One Tiny Mistake
As I wind down to the end of my tale of woe, please realize that in the telling of this story, I've left out a whole lotta stuff in the interests of brevity. Coming to this final point took several years, a lot of mistakes and much aggravation. Looking back from the outside, I know that many lessons were learned, but they were not a great lot of fun at the time. Yes, I'm stronger for it, but just how strong does one person need to be? Strong enough, as it turns out . . .
After all that time of battling back and fourth, I'd become somewhat blase about the whole thing. I had to, in order to preserve what passed for my sanity. Too happy, and the thing would cause something bad to happen. Too sad, and I would be immobilized with depression. One of my shields that kept me from going under completely was my rather warped sense of humor. Well, it was either laugh, or take a long vacation at the funny farm, and I don't look good in white.
After having done a banishing ritual recently with my closest friends (whose patience still astounds me), there was a lull in the 'activity', so I dared hope that the thing was gone for good. As I found out, it wasn't *quite* done with me yet. The final straw, so to speak, happened as I was putting dishes away one evening. In the back of the cupboard rested a pair of fine glasses, a recent gift to me for my birthday. While setting plates on the other end of said cupboard, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. Too late to grab it, one of the glasses toppled out, followed by a heavy glass jug from the shelf above. The glass, of course, was smashed. The jug, however, bounced twice and came to a rolling stop, completely unharmed.
Now, I have a temper. I do not lose it often, as I scares *me* when that happens. That evening, it happened. I literally saw red, I could see heat roll off my arms, and I swear my aura shot six-foot spikes out of it. I picked up the jug, not quite sure what I was going to do, when everything seemed to stop. I was looking at the jug. The completely unharmed jug. The jug that the thing could not break! Somehow, by force of will, I put the thing in the jug and sealed it in such a way that it would never get out. I don't know how I did it. I don't know how I knew it worked. It just did. I could feel the thing inside, it's panic a very real force as it tried to find a way out. I didn't give it a chance to find one. I took the jug outside, down the street, and off to the apartment complex a couple of blocks over. The jug went into the trash, and I never once looked back.
These days, I still have my problems, as does anyone. But I don't hear that cruel laughter, and I don't see or feel the thing's hollow shadow. Without that burden, anything is possible. Anything.
After all that time of battling back and fourth, I'd become somewhat blase about the whole thing. I had to, in order to preserve what passed for my sanity. Too happy, and the thing would cause something bad to happen. Too sad, and I would be immobilized with depression. One of my shields that kept me from going under completely was my rather warped sense of humor. Well, it was either laugh, or take a long vacation at the funny farm, and I don't look good in white.
After having done a banishing ritual recently with my closest friends (whose patience still astounds me), there was a lull in the 'activity', so I dared hope that the thing was gone for good. As I found out, it wasn't *quite* done with me yet. The final straw, so to speak, happened as I was putting dishes away one evening. In the back of the cupboard rested a pair of fine glasses, a recent gift to me for my birthday. While setting plates on the other end of said cupboard, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. Too late to grab it, one of the glasses toppled out, followed by a heavy glass jug from the shelf above. The glass, of course, was smashed. The jug, however, bounced twice and came to a rolling stop, completely unharmed.
Now, I have a temper. I do not lose it often, as I scares *me* when that happens. That evening, it happened. I literally saw red, I could see heat roll off my arms, and I swear my aura shot six-foot spikes out of it. I picked up the jug, not quite sure what I was going to do, when everything seemed to stop. I was looking at the jug. The completely unharmed jug. The jug that the thing could not break! Somehow, by force of will, I put the thing in the jug and sealed it in such a way that it would never get out. I don't know how I did it. I don't know how I knew it worked. It just did. I could feel the thing inside, it's panic a very real force as it tried to find a way out. I didn't give it a chance to find one. I took the jug outside, down the street, and off to the apartment complex a couple of blocks over. The jug went into the trash, and I never once looked back.
These days, I still have my problems, as does anyone. But I don't hear that cruel laughter, and I don't see or feel the thing's hollow shadow. Without that burden, anything is possible. Anything.