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The Possession - NAP



The possession

My dad was a minister, we lived in a small town. The one day he asked me if I believed in possession. No chance, was my answer, I didn’t believe in a god, never mind demons and devils. They're a state of mind, a medical condition, I believed that with all my heart. 


Later that day he asked if I'd accompany an exorcism as a witness. The more witnesses the better the outcome for the one exercising the demon, if the possessed one dies. Our main objective was to just watch and tell anyone that needed to know that it was a true possession and no foul play was included. A doctor must also be present, the doctor to watch the possessed one, make sure his/her stats are OK, and be there if help is needed. As well as to witness. Now what I didn't know was that what we was doing was not approved by the vatican. We had a minister, a priest, myself and a doctor. I was told that we leave in the morning, it’s a few hour drive and to get some rest because I needed to be alert. 


It was 1am when I awoke to a loud thumping on my door.


“Wake up!” My dad shouted, rattling the door handle. My eyes snap open, I stand up instantly, wobbling a bit from my fast movement. 

Running to my bedroom door I grabbed my jacket and pulled it on top of my clothes which I had fell asleep in. I unlocked the door, my dad bouncing on the balls of his feet with anticipation. He puts his hand on my shoulder leading me out the front door.

“We need to go, he won’t make through the night.” He told me, tripping over his words in haste.


The car journey was quiet, my dad focused on the road ahead, muttering much too quick for me to understand, to the priest sat by his side. The doctor sat next to me in the back, his finger drawing the same pattern on his knee for the last hour. I stared out the window at the black sky, stars spotted around, the moon’s glow lit up the browning fields. The simple beauty of the night’s sky, the mystery. The wind blowing gently through the half opened window, the light radiated from the car’s headlights carving a clear path into the empty country road ahead. Nothing from the journey indicated to what was about to happen, nothing could prepare me for what I was about to witness.


It was quarter to three when my dad spoke for the first time to the doctor and myself. Passing a flask of coffee around.


“We’ll be there in 30 minutes. I’m going to need you both to listen very carefully at what I’m going to tell you.” He said, his voice clear and loud. “Do not listen to a word it says. It will lie, it will try to lure you in, it will attack your deepest secrets.” 


The priest shuffled in his seat and turned to look at us. “I’m Father Mark. I will be performing this exorcism alongside John. It’s important you do not reply to it, do not open yourself up. We do not want it jumping bodies.” He said his face stiff, his eyes wide. His hand resting on a cross which hung down his chest. The priest was young, about 35. A large scar* which covered from his ear to his lip stood out in the dim light. His fingers shook slightly as he turned back to face the window. “Do you both know the lord’s prayer.”


I looked at the doctor, his smiled at me encouragingly. We both nodded muttering “Yes”. Another moment of silence passed, images of what I thought a demon would look like flashing through my mind. The doctor fiddling with a notepad, scribbling down what my dad and the priest had just said.


“You must not change your ideologies on whether you believe this demon exists. Don’t make yourself vulnerable by trying to pray to god when we are exorcising the demon. You are both here as atheists, you need to stick by your so called rational thoughts.” My dad continued on, I had never heard his voice shake when he spoke. “You must not fear, darling. I know it’s scary, but you need to be strong. You need to listen to any instructions we give you, if we say run, you run. If we say pray, you best pray. If we say go, leave us. You do as we tell you.” A tear rolled down his cheek as he spoke, my heart thumped uncomfortably against my ribs.. 


The doctor kept his eyes down writing after that, the priest and my dad talking with intensity. We had just entered a country village when my dad announced that we will arrive in 5 minutes and to follow his lead. The houses were few and far apart, we pulled into a large driveway. The house we were approaching was almost completely dark except for one light on the left hand side, which flickered menacingly at our arrival. The car pulled up about 50 meters from the house, my hands shaking as I climb out the car. My dad rushed around the car to me, pulling me into a tight hug where he placed a gold chain around my neck from which hung a cross. 


“For me, please, wear it for me.” He whispered into my ear and gently kissed my cheek.


I heard the front door to the house open, it crashed noisily against the wall. A gray haired woman came running out, her face streaked with mascara. We picked up pace, a human wall running towards the house, two believers, two non believers. Her body collapsed into my dad’s, her body trembling, tears streaming down her face and voice shaking.


“He’s hurting himself now, a dislocated shoulder, cuts across his wrists.” She said through deep breaths and stifled sobs as we entered the house.


The doctor stiffened his shoulders, his natural instinct to heal this boy was kicking in, he hurried up the staircase, my dad close behind him. I hang back a little, walking up the stairs slowly as I took in my surroundings. I noticed every lightbulb was smashed, glass splintered the floor indicating it had happened recently. The gentle groaning of a dog upstairs, it whimpered and whined, behind me the priest put his hand on my back.


“You don’t have to come in,” he said his light blue eyes blazing into mine. I smiled back, staring back into his.


“I’ll be fine.” I said as I carried on up, his hand did not leave my back as we walked together to the first room on the left. My dad was stood in the left corner, the doctor leaning over a bed. The body of a boy lay motionless across the white sheets, crimson red splattered across the bed. His one arm tied loosely tied up, the doctor holding the other.


“Mom, why are you doing this.” The boy cried as the doctor positioned the boy’s arm ready for relocation. The priest moved closer to me as a low growl which I had thought was a dog before emitted from the boy. My mouth dropped open, my eyes wide.


“Don’t look.” The priest whispered as he pulled me into his side, I put my head against his shoulder.


A loud crack crushed the silence of the room, a high pitched scream came from with boy along with an evil cackle which echoed throughout the room.


“Protecting the girl, priest,” A voice came loud and strong, a menacing voice. “That’s not all you want from her is it.” It continued. It’s laugh carrying through the night, deep and tormenting.


“It’s lies are beginning,” The priest released me walking closer to the boy. “Let’s pray.”

The boy shook, his body ached in an animalistic way, his mouth and eyes wide. The bed bashing violently off the floor. His arm snapping free from the chain that bound him. The lights turn off, and flicker back on. His face right opposite my own, an incredible force pushing into my body. I scream, falling to the floor.
                                                       ***
“Your father died along with a priest, a doctor, and a young boys mother. Now tell me why you did it.” A man in a white shirt glared at me. 

The deep chuckle tormenting me from the inside, I could feel him there.


“What about the boy.” I whisper, images of what happened torturing my mind.


“We haven’t found him.” The man states. My heart sinks.


“I didn’t kill anyone.” I state, my eyes focused on the bright light above my head.


“Your fingerprints were all over the murder weapon girl. If you plead guilty we may be able to spare you the death penalty.”


“But I didn’t do it.” I repeated, the menacing laugh getting louder, I notice, the laugh is coming from me.


***

I write this, with hopes that someday, someone will help solve this. I killed no one, I remember nothing. I don’t know what I believe happened, the boy. The so called demon. The illegal exorcism. I beg that this letter is looked into, realize that whatever did this is still out there. No one will expect it, it’s using the body of a little boy.

My last request? A priest to pray with me, and to have the cross which hung around my neck, with my body when I’m laid to rest. 


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