Possession in a Child's Perspective

Hello, viewers of the blog, it’s Heidi. At long last, you get to hear from me if you ever had any interest in what I have to say. I guess I’ll start off by saying that I never wrote anything before because I don’t like looking back on what happened to my family and I. Those are some of the worst years of my life, so naturally, I wouldn’t want to reflect on them or even go back and remember the slightest detail. I mean, some of the stuff possibly caused by our issues with the paranormal is still affecting me today. It was only just recently that I got my medical issues and auto-immune disease under control, and I’m 16 now. So it’s been a bit. But now, I’ve grown somewhat, and I think I can share a bit with you all.

I’m not quite sure where to start, because there was just so much that happened. I also tend to block things off and forget them so I don’t have to deal with them, so there are scary experiences I don’t quite remember. Cause after seeing your dad get possessed multiple times, you’d want to forget it too. Actually, how about I talk about that?

I don’t remember what age I was or anything like that, but I do remember waking up to my little sister, Emi, shaking me and bawling. I could hear my mom yelling at me to wake up, and I was so lost and confused. I walk out of my bedroom to see my dad sitting crisscrossed on my front porch, eyes closed, and mumbling something in a language I’d never heard before. It was the first time I’d ever looked at someone, who I’d seen almost every day of my life, and think, “That’s not him”. It’s an eerie feeling. 

He then reaches out to Emi and says something, trying to grab her. She, of course, screams and starts crying even more because to her, that’s a stranger. I’m still stuck in shock and am not sure what to feel, but I followed what my mom told me. I grabbed Emi and ran outside with her, both of us barefoot and draped in our blankets. We run across our gravel driveway to the neighborhood across from us to reach our neighbors for help. After we’re on the road and running there, the shock wears off and I start bawling just like Emi. Thinking about it now, we must’ve been a sight to the other neighbors. Two young girls wrapped up in their blankets running barefoot in the middle of the street and crying. But when it’s happening to you, and you’re a kid, you’re just trying to reach some normalcy and safety. You don’t really care about what you look like.

We finally made it to the neighbors and we had ended up staying there for a bit. I’m extremely grateful that they were able and willing to help. I remember staying in the guest room, looking out the window, and seeing dozens of police cars and ambulances outside of my house. Everything ran through my head so fast. “Oh my god, what happened? Is Dad ok? Is Mom ok?”, those kinds of thoughts. But you can’t go and check because you’re too scared and it’s too dangerous. I sort of felt helpless.

Moral of the story is, getting possessed, or watching someone get possessed, is terrifying. It’s unpredictable. One minute you’re you, and the next you’re someone your children are terrified of, yet you still look the same. That’s the scary part.