The beginning....Contact with another dimension.
Chapter one...
I think it all began when I was a young pre-teen....
A friend and I had a ouija board, and used it numerous times....I wasn't a believer. I honestly thought we guided it to give us the answers we sought. Foolish teenage questions, does so and so like me?, did so and so notice me?, did, does, if, will I, all the silly childish stuff that I thought the game was designed for.
But somewhere in the very recesses of my subconscious a seed had been planted, a door cracked to open, a feeling that something was happening. It did!
I remember like it was this morning, the smell of the room, feel of the cool board as we laid it between us on the bed, my friends unflattering perfume, the faint ray of sun creeping over the horizon but hanging desperately to a crack in my blinds...the cool crisp feel of fresh bedding beneath my folded legs and bare feet. It's as if I am still there...the scent of freshly lit candle and extinguished match hanging lazily in the air....the feeling of certain destiny hanging there too.
Before reaching for the 'eye' I remember instead reaching deep into my own soul. There I dredged up some intangible thread of knowledge, need, destiny. I knew, in my very bones, that this was how it is done. Suddenly, yet slowly and reverently, I found myself willing things into being, watering the seed.
I opened myself to some intangible fog, willing it to know I would accept what I found there, would allow access through me to all that needed me, and almost seemed to pray for proof that indeed what was seeping into my soul was real. I didn't need to discuss with my girlfriend the fact that this was serious stuff to me, that this time all juvenile games were not to be played, she had fallen into a quiet acceptance of the fact that this time was different.
As my fingers made grazing light contact with the 'eye' I felt a warmth instantly emanate from and to my fingertips, like a circuit had been closed and I had connected with it. Here is where my memory has always been foggy, distant impressions more than distinct actions. I don't remember speaking, except I can remember the sound of my voice. I don't remember the 'eye' moving, or making an attempt to interpret or read a response, yet I have certain knowledge that thoughts were cast and responses given. I don't remember ever opening my eyes or communicating with my girlfriend, yet I can see her sitting quietly, her hands in her lap, her eyes cast down towards them. No words come to mind, but I know so much was said that I can't and never have been able to put into words.
Something startled me, a noise I can't recall, and I opened my eyes.
My girlfriend was leaning against the wall, hands still folded in her lap, fast asleep. The sun was no longer struggling to reach between the blinds, it was pitch dark outside...and three hours had passed in a breath. In a fog I tried to organize my thoughts and memories, catch up with what I knew had been a moment, but had been three hours. I woke up my girlfriend, who looked at me puzzled as she glanced at the clock, but remained uncharacteristically quiet. She stretched, gave the window and the night out side of it a quizzical frown. Reaching for the knob on the closed bedroom door she barely mumbled goodnight as she left, shutting the door behind her. In the distance I heard the front door thump shut and knew in a minute and a half she'd be safely home. We never, not once, discussed what had happened that evening. I did try once to describe the next event to her, but she laughed it off as if I were joking and I never brought it up again.
The ouija board was placed in its box and slid under my bed, never to be played with again...? I've wondered from time to time what ever became of it, because I eyed it there, as if it were speaking to me, on occasion now and then for a couple of months, and nothing else. Oh, I know it didn't disappear, I'm sure my mother threw it out when we moved or passed it along to someone elses kids....but I don't know. I remember seeing the neat flat box covered in dust, as if the dust were guarding the secrets within. In my heart of hearts I know that no one else ever used it, that it's last event was mine.
Eventually, twenty years later, my own children would ask to buy a ouija board. They received a flat and decisive 'no'. They had to have sensed something, because my children, like most, always gave me a hard time about 'no's. This time they didn't.
Back to the subject.........it was the next night, close to midnight, that she first appeared to me....
-to be continued-
I think it all began when I was a young pre-teen....
A friend and I had a ouija board, and used it numerous times....I wasn't a believer. I honestly thought we guided it to give us the answers we sought. Foolish teenage questions, does so and so like me?, did so and so notice me?, did, does, if, will I, all the silly childish stuff that I thought the game was designed for.
But somewhere in the very recesses of my subconscious a seed had been planted, a door cracked to open, a feeling that something was happening. It did!
I remember like it was this morning, the smell of the room, feel of the cool board as we laid it between us on the bed, my friends unflattering perfume, the faint ray of sun creeping over the horizon but hanging desperately to a crack in my blinds...the cool crisp feel of fresh bedding beneath my folded legs and bare feet. It's as if I am still there...the scent of freshly lit candle and extinguished match hanging lazily in the air....the feeling of certain destiny hanging there too.
Before reaching for the 'eye' I remember instead reaching deep into my own soul. There I dredged up some intangible thread of knowledge, need, destiny. I knew, in my very bones, that this was how it is done. Suddenly, yet slowly and reverently, I found myself willing things into being, watering the seed.
I opened myself to some intangible fog, willing it to know I would accept what I found there, would allow access through me to all that needed me, and almost seemed to pray for proof that indeed what was seeping into my soul was real. I didn't need to discuss with my girlfriend the fact that this was serious stuff to me, that this time all juvenile games were not to be played, she had fallen into a quiet acceptance of the fact that this time was different.
As my fingers made grazing light contact with the 'eye' I felt a warmth instantly emanate from and to my fingertips, like a circuit had been closed and I had connected with it. Here is where my memory has always been foggy, distant impressions more than distinct actions. I don't remember speaking, except I can remember the sound of my voice. I don't remember the 'eye' moving, or making an attempt to interpret or read a response, yet I have certain knowledge that thoughts were cast and responses given. I don't remember ever opening my eyes or communicating with my girlfriend, yet I can see her sitting quietly, her hands in her lap, her eyes cast down towards them. No words come to mind, but I know so much was said that I can't and never have been able to put into words.
Something startled me, a noise I can't recall, and I opened my eyes.
My girlfriend was leaning against the wall, hands still folded in her lap, fast asleep. The sun was no longer struggling to reach between the blinds, it was pitch dark outside...and three hours had passed in a breath. In a fog I tried to organize my thoughts and memories, catch up with what I knew had been a moment, but had been three hours. I woke up my girlfriend, who looked at me puzzled as she glanced at the clock, but remained uncharacteristically quiet. She stretched, gave the window and the night out side of it a quizzical frown. Reaching for the knob on the closed bedroom door she barely mumbled goodnight as she left, shutting the door behind her. In the distance I heard the front door thump shut and knew in a minute and a half she'd be safely home. We never, not once, discussed what had happened that evening. I did try once to describe the next event to her, but she laughed it off as if I were joking and I never brought it up again.
The ouija board was placed in its box and slid under my bed, never to be played with again...? I've wondered from time to time what ever became of it, because I eyed it there, as if it were speaking to me, on occasion now and then for a couple of months, and nothing else. Oh, I know it didn't disappear, I'm sure my mother threw it out when we moved or passed it along to someone elses kids....but I don't know. I remember seeing the neat flat box covered in dust, as if the dust were guarding the secrets within. In my heart of hearts I know that no one else ever used it, that it's last event was mine.
Eventually, twenty years later, my own children would ask to buy a ouija board. They received a flat and decisive 'no'. They had to have sensed something, because my children, like most, always gave me a hard time about 'no's. This time they didn't.
Back to the subject.........it was the next night, close to midnight, that she first appeared to me....
-to be continued-
posted by Susynne at 1/12/2006 11:34:00 AM
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