My Retrocognitive Dream.

Many of you may not know what a retrocognitive dream is and at first I’ll be honest I didn’t know either and the thought of it just sounded really out there and far out there. Like anyone has it happen to them! Egg on my face!

Wikipedia says: Retrocognition (also known as postcognition), from the Latin retro meaning “backward, behind” and cognition meaning “knowing,” describes “knowledge of a past event which could not have been learned or inferred by normal means.”

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Retrocognition

Now, I’ve had Precognitive Dreaming all my life.. I dreamt about my first child 2 yrs before she ever came into existence as well, as knowing that I would be moving here to AZ and marrying someone who I met at the Trade School I attended and this knowing full well that it is medically impossible for me to have children. (Someday, I’ll relay the story on how my children came to be).

So here I am in this apartment with things happening all around and I am seeing the little girl regularly and nothing really bad has happened to any of us. We weren’t being attacked by dark entities, demons weren’t influencing us to jump in front of a bus it all seemed pretty harmless.

Then comes this dream it was so real. It took me what felt like 20 minutes to orient myself to where I was. To this day, the dream shakes me up and it’s very possible that did happen. I know it did! However, I play devil’s advocate even with myself. I am researching the events out.

The dream starts off like any other normal dream. Seeing as I had just moved into my new apartment it doesn’t surprise me that I’m dreaming about the old one. My estranged husband and I are breaking into the old apt complex because he wanted to see if they fixed the things that they refused to fix while he was living there and for his reasonings to move in with me.

While he is in the back part of the apartment in the 2nd bedroom I am trying to hurry him along and get us out of there before we get caught but he is oblivious to me and lo and behold I get caught by the neighbors upstairs and to the right of the apartment. I didn’t like them out of dreamland anymore than I liked them in dreamland. So, I shut the door and made it look like I was looking for something that was dropped on the ground. I walked away and hurried around to the side of the apartment complex that had the back bedrooms were on. I quickly explained to Tom that the neighbors saw me and we needed to get out there. He climbed through the window and we set of back to our apartment.

There is an empty lot next to the old apartment complex. However, in the dream it wasn’t empty there was an old Victorian house that was very creepy looking, windows broken, boards missing on the side of the house and the over all feel was one of dread, anger, deep sorrow, and fear. Tom was head of me in the dream and he crossed over a garage roof jumped down which caused me to scream his name and go running after him.

He was already through the back yard of the place and heading through the backdoor of this abandoned run down Victorian home. I surveyed my options and followed him through. The moment I hit the back door I got hit with this overwhelming fear, hatred, anger, and sorrow. Instantly the visions started I saw death everywhere. I wanted to run and get away from what I seeing, however, what was in the house was determined that I see it all. I grabbed the nearest wall and braced for the onslaught of images taking in deep breaths and slowly blowing it out to keep myself centered and grounded.

I saw the home as it had been in the late 1890’s early 1900’s. It was a beautiful 2 story 4 or 5 bedroom home. Where I was standing was the mud room and smelled of dirt, saw dust, and sunshine. I started walking through the house and entered what I made out to be the Kitchen. It smelled of bacon, bread and it felt homey. I smiled while in the kitchen, but it didn’t last long. I was then in the middle of the home, in a small hallway. To the left you entered the Parlor Room and to the right was the formal living room and formal dining room. There was a stairway that lead up to the second floor. In its time it was it was built of mahogany. The house smelled of linseed oil and flowers.

You could hear children laughing and playing. You knew this was a home that strict but had lots of love. Just as soon as I felt that I looked up where the stairs where and I saw the little girl who had been in my apartment. She was shaking her head and a smile came across her face and the next visions hit me hard. I was shaking my head trying to shake the visions away, but they wouldn’t leave. I gave into them and tears slid down my face. In one upstairs room. There was my little girl on the floor dead a gunshot wound to the back and head, in another room a little boy, with the same gun shot wounds, in another room, another girl with identical wounds. In the Master bedroom a woman lay on the floor with multiple gunshot wounds to her and one to the back of her head. In the same room as this woman there was an older child also dead with the same gunshot wounds as the younger children. I looked around the rooms and I noticed a cradle and nappies, but I saw no baby. I looked at the little girl who was on the stairway except she wasn’t a little girl anymore she was the oldest sibling and she was pissed and angry and she showed me papers that said the mother had killed the children and herself in a murder suicide. They couldn’t find the father a maid and a 6 month baby whose name was either Emily or Elise. I am still to this day unsure of exactly what the baby’s name was.

