This is the story of my younger teenage years. So full of wonder, thinking you are invincible... You think no matter what kind of trouble you get into, someone else can fix it for you; I was no exception. (If anything, I thought I was safer than others because my father is a witch with a fair amount of knowledge and energies. Little did I know... But I'll save my father for another story to come.)
Like all kids who think they know everything and want to do something simply because they are told it's taboo, I dabbled in things. (Magic, paranormal, "the arcane", whatever you choose to call it.) Of course, I started out small. (Reading, studying, tarot cards, or the occasional prayer or meditation. You know, fairly simple things.) And I like to think I had a knack for it. Plus, my father would teach things. Bits and pieces to tide me over until I got older.
Naturally, I got hungry for more. I started delving deeper, finding others that shared my thirst for knowledge. Eventually, a good friend of mine's sister got a Ouija board. I had heard of Ouija before, but my father forbid me to ever touch one until he felt confident enough that I would actually know what I was getting in to. Of course I HAD to see this! I thought my dad was hiding some "super cool secret" from me and he just didn't want to tell me.
So I went to my friend's house and we went into his sister's room. (His sister, I might add, was also of similar spiritual following; she had a bit of knowledge herself.) We turned off all the lights and lit some candles, so it would seem more eery... We started out easy, talking to spirits and nothing too noteworthy happened. So we would meet up like this every weekend for a month or so after this. After that point is when it started getting weird. At first the entities would just make strange requests: asking us to repeat things it would spell out, we knew enough not to do that) asking us personal questions, but asking us to move the board to my house being the strangest. Being the clueless kids we were, we oblidged.
There was always this one entity who called himself "KNAYRZH" who would frequent the board most. He was the one who asked us to bring the board to my house, and would refuse to talk to us until we did. So when we brought the board to my house, absolutely nothing happened. Nothing would answer when we would call to the board. We would try again throughout that day to contact "Knayrzh", but it wasn't until later that night that we had any luck. We asked if it was him, and the oracle quickly moved to "yes." And then he asked us to say something that he spelled out. To this day, none of us know why, but we all said aloud the words he told us. It was almost like we weren't saying saying them, but were. Afterwards, the whole feel of the garage felt off, so we told him goodbye and wiped the board.
We put the board away and never used it again. Days later, things in the house started going awry. (This is where my first story comes into play. Http://www.yourghoststories.com/real-ghost-story.php?story=604) I called my friend, asking if anything similar happened, he said no and thought that I was making it up. It seemed that I was the only one who was noticing these things until my dad came over to spend a few days. And even he would refuse to enter the garage. Eventually, he pulled me aside asked for the story. I told him, and he dealt with it... To an extent... He managed to keep this spirit/demon/whatever in the garage, and not pestering me so much.
But ever since we moved from that house, this spook has become increasingly hostile. He never makes physical contact with me, but he may have something to do with my insomnia diagnosis. Things like gruesome gory nightmares and threats in my sleep, wispering less than savoury things to me when nobody is around, and screaming and making sounds from other rooms. Even when other people are around. Only occasionally will he reveal himself to others, but they see and hear the same things I do when it happens.
I already know that I done goofed, and I feel beyond help, because everything I've tried never works: blessings, prayers, rituals, pleas of help, even the priestess of the local cult refuses to so much as talk to me, let alone bless the house.
This is my story. I apologize for the length, but now you all know the story. I'm asking for help, although I know many of you may not be equipped to do so. Words of comfort and scolding are welcome as well.
Thank you for hearing out my story,
I don't know. Tough love? "You brought it here. So, you make it leave"?
I'm not condoning the action (or inaction). Just making an observation.