Stuck On This Side Of Deathby grey maneChaptersHouse Built On A Cemetery Waiting For The Ones They LoveThe Pains in Life, The Torment in DeathHouse Built On A Cemetery House Built On A Cemetery "Why should I fear Death? If I am, Death is not. If Death is, I am not. Why should I fear that which can only exist when I do not?" - Epicurus I still remember it like it was yesterday; how I followed him or it, not sure what it was, from my room into the living room. And how it vanished once it stepped into the light...but I'm getting ahead of my self right now. Lets start back at the beginning of this story, back at that place I once called home. The year was 1996 and I was living on 66th street near Peoria in the city of Tulsa, Oklahomare; funny the name of our city means Old Town in the old Creek language. Sorry getting off topic, fall was just starting to set in and for several years my neighborhood was rather normal; or as normal as it could get when three houses down from us was a drug dealer, and if that didn't make things seem bad the cops where no better. More times than not I had seen them buy drugs from this guy to either plant them on people for an easy arrest; or just simply to have fun on the weekends, at times the older ponies that lived in my neighborhood would often yell at them about how they should do their jobs right. At the time I didn't think too much about it nor did I have any real clue as to what was going on, I was no older than six at the time; my birthday had passed just a two months prior. In my home at the time lived eight ponies my grandparents, mother, uncle, and three brothers along side my self; things where tough for us even then, but we pulled together even through the worst of it. Grandma worked as a house keeper for a couple of lawyers, grandpa was a retired army vet from Vietnam (and by far the most feared black stallion in the neighborhood, not even the drug dealer; or dirty cops would mess with him), uncle was a manager at Homeland at the time; and mom worked for the state part time as a social worker. As the season grew colder I was ecstatic for what came at the end of the month; my favorite holiday Nightmare Night. I had only seen pictures from the years before and this year I wanted to be a Pirate and go 'Arrg' as I asked for candy. My grandmother misheard me the first time and asked in her broken english, "What is a Pie Rat?" I should have also mentioned that she had jumped the border from Mareico with my mother, uncle, and aunt when my mother was just 6; and with the help of my grandfather, and none of them would be legal citizens till I was around thirteen or so. As the weeks past I grew more and more excited for Nightmare Night as my grandmother continued to make our costumes for us, I was so excited I could barely contain my self even in school. Each day I would watch the clock and count the hours, though I had no real idea how to tell time; for some strange reason it made me feel more anxious even when I didn't look at the clock. As the day finally came I was unable to stand still as my mother helped me put on my costume, she even had to threaten me to stand still or we wouldn't go out to trick-or-treat. I still look back on those days and laugh, as I came walking into the room shouting 'arrg' my uncle followed in behind me dressed as a pirate as well; his reaction was one of us would have to change costumes, I was tolled I wouldn't stop crying for half an hour but that bit of memory is a tad fuzzy to me. *Cough* *Cough* I enjoyed that evening so much the family split up into two groups and I went with my uncle, and though I didn't know it then he would be one of the biggest stallion role models in my life; mostly because my parents where divorced at the time and my father is a useless sack o... ...sorry I'm getting off track. I remember coming home with a bag full of candy and loved it, but my uncle said something about keeping his mareish figure and gave me half his pillow sack of candy; and split the rest up with everyone else later. Once we got home my mother took all of the candy to start inspecting it for anything wrong, at the time she was one of those parents that believed just about anything that was on the news; well that and if she didn't and some one at the DPS (Department of Pony Services) office found out it could have looked bad on her, funny that place can't seem to catch a break now a days anyway (your taxes at work everypony). The home we lived in was a decent size though I thought it was huge at the time, it was a three bedroom two bath home that was painted a dark green, (and not some emerald green or fancy dark green just strait dark green, I thought it was great) though I always wondered why it was at night I feared this house; and only from the outside as if it could harm me. That night I was so exhausted from the fun I fell right to sleep after my bath, even after fighting everyone saying I wasn't tired yet; I even remember hugging my pillow as my mother tucked me in while saying I could stay up all night. I remember my grandmother coming in to hum to me and my brothers to help us fall asleep, I slept on the top bunk above my older brother as he liked being closer to the ground back then. My other brothers had beds that laid parallel to each other with toys that littered the floor between them, I even look back to hear all of us arguing over who's toys belonged to whom; it often ended with the toys either being taken away or my younger brother breaking them as he said no one could have them now. It wasn't till late that evening I was woken up by somepony or something shaking me awake calling my name, I didn't know who or what it was at the time nor did I ever find out. All I could remember of it was its body was slim and shown no signs of muscle or fat, I asked how it knew my name only for it to tell me that it didn't matter and we had to make our way to the kitchen. Looking down at the figure I asked why it came to me only for it to say it didn't matter only that it had somepony, "Then why don't you wake up my older brother he's right under me." "I would if I could but he's like a rock and won't get up. I tried everyone in here and none of them would get up, you're the only one." I questioned how it managed to wake me up as I had been tolled that even at that age a bomb could go off next to me and I would sleep through it. But then again if a