June 7, 2011
More by this author
I’m sure you want to hear about my life, don’t you? I don’t want to tell you, but I know if I don’t tell you you’ll bug me until I do. My life could be described with all negative words, crappy, sucks, terrible, horrid, hopeless, miserable, you know. The normal life of a little girl, oh wait…

Well, all right… I’ll tell you about my life. I’m the middle child of three. I lived with my two brothers, and then my mother and father. I was the ‘mistake child’ my mom and dad wanted three boys, but I came out wrong. This doesn’t sound to wrong, right? But it got worse as I got older.

When I was little, I understood that I was never wanted in my family, and so I started to do things people wouldn’t expect. Just to get the attention I wanted and needed. My family wasn’t normal, if they didn’t get what they wanted they wouldn’t care about it. And so I was that thing. They normally wouldn’t tell me about when dinner was done, and they didn’t drive me to school either. Anyways, that’s beyond the point. I started to do things so my mom and dad would care about me. I started to cut my wrists and bleed on the floor in front of them, I told my little brother to look out the window and then I pushed him… I didn’t mean for him to get hurt, but when I got in trouble I could at least say that my family talked to me. We had a pet kitten and her name was fluffy. Lets put at… they don’t have that little kitten anymore, if you know what I mean. So, if you get my point then you should know that I got the attention from my family. It wasn’t good attention, but my mom and dad actually said words to me.

At age thirteen, my family finally had enough of me. They thought that I had gone insane because of the things I did. I never wanted it to go this far, and it did. My mom and dad on a Sunday afternoon came into my room and grabbed my wrists. I still remember that day; all I was doing was reading a book that I got from one of my friends. Well, I stole from a girl from school. I didn’t really have friends. Anyways, off topic again, I was reading a book and they came in like they were going to be nice. But I knew that was way to good to be true. And then they both jumped on each side of the bed and grabbed my wrists. I screamed in fear, it shocked me. They both took me, grabbed me, and pushed me out of my room and down the stairs. “What are you doing?” I screamed and tried fighting back for them to let go of me. They wouldn’t tell me so I screamed and shrieked, and they still wouldn’t let me go. I remember looking at my two brothers on the couch watching and laughing at me. That was the last time I saw their faces. My mom and dad shoved me into the car, my dad held down my arms as I struggled to make him let go. And my mom buckled me into the car. My mom and dad got in the front seat. I didn’t even bother to ask what we were doing, and they obviously were stupid. Because it wasn’t so hard just to push down the button on the seat belt, and pull up the lock and open the door. But, it was whatever. I stayed quiet the whole ride, because it would of probably caused more problems. I’m surprised they didn’t pat me down before getting in the car; they must trust that I didn’t have a bomb in my pocket. Awe, my family actually thought good of me for once.