I was shown pictures of the father, the maid and of the baby. I was also told that the story was wrong that was written. The Mother’s name was Anneliese, or something very similar to that. It was said that she first tried to kill the children with a sleeping tonic and when that didn’t work she used the gun on the children and then herself. This child who was about 14 or 15 yrs of age with so much hatred and anger built up in her repeatedly said No! Not true! She didn’t know who had killed them, but it wasn’t the mother. It was however the maid who tried to give the children the sleeping tonic.

My heart ached for this children and all I wanted to do was bring them some peace and rest. All they wanted was to know what happened to their baby sister. I nodded that I understood and turned to walk out the house. The minute I was through the threshold the door slammed behind me and the oldest was in the upstairs window looking down.. I remember thinking there was evil in that house. A very big evil.

I met up with Tom and at Burger King which put me back in the present day but I could still see the house. We got back to my new apt and I asked him where Peanut was our little Chihuahua was. At that moment the both of us realized we left him in the old apt. So we rushed back around the side of the old complex back to the back window opened it up and called for Peanut. He came running towards us we scooped him and started back around. I instantly told Tom that I wasn’t going back the way we first went. I wasn’t going to step back into that house of evil. He shook his head at me and laughed and said yeah, it did evil lived there, but he went through the house and I went around. As I was coming out I saw a home being built-in front of the old house. The oldest child looking out with all this anger and hatred. My last thought to this dream was if they put a house in front of where the old was. The children who live there will have a new haunting ground besides my place. God, help whomever lives in that house. I woke up instantly and felt like I had to do something to help these children to find out what happened to their baby sister.

To this day, I have been researching. I even put my top researchers on the project and we have come up with nothing. I know that what happened is real as you and I are real. I saw those children for days in my home. I didn’t make them up.

What I wasn’t  prepared for was the calm of the storm passing and the onslaught of entities that would be screwing with each one of us in our home…

 

A Little About My Apt Complex

Through a little researching this is what I can tell you about my apt complex.

Back before Arizona was a State it was part of the Mexican Territory. The Apache, Pima, and The Hopi Indians lived here in the Valley of The Sun. Gold and Copper were mined here by Mexican Nationals. My Apt Complex wasn’t even thought of then.

When settlers came here in the late 1800’s my area was mostly farmland. Hard to believe that now. Downtown Phoenix is still Downtown just busier and built up.

My complex wasn’t built until 1950. It’s a 5 unit property that at one time was a 9 unit property that also had mobile homes in the back part of the property. Still has the foundations for them.

At one time it was owned by a an Arizona official who worked on cars here. I’m told it was a nice complex then. Now it’s owned by someone in CA and has become part of the slums of Phoenix.

At one point it was a shelter for homeless and battered women, but it was shut down due to the owner running a scam on the City of Phoenix. It was left abandoned due to the City claiming it was uninhabitable. (I wonder why, remember my unit is only powered in the back half not in the front half.)

It was sold again, fixed up and 5 yrs ago there was a fire that took out, you guessed it, my apt. Burnt it to the ground. I can’t find any information on whether there was a death from the fire or not. Those around the neighborhood don’t believe so.

They fixed and rebuilt my apt from a studio to a 2 bedroom. It’s a small 2 bedroom. In the bedrooms you have enough room for, a bed, a dresser, and a desk. There is no closet. However, there are shelves built in. I hung a shower rod in my room for my clothes as well as some of my daughter’s.

The kitchen is off the Master bedroom. The kitchen has one counter, the only counter, with cupboards above and below for dishes. They are the only cupboards in the kitchen. The stove is small like you would find in a studio apt. The fridge is next to the stove. Now your probably asking where the sink is. It is one the wall that leads to the living room. That’s all it is a one basin sink with a cupboard below. No place to put dishes that are dirty or need to be dried. 

The bathroom is on the same wall as the sink only it is tiny with only a toilet, sink, and shower. No tub that’s how small it is. It has a window that has a ledge where you can put a few personal items. No towel rack or toilet paper holder.