bomb went off next to me I wouldn't be waking up either way, I know its a coined phrase but still I felt like saying it. As it reached up to touch me I could feel its hoof was soft, softer than anything I had ever felt before and yet at the same time it felt like something was off about it; what I couldn't tell. Climbing down I followed it into the hallway but stopped at the door frame to look at the door to my uncle's room on my left, "Come on everypony is fast asleep, no pony is going to wake up I already checked." I didn't know If I should trust this thing but my curiosity got the better of me as I followed it down the hall, as we walked we came past the floor furnace I looked down at it to try and spot the pilot light; once I saw it I knew where to start walking round it. As we came to the living room I saw my oldest cousin who had a spare key and snuck into the house some time after we all fell asleep, 'We can't go any further, if he wakes up we will be in big trouble. He just mite tell grandpa.' I whispered hoping not to wake him, at the time he was a quarter back in college who doubled as a line backer; and more times than I cared to count he was fun to play with but was not fun to be around when he didn't get much sleep. As it walked into the living room it went up to my cousin and slapped him on the chest, I watched as he twitched for a second then continued snoring. 'See what did I tell ya, like a rock. I find it odd that he sleeps with his shoes on though, what does he think something is going to drag him away by his hooves?' At the time I didn't know the answer to that but I found out a few years later that our grandmother had placed a never ending fear of demons who would drag him to Tartaros if they got a hold of his bare hooves, even to this day he sleeps with socks on and even tucks the covers under his hooves. I recommend if you ever meet him don't mess around with him on this subject he believes it to be true even if you show him some kind of proof that says other wise. Walking through the living room I saw the light from where my grandmother had her sowing machine, though it wasn't worth much in cash value to her it was the world; she has it even to this day and not once has it ever broken down, they sure as Tartaros don't make them like that anymore. As it started to walk into the light I watched as it started to disappear, as its body completely vanished I heard it let out the worst blood curtailing laugh I had ever heard causing me to stand frozen in fear for a few minutes. As the fear shot through my body I could feel my mind shouting to my body to turn around and run, but my body could not move even though it wished too. As its laughter came to a short end I could feel my body react as it turned and ran back to my bed, I even found my self jumping into bed to cover my self up; not sure if I had actually jumped into bed or if I was so fear stricken I couldn't recall climbing into bed. As I lay there under the covers I could hear that thing calling out my name, "Where did you go, I thought you wanted to go to the kitchen with me?" Peeking out from under the covers I watched as it slowly turned the corner into my room and I saw its eyes for the first time, they where so crimson in color I had though its eyes where made of blood. Laying there I waited for it to leave only to hear it calling my name constantly, I don't recall how long I stayed awake in fear or if I just passed out from fear. All I know is that I couldn't go back to sleep so long as I could feel and hear that thing was still there calling for me. What I do remember is the following morning when I asked my grandpa if he knew anything about the land, "Oh ya I know quite a bit, there used to be a Cemetery right here where this house is." I didn't want to believe him but after what I had encountered that night I couldn't help but take his words as truth. And though I wouldn't know it for several years, that one encounter would spark my never ending interest into the world of the paranormal and the supernatural. Waiting For The Ones They Love“If I die, I will wait for you, do you understand? No matter how long. I will watch from beyond to make sure you live every year you have to its fullest, and then we’ll have so much to talk about when I see you again… (Bones)” ― Jeaniene Frost It had been several years since I had seen the darkened figure with the crimson eyes; but I never forgot and often tried not to think about it out of fear that it would come back. Over the years I had taken the time to dig up what information into the supernatural I could get my hands on, but my family believed that such searching would draw evil to our door step so I kept it to a minimum for the time being. As the years progressed my mother had taken a house keeping job as a part time worker for an elderly mare (I will not use her name out of respect for the departed), when I first met her she was well into her 90's. She enjoyed having me and my brothers around as it gave her a feeling of what could have been, I had been tolled that though she was married at one point in time she never had any foals; as to why the only answer I was given was both her and her husband worked too much, and when they did finally have the chance it was too late. As the years progressed she would allow me or my brothers to stay the night at the request of either my mother or Great Grandmother (she came from my father's side of the family and one of the more influential people in my life), this was allowed because several years prior somepony tried to break into her home only for the alarm to go off; since then none of them felt safe with out somepony else there with them. Though I wasn't sure what a young colt could do against a full grown intruder it was still nice to get to spend time with the elderly mare; and help out my mother and Great Grandmother with anything I could as an eight year old. Over time there where moments where I found my self in her home with no one around; these times came from when my mother had to take the elderly mare off for her doctors appointment, and though my Great Grandmother stayed behind with me she was often busy working on something I was unable to help her with. In these moments I would try to find ways to entertain my self and for most eight year old colts what better way than to explore; there wasn't much of the house I didn't know but