Snapshots of Butterflies

I feel blessed to have found a place to talk about the things I normally cannot. The friends I have hear my stories and say, "every time, Shawn; it's always something new with you..." They can say that, for they cannot venture into my mind and see what I believe and feel.

At any rate, I live in Dixon, IL. The house I moved into a few years ago is pretty nice, for a smaller sized home. A few things needed fixing, but nothing too major. The garage is attached, and the space for a car is adequate. Where that space stops a wall of plywood goes up ten or twenty feet and stops, giving way to a large loft above the inside of the house. I've put some boxes and stuff up there, the furnace is also in this space. It is all open and hollow, with the exception of the two by fours criss crossing above the area; the framework if you will.

Why it was designed this way is beyond me, but at first it was cool and useful. The first year here was normal, nothing out of the ordinary. In the second year, 2007, things that I had no clue were going on started to become known.

The first time I noticed anything was one night during the summer of that year. It was the middle of the week, I had to work the next day, but I decided to get on the computer for a tick. Where I sit at the computer in relation to the space above is the farthest point back in this open area. Listening to music, talking to people, whatever; but something I must have said caused a stir. I started to hear footsteps directly above me. Lighter ones, but noticeable nevertheless. The instant I thought to myself that it is not footsteps there is a loud THUD, as if someone stomped one time in the spot where they were walking. I turned the music off, told everyone to hold on, and just sat for a moment. I stared straight up at the ceiling, anticipating the next sound. Another THUD, even louder and it made me jump out of my chair to my feet. My curiosity at the time was very much alive, I say at the time because nowadays I do not wish to know of what is standing around or next to me.

Forcing me outside, my mind seemingly carried my body to the side door of the garage. I opened and walked through the door, into the darkness. The air inside was even more humid than the air outside. As soon as I flicked the light switch on, pop, blown bulb; what a surprise. This should have been the inkling to just go back inside, but no; I have to figure this out. I went back inside and grabbed a flashlight, electing not to use my camera for fear that I will capture something I wish not to.

Upon re-entering the blackness of the garage, the humid nature of the atmosphere inside had given way to a much more cooler and clear sensation. Not exactly cold, simply less thick and desolate. Whatever was up there I prayed in my mind not to fear me or scare me, for I have a very weak heart. Going up the wall in the middle of the plywood are a patch of stairs, more like a wooden ladder. I climbed up and when I made it to the top I stood for a moment, my light pointed dead to rights at the very back of the space. Nothing was there, and I should have left it at that (again).

An extremely strong odor arises, I cannot name it exactly but I would compare it to maybe a dead animal that has been sitting in the sun for hours. As strange as that sounds it's just a comparison; I do not go around sniffing dead animals.

It seemed to get more pungent the further I walked, and with the furnace at the front of this loft I would have smelt it right away and not after I passed it if that were the case. A few more steps forward, nothing else can obscure my view of what is in front of me at this point. I remember that I took another step forward, then it gets a little unclear. Anyone who has ever been choked out or passed out knows that you feel as though you in a sense separate from reality and come out of it feeling like nothing happened.

After I took that step I blacked out, for images of things I do not wish to speak of began to fly past my vision in a frantic sequence. So unnerving in fact that ever since then I have had many seriously terrible dreams dealing with some of those same things. At a certain point I began to feel as though nothing was going to bring me out of this, and like the snap of a finger it stopped. I came completely out of it standing on my feet, my flashlight laying on the boards by my right foot. It was pointing towards the same corner where I heard the sounds, above where I was sitting inside the house. The shock of what had just conspired was certainly unreal. Surely all this was in my mind, but regardless I picked up the light and retired to my bed.

Such physical sensations have not been felt since then, but as fore mentioned I have these horrible dreams from time to time. In my opinion, I think the spirit had passed through my body, and the shock of how evil it may have been sent my soul into a tailspin of sorts. Little creaks and scrapes do not scare me; this an old house. Only when the sound is like what I heard that night is when I become intensely nervous of my surroundings. Never inside the house, to which I find very odd.

The end of the summer brought an end to this madness, but with this year's summer close at hand I pray it does not start again. Venturing up there now is a test in volition for me, even just out to get in my car. Since it is an open area, if you were to walk inside the garage you would be able to see all the way back there. Even during the day, it is still black as night in that region where it happened.

Anyone who would care to tell me what they think are more than welcome to; my feelings about this are a bit scattered as you may have guessed. If you ask me to elaborate on what I had seen, please know that if you were me you would not want to talk about it either.

Snapshots of butterflies, that's all I can say.