Hunter Or Spiritualist?

This is about my background leading into future demon hunting, and revenge for the past.

Sometimes I can feel something watching me. I don't know what it is, but I can always tell where it is. It makes me nervous and paranoid. Even if I'm with other people, it'll come. It doesn't feel like a good thing. It scares me. Like it's playing with my head until I finally break. I can see things out of the corner of my eye a lot, just little shadows running around. I can't quite figure it out, but I need to get rid of it. That's what this is about. I'm pretty sure it's going to come out all over the place, and I apologize for that. I believe in spirits, and demons, and a lot of other stuff. I'm being followed by something, and I'm going to find it and get rid of it however possible.

I'm the apprentice to a deceased hunter. I was being taught to hunt by my father, although I didn't know it at the time. He used to take me with him sometimes, not on actual hunts, but deer hunting. It's funny, I looked up all the places he took me, and you can't hunt deer there because there aren't any. I was only six when it all started. He taught me how to move through anything without making a sound, how to use the four kinds of guns he owned, how to listen and really hear the things that you'd think are just normal noises in nature. He told me about the supernatural whenever he could, and taught me how to figure things out from scratch. He'd give me puzzle after puzzle and I'd solve them. He always played favorites with my brother and I, but to be fair, my brother was never very fond of him, either.

My father moved into a house in Buffalo with my mother. I hated that house. It was haunted by a little girl named Mary and something else. I would always talk to Mary. She was my best friend, but she would never leave the house with me. I remember times when I'd wake up in the middle of the night and all my toys would be floating. It sounds fake, but it gets weirder. I was in the basement with my step-brother when a brick flew right at his head. Me being eight, I ran upstairs screaming. I'd have horrible dreams of things you'd think would terrify a child. Yet, I was never afraid of them. The only time I got afraid, I went to my father and he gave me a small black bible. Why he made us live in that house, I'll probably never know. But I'm glad we moved out. I can't even find the place on Google maps. It's like it just disappeared. I know they condemned it after we said we wouldn't take it back, though.

When I was ten, my father started going up to the alter at church to pray. The Monday right after Mother's Day of 2003 he died. They say it was suicide. It's taken me until now to figure it out that's not how it happened. He didn't kill himself. I knew that I should've stayed home that day.

I left my school books by the door so I could call and have him drop them off, but I never did because it was too late, and I knew it. The night before, he was talking to my mother and step-mother, talking in circles, saying things he knew only I could understand. It was his last puzzle for me, and it took me six years to put it all together.

I'm the daughter of a hunter. I will hunt when the time is right. I don't fully understand everything, so a little guidance would be nice. I know there's a lot more I have to learn before I can go out and stare into the abyss. I just wish I had more time. Anywhere I go, I feel something watching me, even in my own home. I keep three knifes and a katana by my bed at all times. It's just difficult because I can't take them outside. And I still have those dreams. Most tell me I'm describing a nightmare, but that's not what they are to me. They're just extremely vivid dreams to me. My shrink says I'm completely normal. Not even depressed, just slightly stressed with a side of insomnia.

Some will think I'm insane, some may say it. I have my beliefs, and that's all. Once I can go, I'm gone. Off to fight for what they took. Some say they believe in angels, but say they don't believe in demons and spirits. You can't have one extreme without the other. All the women on my mother's side of the family up have some kind of spiritual gift. My great grandmother knew everything about anything in her family's life. She knew the exact day my mother would have her first son and the day he would die. She knew my mother would marry my father. She knew the exact time and day she would die. Every now and then, my mother and I can smell roses and cigars, which means my great grandmother and her boyfriend are around. Yes, she had a boyfriend. My mother's cousin has something to do with dreams. And apparently it's not good at all if she has a dream of you. What scares me is that when I first met her, she looked me in the eye and said, "You're the one I've been having dreams about." I asked her to tell me about them and my grandmother ran up and stopped her. I never stop wondering what they aren't telling me.

My mother has visions. Not very often, but she does. I don't know what I have, if any at all. The closest thing I can think of is that whenever I close my eyes, I see eyes everywhere. Just eyes, that seem to move around and change into more eyes. So many I can't seem to keep track. It's really odd. And I get migraines as well. I'm not old enough to be having migraines like that: where you get dizzy, then just fall to the ground in agony, but what can I do?

I come from a family of spiritualist Christians on my mother's side, and army men and hunters on my father's side. Which I'm supposed to be, who knows? But I will do my best to explore both possibilities. Maybe I'll get lucky and be a little bit of both.