Call it being psychic, call it being in tune with the universe, call it being spiritually sensitive, call it a sixth sense. Whatever you call it, not even the most powerful of anti-psychotic drugs have stopped me from seeing and feeling things. They've always been there, just on the edge of my vision, or tickling the lobes of my ears. What do I think they are? Beings from other dimensions? Good and evil? Things which are locked to this earth? I don't know and I refuse to try and categorise them.
This particular tale took place a couple of years ago. I'd approached someone we'll call Subject X to make a documentary on their life. Subject X's boss is not known for being a nice person. Sure, they've tried to clean up their act in recent years but the past has a habit of never forgetting you, especially when you're in the media spotlight.
Anyway, at the time, Subject X was a free agent. They weren't affiliated with anyone and were more than happy for me to camp out in their life for a month or two (or longer, depending on how much we had to talk about). We began going through the usual paperwork which comes with making a film when they got the call and went back to work for their old boss.
That was when the contact broke and, needless to say, I was devastated despite having a few more people on my list of potential interviewees. I sent a couple more emails, all of which were carbon copied to various other people who were involved with the film, namely my legal eagles. We got a reply which read distinctly oddly and one of the legal eagles called me up.
“Rae, Rae, Rae! DON'T reply to that email!”
“That's not Subject X writing.”
My heart stopped. “It's the boss, isn't it?”
“Got it in one. Drop it, Rae, at least for now.”
So I did. But I felt a certain affinity Subject X. I do a lot of meditation and praying in my spare time. I feel that the world around is a dark and dangerous place and so meditate for protection for myself and my loved ones. Subject X also became a part of the protection, a white light which is cast around myself and anyone else I choose. I felt he needed it, especially with some of the people he was associating with.
Until a couple of years ago. It was a night much like tonight. Cold, with the promise of winter in the air. I was outside having a cigarette and staring at the clear, star filled sky. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw a dark, shadowy figure run across the garden and straight through the wall of the house. While it made me jump, I thought nothing more of it. A spirit, or ghost, or something else moving from one spot to the other.
That was, until I went to bed. Turning off the lights, I went through the usual ritual of saying prayers and wrapping the white light around myself, my family, and my friends.
But I couldn't sleep. Couldn't settle.
The shadow which had run through the wall was there, standing in the corner of the room. I could feel unseen eyes staring at me. I said a quick banishing prayer and hoped for sleep.
The shadow figure continued to terrorise me. I was sick. I was lethargic. I couldn't write. I couldn't work. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. No matter what I did, it was there, silently pulling my life apart. Finally, at the end of my tether, I consulted a couple of friends. One of them asked me a few questions before falling silent.
“Do you get a familiar feeling from it?” they asked.
“Yep,” I tiredly replied.
“Where do you think it's from?”
“The States. California.”
“Good, because you're probably right. Any idea who it is?”
“Mmmhmmm.” I swayed and leaned against the wall, desperate for sleep. “The Boss.”
“Good. I suspect we're both on the right page for this one and that this is The Boss warning you to back off. He doesn't like the idea of you talking to Subject X.”
The friends went away to the respective homes and began working to get rid of the shadow figure. One instructed me to be ready on a particular night. I was to sit quietly and imagine myself and Subject X surrounded by white light and angels. The image which formed in my mind was amazing with huge, angels, as tall as buildings, surrounding us. All held swords, all were bathed in fire, ready to go in to battle. At the same time, somewhere else in the country, one of the friends, along with a group of other people, worked to get rid of the shadow figure. I was told that, should the figure ever return,
It worked and the figure left. I was able to sleep, eat, write, and get my life back together. It's been gone for a good 18 months now. Although it does like to make the occasional visit to make sure I'm keeping up my end of the deal and staying away. Now it doesn't take much to get rid of it again. A few seconds of meditation and it's gone, banished back to wherever it came from.