The living room is small. Right now it has a make shift bed made of totes and cushions for my son to sleep on. It has a dining table no chairs albeit for one if we remember to get the chair out of my room. Off the living room is my daughter’s room. That’s the layout of my apt. Not bad but not great either.

You’re probably wondering why I told you all that and what does it all have to do with the Paranormal. It doesn’t really except I have paranormal activity and there shouldn’t be any reason for it.

In asking around I have learned there has never been birds seen in the yard. In fact no wild life of any kind has been seen on the property. The Palm Trees that are here should be much taller than what they are. They should be as tall as everyone else’s since they were planted around the same time. They aren’t. Grass barely grows here.

They have had sewer problems for a long time and when the previous owner went to have it fixed. They put a camera down the ground and what they found was strange. The old clay pipes were broken in I believe I was told 32 different places but they weren’t normal breaks. It had looked like someone had come through and stomped every place that had a break. Strange huh?

So as you can see weird things have been going on for a long time.

Now why does my apt have half it’s electric. Well, that is something even more strange. It seems the previous tenant shot off a shotgun in the the Master Bedroom and in doing so severed the electrical wiring in the wall. Yes, I know a fire waiting to happen. Why would a grown man shot off a shotgun in the apt? We don’t know.

I can only speculate from what I was told. He was really scared that night when he did it and shortly after that he was gone.

With what I have experienced in my home. He must have seen an entity that was at electrical outlet height. He must of been following it as it moved and got bigger because he fired 6 shots at different varying heights. If that is the case I feel bad for him because it can get pretty scary in my room at times.

I wish I could tell you more but at this point I really don’t know much more. I’m still researching stuff out.

This is a video of my apt.

http://azparanormalresearchcenter.com

The Little Girl…

We made it through the first three weeks of living in our apartment with out much of anything significant happening. Maybe the whole tool thing and the gemstones crashing to the floor and the footsteps in the kitchen are from wishing and hoping for a haunting and peoples over active imaginations? Right? Right. Wrong!

Ever heard the saying the calm before the storm? Let me tell you that we were in the calm. It’s peaceful in the calm. It really is. Nothing happens and your life seems pretty much normal. It’s awesomely great!

Until one day you’re doing your dishes and thinking maybe it’s time we do some EVP (Electronic Voice Phenomenon) work or set up a camera to maybe catch something you know is there. In the midst of all the thinking you see it a bright orb come through your living room and go right into your daughter’s room. At first you think, “No, I didn’t see that!” However, no sooner do you say those words, there goes the orb again through the living room straight into your daughter’s room. Now, you know you’ve seen it and kicking yourself in the ass for not having a camera or camcorder running to catch it. Who’s gonna believe you?

You wait a few minutes and peer around the corner, and you see her, peering out between the crack of the door where the hinges sit. A little girl, 7 or 8 yrs old. You don’t want to startle her. You don’t want to freak yourself out. So, going back to doing dishes. You hear rustling in your daughter’s room. Knowing it’s not your daughter, because she’s at school. You peer around the corner again and she’s back where she was by the door peeking out between the crack. You don’t say anything you hear toys moving and you pretend she’s not there, but you’re whole body and mind are screaming you have a child ghost in your home, “Say 50 Hail Mary’s. Grab your bible anything! Cleanse your home!” Do something!

Of course on the other hand you think it’s just a child. How harmless can it be? So while trying to be sure she’s  still there and you really haven’t gone off the deep end. You play a kinda of peek a boo with her. While doing the dishes. You continue to clean the kitchen hearing more rustling and moving of the toys.

Then as quickly as started it stops. A part of you is actually relieved it is unsettling when you come face to face with a ghost let alone it being one of a child. You hope that it’s the beginning of seeing this child. Wondering why it hasn’t crossed over. Why it found you of all people. Then a little fear sets in. What if she’s not the only one? What if there are more and they aren’t children. What if something’s around and it’s even scarier?

If Washington wasn’t bad enough continued..

If living in Washington taught me anything it’s that living in a home you belief to be haunted you take precautions. Which is precisely what I did.

When the children would say they felt something or heard something we listened and observed but we couldn’t get that clarity we needed. In unpacking things I made sure symbolic things of protection were put out to prevent harm to us. You never know what kind of spirit/entity/demon you may have and there is a difference between all three.