At this point, we pulled up to some… creepy building. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but now I know it was the worse building in the world. I didn’t know what to think of it at the time of being thirteen. We pulled up to a gate, and a police officer checked the car, all my family did was point to me when the officer mumbled something to my father. When we pulled in, we went to a building labeled L6. It didn’t stand for anything; it was just another building at wherever we were. We had to go through another gate to get into this building. When we pulled into this lot, I saw a bunch of people sitting on benches and walking. Some of them were crying, others were screaming, some were running into to things to cause pain, and at this I didn’t know what to do or think. They were also wearing the same thing, the things they wore we’re crème colored gowns. Half of the people here looked like they were in an exorcism. I didn’t realize all the things I did to get attention would put in a place like this. It was not suppose to go this far. My mom and father pulled up to a building and got out; they didn’t let me out of the car. They walked into a building, and they came out with a cop. The cop opened the door, one hand on the door, and the hand on his gun. Ready to shoot and fire at any minute. I looked at him with a confused look, and he didn’t do anything, he grabbed my one hand and greeted me… he looked frightened to see me. He didn’t know me, why was he scared? The only reason why I did things like I did was for attention from my family. I swore I would never do anything to anyone else. I got out of the car, and my mom and dad left. That was also the last time I saw them. The cop escorted me to a room, and the room was pure white. No beds, no windows or anything. He closed the door behind me, and I heard a latch, a lock, and slam. Why I was put in here beat me, I had no clue. I sat in there for about three days, and did nothing. They would put food through a slot in the door, but that was about it. I almost felt as if I was going to go crazy. There was nothing to do in this room, but to sit and think. After about a week, a person came in. It was a doctor; he was trying to see if I had mental or physical problems after being in this room. And obviously, I did. I felt like going crazy, there was nothing to do but to stare at the white walls. And they barley gave me enough food to survive, so I obviously lost weight. The doctor told me that I could go outside for fresh air, and he escorted me out. When walking through the hallway, I saw something that scars me till this day. We were walking, and I heard screaming, and banging. I had no clue what was happening but it grew louder, soon enough we got in front of one door… I looked in and there was a priest holding a cross to a girl who was on the best chained to the bedposts. She was screaming in a really deep tone, and it didn’t seem like that girl could make such a noise, but she did. And she was screaming something about the devil. Her head shook, and tossed and turned. I had no clue what was happening so after watching for a few seconds, the doctor pushed me along. Just so I wouldn’t have to see that anymore, then again I was only thirteen at the time. The vision scared me, and all I did after seeing it was think about it. Why was I here? I had nothing wrong with me like that. After going outside I started to panic, I wanted to go back in the room they had originally put me in. I felt safer in there. When they put me back in the room, all I did was sit in the corner. I felt hopeless, and the image I saw before was horrid. It made me concerned, and almost miserable feeling. I started crying, and ended up crying for days on end. I was terrified to be in here. After about two more weeks of this white room, and sleeping on the floor, with no blankets and barley any food… the people who worked here decided to move me to a better room, with a roommate. I was kind of anxious, and yet nervous at the same time. The first two nights with the roommate were quiet. We both didn’t say anything to each other, we didn’t say our names or “get to know each other.” But on the third night, things got very weird. I was lying in my bed, and I was trying to sleep…. But I couldn’t. At around three in the morning, I felt a presence over my body. I didn’t want to open my eyes because of what I saw a few weeks before. I was terrified and I shook in my bed. I decided to open my eyes to think that my mind was playing a game with me, and there was my roommate staring right at my face. I screamed a very loud scream, a scream that I didn’t think was possible to come out of me, and all of sudden she disappeared… almost like a mist. I didn’t see her move or walk or get in her bed. She literately just disappeared. I wanted to get out of this place, it wasn’t normal, I wanted to go home and be with my family. Even if they didn’t care about me, I wanted to be home. After a few moments the doctor came into the room, and asked me what was the matter. I just sat there crying, I looked over in the other bed and there was my roommate perfectly asleep. What had I seen? I had no clue. This experience kept happening over a course of a few days. And I couldn’t explain it, the people who worked at this building thought it was a good idea to move me to a different room. And they put me in a room, which was actually like a hospital room. However, they had my arms, and legs strapped into my bed. I was not aloud to go anywhere, and they had to feed me like a baby. They didn’t trust me moving or doing anything. I felt safer in here and that presence never came back, thank god. One morning, I woke up and I wasn’t in my straps. I had no clue how or what had happened. But I ended up by the window on the floor. When I got up… the window had this saying written in red on it, “I’m the devil and I’m here to do the devil’s work.” I screamed when I read it, even though I read about fifteen times, it was so confusing. After the scream, I jumped in my bed and tried to strap myself back in, so the people didn’t think I did anything wrong. About four people came running in and looked at the window and back at me. “I swear to you, I did not do this.” I kept saying but they did not believe me. They examined my body to look for cuts, but there was nothing. They almost believe me, but then again they thought that I took blood from another patient. The red on the window was blood, but when they did DNA testing it turned out that they couldn’t figure out whose blood it was. The DNA testing didn’t say it was a person. The few days that this happened, nothing went wrong. Everything was okay for a few days, but nothing always stays okay. But again after a few days, I awoke in a strange area; again I have no clue as to how or when I got there. But I was surround by brick walls… I tried to move and look around but something was forcing me back. I shook and shook and found out that I was locked to chains against the wall. I was here for about three days, no food or water. Well, I shouldn’t say no water… there was water dripping from the ceiling and I would drink that. I was exhausted, but I knew the only thing to do was to think positive to stay alive. On the third night, I heard banging and saw flashlights, I heard people yelling my name, “Scarlet! Scarlet!” I used whatever energy I had to scream back. They finally found me, and they got me out of the chains. The chains caused damage to my wrists, but nothing to major. When back in the room, everything went back to normal for about a month. I didn’t do much, and so the people who worked here thought it was okay to let me go. And so the one night before leaving to go back to wherever I would go was when the “devil” came. That night was the worse, most horrific, terrible, scary nights of my life. The so-called “devil” took over my body, I didn’t know what to do or think. It would overcome my thoughts, and movements. I screamed out things that I didn’t know, but it wasn’t even me. It was the devil inside of me. He screamed how god couldn’t take him, and that the devil would overcome him. That night all I remember seeing was blurry images of the priest, and the cross. I didn’t hear anything else but the devils voice coming out of my mouth. My head shook back and forth faster then ever could imagined. When I awoke the next morning, I was found on the floor in a weird position that isn’t possible unless you have no bones. I could not move, I couldn’t talk, and nothing would function correctly. After a few hours of lying in the spot that I was stuck in, someone came in. It was the priest from the night before, and he tried to tell me everything that had happened. And he told me that the devil was gone, I was filled with happiness and relief at that moment, but its not like he could tell. I couldn’t do anything.

And so, the doctors treated me with medication for about three months and I finally came back to recovery. I was finally okay, and nothing was wrong with me anymore. I’ve never experienced anything with the “devil” again, but honestly… I would not was to jinx that. I didn’t do anything for a few years; I was stuck in foster care until about eighteen. And when I got out, I went and bought an apartment with money that I’ve raised. I went back to school, and then went to college for paranormal investigations. And now I live in a house, with my boyfriend who I met in college. Being thirteen… well, might not of been the best thing in my life at all. And it was an experience I’ll never forget, never regret, or anything. Even though no one believes your story when you tell it, at least you know its real.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback