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I’ve always had….an unusual connection to my cousin. He’s definitely the most interesting person I’ve ever met. Thing is, I never know what’s coming next when he’s around.
Maybe I should start from the beginning. He’s my only male cousin closest to my age. I used to hang with him a lot until I turned eight, or was it nine? I don’t even remember. That was when his parents divorced and he moved to the city with his mother and little brother, who was also my cousin. He’s the middle child, having an older brother and sister as well. At that point, he disappeared from my life.
I went on for the next couple of years without him, almost forgot about him. Then again, he was always in the back of my mind. It was the thought that I did have another cousin. In seventh grade, he dropped back into my life like a mortar explosion.
My mother gets a call from my grandmother. A couple of minutes after the call had ended, she came into my room. She told me that my cousins, whom I’ll call Damon and Bill for privacy sake, were staying at my grandmother’s for the next two weeks. All at once, memories flooded back. Then the familiar feeling crept back into my sub-conscious. I could feel something building, like the events before the climax of a movie. I was right.
Two days later, I ended up at my grandmother’s by chance. I entered without much thought, knowing that he was around. I looked up, and knew it was him. He was torn and battered, but it was Damon. When he turned around, he was also surprised and knew on instinct that it was me. Funny how you can recognize someone you haven’t seen in years.
We caught up on old times, but it was mostly through other people that I learned what he’s been up to in the city. I learned he was a drug user and a felon. Personally, I was not surprised. Nor was I ashamed.
That was not the most interesting part though.
One night at a different cousin’s house, I was laying on the floor, trying to rest. Damon was a few feet away. He started talking. He asked me if I knew the stories about him, and the stuff that his mom had seen.
I told him no, and asked him what he meant. This was how the conversation turned out, and I’ve edited for content:
Me: What stories?
Damon: Well, my mom said that when I was a baby she had once seen a black figure standing over my crib. She screamed and it disappeared. She thought it was demonic.
Me: Really? What else has happened?
Damon: People think I’m possessed. Hell, even I think I’m possessed. I’m so confused.
Me: Why don’t you start from the beginning? Tell me the first time you saw something, “out of the ordinary”.
Damon: That probably would’ve been when I was around five. I would see things that always disappeared when I tried to look closer.
Me: Have you had dreams? Sometimes they can be affected as well.
Damon: Now that you mention it, I have. There was this one dream I had where this thing that looked like a demon or something came and talked to me. I asked it if it was Satan.
Me: And how did it respond?
Damon: You may think I’m kidding you, but it said that it was not Satan. It was STRONGER than Satan, if that’s even possible.
Me: Have you dreamed about it more than once?
Damon: Yeah, it even told me its name. I can’t remember it though.
Me: Okay, have you ever spoken to priest or someone about this?
Damon: Yeah, and they’ve all said the same thing, “You’re destined to do great things and Satan is trying to lead you astray.”
(Around this time, I felt a change in the air. It was if the air was compressing. My breathing became ragged, as if I had just run a mile.)
Me: Do you believe that?
Damon: Man I don’t know. I have no friends, no money, and a former druggie. It sure seems like I have nothing going for me.
Me: Hmmm. Have your “demons” ever spoken to you outside of dreams?
Damon: Yeah. I sometimes hear their voices. I can hear them now. They’re telling me to get away from you.
Me: Will you?
Damon: *Laughs* I don’t think so. We should get some sleep, before our cousins get angry.
I hung with him more after that. I did some research on his dreams, and found some unsettling information. In some supposed “non-canonical” Bible entries, it does speak of a being that is stronger than Satan.
He had had one more dream. In it he was in a panicking town. This old lady came up to him and said to flee. He asked why, and she replied saying that it’s Lucifer’s Day. Damon looked up and saw the moon, broken in half. And then it was over.
I just stared as Damon finished his story. He asked me who Lucifer was. I told him that Lucifer was another name for Satan. He did not know that Lucifer was also Satan. This shook him to the core.
After that, he disappeared off the map, again. I wish I was joking, but that’s exactly what he did. One day he was there, the next he was gone. I had once asked my older cousin about him. He replied and I quote, “**** em.”
I later found out. He was caught smoking crack again. From then until about a year later, Damon was out of my life again.
Life was set back to its normal course, if you could call my life normal. I grew older, made new friends, and then he plopped back down again. After this, he hasn’t disappeared again, yet at least.
I put my trust into my friend, whom I’ll call Jared, by telling him about him and looking for advice. My friend once contemplated suicide and knew pain, so I hoped he would know something. In order to do this, I introduced Jared to Damon.
They kicked it off easily. It might’ve been because Jared was a lot like me. Unfortunately, Jared couldn’t tell me much more than I already knew.
My second conversation with Damon was rather emotional, so I’ll simply put the bare bones of it. Damon’s demons were powerful, and made him think I had an afro and was black. You could tell me all you want about the effects of drugs, but I could see in his eyes that he was not under the influence at the time. Like last time, I felt a pressure, like something didn’t want me to help him. I decided to talk to Damon’s demons. I told them what I thought of them, and even threw in a few Bible verses. Damon said they were laughing. I didn’t care. Around that same time, Damon saw my dog and nearly screamed. He later told me that for a moment, my little Chihuahua was not a Chihuahua. I didn’t want to know what he had seen.
Currently, my cousin is attending high school in order to make up for his lost years. I’m doing my best to help him, but I don’t know if it’ll ever be enough. I think his little brother Bill is a great influence in his life, even if he doesn’t see him very often. I’ve been told numerous times that he looks like me, and I can’t deny it. He’s even smart, philosophical, and has a straight head on his shoulders like me. I’m surprised that he, who is the youngest of a line of drug users and dealers, has vowed to never do that stuff. I’m proud of him for standing above the crowd. I hope he can pass that on to his big brother.