After setting up my bedroom the only room in the apt I could do besides my kitchen due to my daughter’s room and living room having no power. (I will explain why later.) My bedroom became the living room. My sanctuary was overtaken by everyone. My estranged husband started working on projects on my end table. Things got moved around and yes, I became short with people. I wanted my space. Needed it, but no one was listening.

Then it happened that moment of clarity where you just knew that someone was there. My estranged husband and I were were in my room him working on things and tools started flying out of his and bounce on the tile floor. Every time he pick up something up out of his hand it would go. I finally yelled at him to stop throwing his tools. No sooner were those words out when a tool went flying out of his hands. I looked at him and he said, “I can’t keep them in my hand”. I laughed and said “well, did you butter your hands cuz you seem to be all butter fingers.” He reached for a part and things went off the table. I couldn’t believe it. This spirit or entity was messing with him big time. Not in a malice way, but how a child would play. I got up laughing to get a drink. Just as I hit the door, he was reaching for something and a loud crash sounded. On the floor was my son’s white bowl of all his gemstones. I was mad. Tom was shocked and we both knew then that this was just the beginning of what would be happening.

We cleaned up the mess. I got my drink and Tom gave up what he was doing. I kept thinking I just signed a yr lease. Do I really wanna do Washington all over again? Is this just a playful child or was this the beginning of something much worse?

If Washington wasn’t bad enough

As many of you may not know. Angelicnitemare and AZ Paranormal Research Center are one and the same. I just hated having to flip between accounts to blog. So, as Angelicnightmare I will be blogging on other things but as AZ Paranormal Research Center (AZPRC) for short I will be blogging on the Paranormal.

As the title suggests Washington should of taught me about Haunted Places, but it didn’t.

On, January 28, 2015, I signed my year long lease looking forward to my own place with my daughter. Well, that’s how it was suppose to be, but that’s not how it happened.

Instead of it being her and I, it was and still is my estranged husband our son, our daughter myself and my ESA, Peanut. Not complaining really, but there are times I wish it was just her and I.

My son and daughter decided to spend the night in our new apt alone while us adults got stuff ready to move over. No big deal right? Other than there would be no electric, there were holes in my wall where an AC unit should of sat, but they were stolen right before I signed by lease and it’s January in Phoenix, AZ. Cold! We agreed for them to spend the night.

The estranged husband and I are packing and of course fighting (part of the reason I wanted my own place and out of his) my two kids come back and ask for blankets, food and of course Peanut. We sent them over with what they asked for and a few totes as well. We went back to fighting and packing.

The next morning my kids come over early and both excited, nervous, but excited at the same time said, “Our apt is Haunted!” Paying attention to what they were saying and remembering when I went to sign my lease, I saw a man in Apt 9, who was between the window and curtain, but also knowing that was impossible because there was no one in 9. It’s unrentable!

I looked at them both and  said how do you know it’s haunted? They looked back at me and gave me that look of “Mom, you have a Facebook Group, Community Page, Website, and Blog all about the Paranormal and you ask how we know!” We heard knocks, then footsteps of a little kid in the kitchen, and then something in Trin’s room! Mom! It’s awesome! In the back of my mind I’m thinking yeah awesome!

On February 4th we Officially moved in and right away I knew something wasn’t right! I constantly felt watched. Constantly felt like something was in my home, but refused to reveal itself. Of course I heard the knocks on the walls and doors. Kid’s footsteps in my kitchen (my bedroom looks into the kitchen) but never seeing anything. I knew there was a child spirit in the home I felt that, but there was always this darker feeling just on the edge of things….

Well, this is where I am going to leave you folks at.. Trust me.. you’ll want to come back and read what’s next.. fyi, I’m still in the apt.. so much to tell..

Please Bare with me!

I have been going through a lot of changes recently. I am revamping my life and revamping my WordPress. Please bare with me as I go through these changes. Once everything is together I will be back with a vengeance!

Thank you..

My Possession/Exorcism

From a young age, I knew things that I shouldn’t know. I felt things, understood things that didn’t make sense, but I knew them to the core of me. I was 3 or 4 when Sable came into my life. That’s the name it called itself. I never saw her,  but she was always there talking to me, making me feel better when I cried at night. She was my friend. We would play together and when my Dad, would come to visit me. She would tell me to hide under the bed and we would hide. (My Dad was molesting me). Of course, they would always find me under the bed and off to my Dad’s house I would go for the day or the weekend. My Dad was a drinker so he would get drunk and things would start. Sable was always there telling me that things would be okay. That things would get better and when I was older. I would understand then and would get my revenge then. How nice it sounded to my child ears. I loved and hated him.