I still enjoyed doing it, roaming around hoping to find something new always brought a smile to my face. And though I had done this countless times for some strange reason it felt different each time, the only thing that bugged me this time around was I had seen several things my Mother had moved when she was cleaning; at the time she had placed a few small items in the wrong location but no one noticed or cared, but as I walked into the room I saw that many of these items had moved back to where they where before she had cleaned. The remote to the television had been left on the bed but I found it next to the television its self, the letter opener in the office had been left on the book shelf only for me to find it on the desk. At first I had thought my Great Grandmother was the one who had moved them but last I saw she was working in the kitchen and this was done just before I entered the rooms, my next guess was my mother had put them back before she left; however she left with the elderly mare in a hurry hoping they where not too late for the appointment. As a young colt my mind jumped at the thought for a mystery believing I could discover something somepony else had yet to learn, grabbing the old magnifying glass that belonged to the stallion that once lived there for reading I started looking around; how funny I must have looked then. Looking around each of the unoccupied rooms I could find nothing but had the feeling that somepony was watching me; the first indication I had of this was I often heard hoof steps when I was standing still. I had even heard somepony whispering around a corner or two though I never once saw anypony, taking the time to look around for who this pony was I found nothing to suggest anypony had been there in the first place; I had thought it was my Great Grandmother having a little fun with me but I had just heard her start doing the dishes only a moment ago. Though I wanted to continue to play around and solve the mystery I set the magnifying glass down on one of the beds in one of the back rooms, walking into the kitchen I asked my Great Grandmother if she wanted my help with the dishes; she smiled as she thanked me while opening the dishwasher. The machine was as nearly as old as the house so we gave the dishes a quick rinse before putting them in the washer, as we worked together she asked me what I had been up to. Telling her about the fun I had she smiled to hear what I had saw and done; but when I tolled her about what I had heard she chuckled a little as she patted me on the head. Looking up to her I asked why she did that, "Oh because I know who did all of that and who was following you around." As I put the last dish into the washer I turned to watch her walk away, "Was it you Granny? It was you, wasn't it? You're the only other pony here besides me." Taking me back into the office she walked over to the desk and asked if anything seemed odd to me, looking at the old oak wood desk nothing seemed out of place; till I saw the magnifying glass. Picking it up I was stunned to see it in the office when I remembered setting it down else where, "About sixty years ago the owner of this house married the old mare your mother and I work for; and about twenty years ago he died of a heart attack right out side on the main back steps. I had been working for them for about five years by that time and one thing he swore up and down was that when he died he would wait here on earth till she passed before ever going on to face his judgement." Putting down the magnifying glass I started to feel a cold touch going down my spine, "He was always one for keeping things proper here and didn't like things to be out of place for very long, even when we had to clean." At the time I didn't want to believe what I was tolled and often tried to pass the things I heard in the house to the place being as old as it was, a few years later the elderly mare passed from this world and had left everything to the decedents of her relatives that included the house. And though no pony came to claim it we where allowed to live in it till somepony said other wise, and for five years the ones who lived there was my Mother, Great Grandmother, and my brothers. I had often tolled them of the things I experienced hoping that they may have noticed the same things, but this was the start of them calling me crazy and saying it was just my imagination; and for a time I thought they where right. After three years of living there I was awaken in the middle of the night having heard a loud bang, looking out of my room I saw no pony was awake; rubbing my eyes I felt thirsty and started to get up out of bed. I was soon stopped by having seen some movement out of the corner of my eye, seeing a dim light shine into my room from outside I thought it was nothing. Navigating the house in the dark was nothing for any of us as we knew it like the back of our hooves, once in the kitchen I got my self some water only to catch a shadow moving away from me just barely out of sight; I called out to my older brother telling him to stop messing around. Making my way back to bed I stubbed my hoof into the corners of door frames; and often found my self trying to just lay down on the hallway floor. Once I was back in my room I called my older brother a jerk for trying to scare me as he lied in the bed in the corner, as I started to lay down I thought about how the light from outside was going to keep me up for a while; till I saw a the silhouette of a stallion pass right before my eyes in full view of the window then vanishing. Having been scared awake I lied down and stared a the ceiling as I thought to my self, 'Its all in my head right? It has to be, no other explanation than that.' Hoping that my thoughts would soon calm me down I started to recall what my Great Grandmother had said a few years ago, go figure from a house on an old cemetery to a home where some pony had died on the property; I'm starting to see a pattern for my life as of right now I live a quarter mile from a cemetery, though as of right now nothing has happened... ...yet. The Pains in Life, The Torment in Death*Sigh* Out of any chapter that I will write for this, this one is by far the hardest because of what happened. What had taken place has forever affected me and has been the single strongest factor in my life, there isn't a single choice or decision I have not