My Ghost Story

Tis' the season for ghost stories, so I thought I would go ahead and share one of mine. As someone who has lived in a haunted house (near the infamous Bridgewater Triangle!) and who works with spirits frequently, I have a fair share of spooky stories, but this one... well, this one is the scariest. Its also the one that taught me to be the humblest when dealing with those who often cannot be seen.

About 20 years ago, when I was about a naïve 18 years old, I was visiting my parents very haunted house in Brockton, MA. I could go on and tell you about the haunts, but those stories are for another time. It was October and fall in New England reeks eerie and strange. Their neighbors were over and well, we decided, why not have a séance…. with you guessed it…. a Ouija board.

Now let me explain to you my mindset at the time. I was naïve 18-year-old who had been studying the occult for about 5 years at that point. I am a fourth-generation witch so I already could sense when spirits were around, nothing new there. I had just joined The Temple of the Seekers, the Ceremonial Magick group that I would later in the future be initiated into and gain formal training in the occult. But, again as naïve 18-year-old, I had everything in control. For fucks sake, I even had my robe from Temple with me. I could conjure shit and hold the fort down.

I cast the circle (oh yes…I was a bad ass witch) to protect us from the uglies, we lite the candles and six of us sat around the table in the circle with the Board in the center. Myself and our neighbor Bob had our hands on the planchette asking the usual stupid questions everyone asks when trying to get in contact with the other side. After 15 minutes of questioning, we got nothing.

We took our pee breaks and started gabbing. Telling ghost stories of our own. My dad always had the best, growing up on an old farm in upstate New York. The candles were still flickering in the darkness and then….

I knew something was in the room. The tingling feeling, I knew so well crawled up the back of my neck and my left arm went cold and completely numb. That is how they let me know they are there. That is how the spirits tell me they are ready to speak. Without any hesitation I just said, “It wants to speak to us now….”

No sooner had I uttered those words than Bob and I placed our hands on the planchette….and no sooner than it came…….

Within a matter of milliseconds, it was like a gust of wind came in: the bird cage holding my mother’s cockatoo suddenly fell knocking the candles over and igniting   the curtains on fire, plunging the room in darkness. A lot of screaming ensued followed by a lot of people jumping on one another in fear (including yours truly).

WHAT THE LIVING FUCK JUST HAPPENED.

I literally wanted to pee from fright. I had to pee, but hell was I going by myself. I grabbed my sister, and we went to the bathroom together. That night, after we all regained our ego’s and after the neighbors left, my sister and I slept in my parents’ room, huddled on the floor in fear something would get us. I mainly slept in their room because my old bedroom was full of nasty Shadow people that were relentless energy manipulators and also my room was next to the room that was aptly called “Grandpa’s Room, “ and no…he wasn’t our Grandpa.
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I learned three lessons that night:

1. At that time, I was not a bad ass witch
2. Respect the dead
3. Do not ask stupid questions of the Ouija board

 
Since then, I have learned a lot more from working with spirits. Now, I am not afraid of those tingles up my neck or the feelings of something wanting to talk now. I also know the correct ways of using the Ouija board and, most importantly, how to set up boundaries and protect myself and others from negative influences. I am also bad ass at cleansings. That night changed me a lot. I am not scared of things like that anymore. I am a bad ass witch now, with a little more control. But I also know when I need to be humble. As always, the dead teach the living.

**I should note, to add to this... the cockatoo died the next day, headless. I swear to you it is the truth.**

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