I was a lonely child having really no friends growing up so it seemed only natural to me to have her. She stayed with me. She would disappear at times, but always come back. She was there when I was 7 yrs old and went to my last foster home, my adopted home. She didn’t like my adopted mother. She hated her. She would tell me all the time, you don’t want to go there. She’s mean! She will never accept you, love you like I do.  I’m the only one who understands you. Who knows what you are. When I would ask her what I was she would laugh and say “Oh, Child, you are special you have been chosen!” Chosen, for what I didn’t know but it felt good to be told I was special and chosen. As I got older the less and less I saw of her, but she would always come back on my bad days, telling me that I someday I would get revenge over all that hurt me! I wanted to make everyone pay for hurting me. Oh, to see them hurt like I did or make them hurt worse than me was music to my ears and filled my mind ways on hurting them.

I was 9 when my Biological mother came to see me in my foster home. She was pregnant with my sister. I didn’t know this woman at all, and it scared and angered me, that this woman who was my mother could replace me so easily with another child! And she was talking of us being a family? How could she! At the time, I thought it was because I would betray my now new mother, if I loved my biological mother. (No, it was Sable whispering in my ear. Keeping me from my biological family) A few phone calls and I told my biological mother I never wanted to see her again. Some odd reason that I didn’t know at the time Sable was very happy about this.

I got my very first real friend in 5th grade, Sherry Bish, and Sable wasn’t needed so much, but she was always there in the background watching waiting and biding her time. It was also a time boys came into the picture. Boys who were mean and cruel and there would be Sable whispering to me at night that I would get my revenge on them when I was older and to remember that I was special and chosen.  Again visions danced in my head of torturing these boys. It felt good.

Fast forwarding to 13 and when the possession happened;

After being adopted and moving to Utah, many of you know my experiences and if you don’t read past blogs.

What many of you don’t know is that during that time, it was October of 1983, I was sealed to my adopted family in the Mormon Temple, in Provo, Utah. It was shortly after that the possession happened. I don’t know why it happened right then, but I believe Sable (not it’s real name) felt that if it didn’t then it would loose it chance forever. It was easy for him because I had been groomed for the take over. I remember going to bed one way and waking up the next day different.  Everything was sharper clearer and a part of me was trying to fight this new intrusion, but after you have been worn down you can’t fight it any more you give in. You let the more dominate one take over.  It’s like looking at the word through eyes not your own. My psychic abilities turned on at once and it was very overwhelming.

I believe because I was away from my great grandmother who had psychic ability and away from her protection it felt it was time also. It was why it hated my biological mother talking about us being a family and convinced to me to stop stop seeing her. If I went back to my biological family then it would never have a chance.  With my great grandmother’s help I would grow up understanding more about my abilities and how to use them.

It hated my adopted mother because she would teach me right from wrong. She may not of understood my abilities which it used to terrorize her, but she would raise me with some morality and of God.  Sealing me to them forever also pulled me further away from it.

I don’t know why it took 3 more years before an Exorcism happened. Maybe because there were other factors at play that made it difficult to determine possession or mental illness. The day the Exorcism happened. I can remember going into the church with my Father, mother, younger brothers, my sister’s husband, the 1st counsilor and 2nd counsilor and the Bishop of the Mormon church. I don’t know how many hours I was there and everything that happened and truth be told I’m thankful. I do remember when the Demon left, there was a flash of bright light and one minute I was sitting and the next I was on the floor.  I felt like I was me again!

For 2 more years I was plagued by this Demon coming to sit on my chest never seeing it, but feeling the weight of it. It’s finger pointing at me and saying, “I had you once, I’ll get you again!” One night at 18 yrs of age, and having enough of this, I screamed out, “God, Save me!” In that instance a light brighter than any light you could ever imagine filled my room and outside my window stood 3 Native Americans, (In Mormon words it would be the 3 Nephites.), They told me that I would never be bothered again and to this day it has held true. Every once while just out of sight I feel it, but I remember what those 3 said and it brings me comfort in knowing that it can never possess me again.

