun seeing clearly the dark in others and people just make me feel even lonelier. The Blacks make me feel less alone sometimes – when I see them clearly I draw and try and better myself and take it as opportunities and warnings. I don’t know if God is real or if any of this is real but I will remain true to my own ideologies and when its my time, maybe Ill find the answer but for now my friends in the dark will always let me know when my mind and soul are becoming weaker - always giving me the choice of falling into their arms or to keep going. I will be the Master of my own Home and Mind. None are welcome whop seek to be cruel . submitted by /u/SkelletonJackie [link] [comments]

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