Picking up on the narrative from Part 3…
During our sister Judy’s visit with us, one particular entity seemed to take a liking to her – or at least found amusement in playing games with her. There is no window in the bathroom, and when the light goes out, it is very dark. Never had the light gone out on any of us during the five + years we’ve lived in the house, but it kept happening to Judy at rather inopportune times. Every time she was ‘seated’ in the bathroom, the light would go off. It reminded us of a prank our father used to play on us when he was living.
We continued to have strange EMF readings throughout the house. One of the creepiest things we found was that we were getting big readings at various times near the ceiling. These ‘ceiling readings’ moved around the house. We started referring to this as a ceiling dweller. One evening we had a strong reading in the office near the ceiling on the east side of the room, but later that night it was gone. Instead, it showed up in Janice’s room. One particular night it felt like it was following us. Stalking us. I don’t scare easily, but it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It was the first time that I felt that there was a negative or evil entity in the house. I had no idea how right I was.
At the previous investigation, the Native American Protector that Mariah channeled had recommended that my sister and I protect ourselves. We were told about various methods, and one that resonated with me is the power of crystals. We went to a bookstore (yes, an actual, physical, brick and mortar bookstore!) and picked up a couple books on the metaphysical qualities of crystals. We studied throughout the night and headed out the following morning to a shop in Angel’s Camp, CA, that has an amazing collection of rocks and crystals.
A couple nights after our trip to get the crystals, Janice and Judy went to a concert, giving me some much-needed quiet time. The crystals we’d purchased needed to be cleansed and charged, so that kept me busy while they were away. I washed them with distilled water and put them on a table in the backyard where they would be able to soak up the sunshine and moonlight over a 24 hour period. I got the sage out and spent a while smudging the crystals, keeping them in the sage smoke for several minutes. It may seem strange to do this, and I definitely thought it was nonsense when I was reading about it. But when I started the process, it felt right, like it was something important. When I finished, the sage was still smoking away, and I decided to do what I had been explicitly told not to do: I would smudge the house by myself. It did not go well.
It started as normal, although it was somewhat hard to juggle the supplies by myself. Mulder stayed right by my side, as usual, giving off a very protective and loving feeling. I had smudged both bedrooms and the office and was at the mirror in the hallway when Mulder growled quietly and backed away. It was such a subtle change in his demeanor that I didn’t recognize it for what it was: a warning.
Unseen hands clamped down on my shoulders, close to my throat. The hands pushed. It was like a very tall person was pushing down, trying to force me to my knees. I struggled to remain standing, pitting my will against whatever it was that had me in its grasp. The struggle lasted a five-second lifetime. As suddenly as the pressure had appeared on my shoulders, it disappeared. But I could tell the entity was not gone. There was a darkness, an oppressiveness to the air. I was shaking – not with fear, but with anger. How dare someone attack me in my home. I would not allow this to happen. But what could I do against something I couldn’t see or touch? My years of martial arts couldn’t help me. My guns were useless. I had only my own spirit, my rage, my determination.
I use a stern voice when I do smudging (the disciplining-mom voice), but my anger transformed it. I remembered the lessons that my sensei taught me years ago – not about fighting, but about how to use my energy as a force. I reached inside myself and corralled that power; I felt it filling my body. I pushed it into my words, commanding the entity to leave. I stormed around the house, yelling at it, banishing it from our house. I thought about the night that Janice and I had felt that the ceiling dweller was stalking us, and this time I became the stalker. I chased that thing until I couldn’t feel its presence anymore.
Up until this point, there was still a portion of me that was a skeptic, but the attack on me left no doubt whatsoever that we were in trouble. We were in a fight against a paranormal entity, and I had no idea what to do. The results of my angry smudging were temporary. The damn thing came back. I felt hopeless and helpless, feelings that are foreign to me. It was time to get outside help.