I keep an open mind that anything and everything is possible now. It showed me things that not any normal human being should ever see. It also helped me solidified my faith in the God/dess. To this day, I can not watch Demonic movies because I know how real it is. I try to help those that have been touched by evil and helping them empower themselves against dark forces. Due to this happening I feel it is my calling. Yes, it was right I am special and I was chosen to show the darkness for what it is! Once touched by darkness you always carry a piece of it with you not in the sense that you are possessed but to help you remember to always be vigilante in your doings, because if you don’t it can be to easy to let evil take over you.

Quotes from the Exorcism of Emily Rose that I believe fit this very well.

Father Moore [reading from Emily’s letter] People say that God is dead, but how can they think that if I show them the Devil?

The epitaph on Emily’s grave: “Work out your own Salvation, with fear and trembling.“

My 2nd Experience as a teenager

After that horrifying experience with the knives. I thought for sure things would have gotten better.  Nope, not in the least. I still felt trapped between heaven and hell. Things were happening I couldn’t understand. The kids in my area that I went to church with. Couldn’t relate to me. And if I tried to bring it up, things got twisted and sent right back to my mother.

Being pulled out of school wasn’t so bad. I helped out in the daycare center my parents co-owned. I worked with the infants to a yr old it was a good 2 weeks, but then that happiness wouldn’t last long.  There was an opening in Primary Children’s Psych Annex. Yep, my first stint with the inpatient treatment. Talk about feeling like you were loosing your mind and being everything you didn’t want to be.

I spent over a month in a half in Primary Children’s Annex with only one outcome. The issue wasn’t me, it was my parents. My mother wouldn’t hear of it. Of course it was my fault. I was an evil child. Why couldn’t anyone see it. She stamped it on my forehead.  Removal of me from there and mother telling everyone the Psychiatrist was a quack. Got her the sympathy votes and me more ostracized than ever. I hated her and everything she stood for.

After being out of the psych hospital and trying to have a normal life. I was upstairs in my room and my room spun and I could see the walls run with blood, but this time it was different. It was looking through a window into another place and seeing something horrible that happened. I focused and realized that I was in a friend’s room, but how? I had never been there ever! But I could see this friend clearly and with a shotgun. I watched as she blew her head off and brain matter go everywhere. I freaked out screaming her name over and over again. It was to late. She was gone.

I ran downstairs and told my mom not to pick up the phone, Kim would be calling me and telling me that Colleen had committed suicide. My mom not believing me. Jokingly asked and how did she do this and how do you know? I said I saw it. She still didn’t believe me. I begged her not to answer the phone it would be for me and that I would answer it. Of course, she didn’t listen to me.

The phone rang about 5 minutes later and I raced down the stairs like I had wings attached to my feet trying to beat my mother to the phone. I didn’t. She answered it looked at me with her smile of I caught you in a lie, but her expression quickly changed. I heard her ask who was calling and I heard her repeat the callers name Kim. I smiled inwardly for a moment. She then asked what the call was in regards to. I don’t know what Kim said, but the phone dropped and my mother screamed for my Dad and was told the phone was for me. I talked to Kim for all of 15 minutes. She reconfirmed what I already knew that Colleen was dead. How I wish I had never experienced a friends death, but I know she is in a better place.

I have no idea what my parents were talking about in the bedroom but I knew it was about me. I really hated my mother and her closed mindness and thinking that I was evil. Was I evil? Did I bring this upon myself? Or was there a reason for all this happening to me? There are more questions than answers at times and this was one of those times.

I won’t go into the 3rd incident because it’s not really paranormal and it’s a guilt I feel everyday. Someday, I hope my dad will understand it wasn’t him, but it was all me. I don’t fault him for his actions they were quite deserved.

St John’s Anglican Church in Mooi River, Natal Midlands, South Africa

I decided today to go on a whim and visit a graveyard in Mooi River.  I asked my mom for directions to the graveyard that she knew of.  She messages me back and tells me where to.

It wasn’t hard to find it.  The church was so easy to spot.  Standing there, and standing out like a beacon of hope.  It is called St John’s Anglican Church, located 2km outside Mooi River in the beautiful Natal Midlands.   It is a small church that is no longer being used and has been converted to a space for a after-school daycare center.  The graveyard has been cordoned off so that the children do not do any damage to the graves.

