Fear No Evil

I am what one would call an emotional empath. For many years, when I was younger, I didnt know how to shield out the emotions from the people around me, nor the emotions left behind by people who had once been there. That lead to my having an emotional breakdown, a kind of sensory overload similar to having to much light in your eyes and going temporarily blind.

At any rate, one of the most devastating things that i experienced at that time was something that has led me to believe very strongly in Places that are truly evil. I was about 14 at the time, and had just moved from Los Angeles to a small twon in the mojave desert. The house we moved into was nondescript...........a house that was built decently but cheaply to be used as a rental.

It had 3 bedrooms and two baths, a living/dining combo and a smallish kitchen. My family consisted of myself, my sister, my two brothers, and mother and stepfather. My sister and I shared one bedroom and my brothers shared another room. Now, my brothers room was very small..........not much bigger than a large closet. My bedroom was
on the far side of the hallway past the boys room. From the first day we moved into that house, I feared that room.

It was an unremarkable room in every visible way, just very small. But I feared that room with all my heart. I would not even go to the bathroom at night, because i had to pass that room to get there, I went to bed before it got dark so I would already be past that room at dark. By the time this incident occured, we had already lived there some months.........and I had told my mother that I was afraid of the room, but of course she just laughed at me. One night, my stepfather had gone out of town on business, and had called my mother to ask her a few
things. While she was on the phone, she asked me to go check on the boys........they had been in bed for a little while and she wanted to know if they were sleeping yet. Now, I had never dared to say no to mother, or even argue with her before, but this time I did. Needless to say, she forced me into it. I remember going down the hall towards the room..........scared to death........and opening the door up.........but what I saw was NOT the boys bedroom.

It was completely black, a complete and total absence of light. I screamed and tried to back up away from the door..............but something grabbed me and pulled me into the room. As I turned around to try to get back out of the room..........I saw that there was no longer a door..........I screamed and screamed and I could feel something, some presence, something that had never been human, nearing me and I fainted. When I came to, I was laying on the floor in the hallway and my mother was kneeling next to me, very white-faced. I asked her what had happened and she said that she had come down the hallway behind me to make sure I did what she had asked and she saw me step thru the doorway and vanish. She could hear me screaming, but it seemed to be coming from very far away. She said that she reached thru the doorway and tried to see if she could feel me, and I kind of fell into her arms, unconcious. She pulled me out of the room and then looked up and the room was normal in every way............
and my brothers where still sleeping on the bunkbed not five feet from where I was laying.

Needless to say..........we moved soon after that, and she never made me go near that room again. But it was an experience I will never forget...........the feeling of vileness that issued from that house was the like of which I have never experienced since. After I had the breakdown, for many years I could not feel any emotions from anyone, not
even my own. It took me years to recover from that, and regain that sense.

By: wyllowwynd2002@netscape.net