I had to ask my mom for the name of the lady who runs the daycare center so that I could let her know I was here to visit the graveyard so that she would not get suspicious and that the children would not get scared of me walking around.

I had a great afternoon going through the headstones, amazed at all the flowers and plants growing amongst the dead and some of the graves that have stood in time despite the terrible neglect that befell the land.

Here is a slide-show of the rest of the photos as there are too many to post to take up this page…

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Just A little background information on myself.

I don’t like talking about myself so this post is going to be a little hard for me. I keep much of myself closed off from the world. I don’t let very many people into my inner sanctum because there are very few I trust. But starting this blogging thing along with the Page I own and the Group I own, I have found a sense of me. A me that I have always known has been there but afraid to be open about and this is why.

I didn’t have the perfect life. No one in this world is ever dealt the perfect hand. You are given a set cards and out of the those cards you must play the game of life. Now, you can gain cards and you can loose cards but those basic cards are yours and let me tell you mine were pretty crappy. For every card I gained, someone came along and had taken them plus more.

I grew up in NY, believing that how I was was normal. That growing up in foster care was the way things were. I had no clue who my mother was.  However; I knew who my father was he would come every other weekend and take me out. I eventually was put up for adoption at the age of 7, but didn’t get adopted until I was 11 yrs old. Moved to Utah at 13 yrs old and got instantly put back into that states foster care system. So yep you got it . I was a foster kid for life. That takes a toll on a person’s psyche. Thus left me wondering who I was, where I fit in and why it appeared nobody wanted me.

I had always known that I was different. I can’t explain it. No more than I can explain why the sky is blue, the grass is green or why the sun is yellow. I just knew. I could see things that other people couldn’t see, feel things that other people didn’t understand, and I could predict things that were going to happen or had happened. I just knew things that I knew I shouldn’t know.

I had been with my adoptive parents since the summer I turned 7. I had just turned 8 and we were watching the Crucification of Christ on TV. I turned to my adopted parents with tears streaming down my face sobbing, begging them to explain to me. How could they do that to my brother? Do they not know it will cost them in the end? It shocked them needless to say because I wasn’t raised with religion at all. They were my first religious family. I don’t think I ever got an answer to that question but it sure set a precedent.

When I was 13 yrs old and we moved to Utah. My life went one way and my adopted parents tried to push in another way. We clashed. The more my abilities came into play the more worried and scared they become.  What do you do with a child who is telling you things that just can’t be true. The scariest occurrences and what put me back into foster care were 3 incidents happening back to back.  The first incident occurred shortly after moving in the new house in Utah. My Mother and I had been arguing and I was feeling tired. I was tired of living and tired of having no one that understood what I was going through. I was tired of not having anyone to talk to about what was happening to me. I could see Heaven and I could see Hell and I felt trapped in between them.

There were times when my walls ran with blood and it would freak me out terrify me to know end. In the next moment things would be perfectly fine and dandy. I thought I was loosing my mind. I thought I was going crazy like my own biological mother (that’s what I was told she was). The lady that had moved with us from NY was getting freaked out by me because I would say things do things that weren’t natural. (I don’t remember unfortunately what or why). She never experienced anything and the house wasn’t haunted by any means. This was my own very own personal hell I was living in.

My mother on this particular day of things going out of whack for me. Her and I butting heads like no tomorrow. She came up the stairs to fight with me about dishes of all things, the lack of my not doing them. I had knives in front of me an wanted to kill myself to escape all the turmoil I felt trapped in. I was sitting on the floor getting angrier and angrier and the more angry I got the more I kept looking at the knives on the floor and looking back at her. I just wanted her to shut up about the dishes. I just wanted some peace! What happened next not only scared the holy hell out of her, but scared me as well. I remember taking one last look back at her and her screaming. In the door jam was one of the knives. It missed her by just a fraction of an inch. I never touched the knives at all. Not once! But there it was moving in the door jam as if I had thrown it and thrown it hard. That night I was whisked off to my first Psych Hospital, but they didn’t have room for me so I was given my very first tranquilizer, Thorazine. It was such a strong dosage that I felt like a robot, but everything went still. I didn’t have anymore experiences.

Until the second time.