made thus far that this has not had some weight to alter them. But for any of you reading this I feel I must say this here and now, very few of my friends know about this because I never talk about it unless its dragged out of me. And what I have shared with them is only bits and pieces because I wasn't too sure if they would understand, I barely understand it my self even to this day and I've had my whole life to think on it. But I have to thank one of my friends here on this site for getting me to mention this, LyraAlluse thanks for saying something even if it wasn't much. So that any of you get a better idea of what happened I'll go back a short time before it started, and just so any of you know it hasn't ended and I fear that it only gets worse by how much and how often I don't know. It was the end of summer in 2001 school had just started and it was my first year in middle school, sixth grade and I was ecstatic to see what the new year had in store for me. I was shy and kept to my self mostly because I was still getting over a death in the family, my great grandfather had past that year and it pained me to no end. He was one of the greatest father figures I had ever known or ever will know, when he died I felt a piece of my self go and hadn't been the same. When he was alive I was outspoken and eager to make friends and meet new people, though I still was at the time the part of me that was outspoken quietly left with him. But I did what I could to brush it off and greet my new venture with a smile, a smile that would soon be replaced with a frown. The friends I had in the years before soon forsaken me for their new friends. and only had a little interaction with me only to make themselves seem cooler in the eyes of their new friends. To do this they aided in bullying me along side those that where already doing it. I had been singled out because of how I looked, I was short, pudgy, and easily pushed around. I greeted every hoof up I got with a smile and a thank you only to be knocked back down by the ones who helped me up, and even by those I once called friends found some amusement to do this. I joined the foot ball team in hopes some of it would stop and I could find some comradery among my teammates, sadly I was wrong even there I was bullied and kicked around. The only difference was it was called toughing up, but slap a bit of paint on a piece of shit and it's still a piece of shit. Things only escalated as the season went on but still I did what I could to hold my own, the one person I could go to for help was my older brother and even he forsaken me. He would often turn a blind eye to what was going on, and when he did pay attention all I would get out of him was a speech. "If they hit you then hit them back. If they make fun of you then make fun of them back. I don't want to hear about your problems they have nothing to do with me. What did you think the world was going to be so easy that you smile and everyone would be your friend, congrats you've learned that's not how it works. Why don't you just grow a pair and do something about it your self?" Our great grandfather had instilled in us that we should stick together as one, simply because we are family and that is what family does for one another. Over the years I tried to hold on to that belief even to this day, but even I have come to question it no matter how close to me it is. For several weeks as the leaves began to change things only got worse for me as I started to seclude my self to locations in the class rooms and through out the school that I could be alone, I found solace in these locations for what little time I could be in them knowing that soon I would be in the crowds again and victim to what would soon come. As fall break came around I felt glad to know I wouldn't have to put up with any of the crap from school and I could lick my wounds, but sadly fate had other plans for me and my family. For the past few years my grandfather on my mother's side had cancer in his left leg, they had cut off the leg at his shoulder in the hopes to remove it but in the process they missed a piece. It soon spread and strangled him to death that year and his funeral was held the day before Thanksgiving, funny how that worked out we gathered the next day but I questioned what was there to give thanks. Another family member dead before my eyes and the torment that waited me at school, what was the point, WHAT WAS THE REASON, IF ANY POINT OR REASON COULD BE MADE THEN WHAT WAS IT AND WHY!? The one thing that I hoped for was some kind of reprieve from it all, if anything at the least that this remained in the family so I could keep it apart from everything else. But as I said fate had other plans for me, the morning we returned to school my younger brothers had asked to stay home unable to contain their cries. She had granted them this and offered me and my older brother the same option, we chose to tough it out and go to school, when we got there I soon learned that the school was informed about the recent death in our family and asked that our teachers keep an eye on us just to be on the safe side. My first teacher of the day stood up and started off by giving her condolences, when I tried to play it off she claimed I was simply in denial and asked if me and my grandfather where close. Word soon spread like wild fire and my bullies came at me to no end and focused heavily on my grandfather's passing, my mind slowly started to sink and spiral as I pondered why would people stoop so low to use such a thing against me? I never truly learned the answer though I have gained some understanding to it and even still question it, there's no point in dragging the departed into issues like this or any other for that matter. The dead have earned their peace so let them have it, *hmph* its funny I say that, what peace is there to be had in this world or the next? The only bit of recovery I could find was in the music class I chose to take, I was playing the viola and enjoyed it... though looking back I should have gone bass I've had the hooves for it all my life. I played to regather what little pieces of my mind I could and keep together what little had yet to shatter, but most of all I enjoyed being in the same class as the one girl I had a crush on. Ya my bad should have mentioned that sooner, she was a golden brunette with what I could guess at the time was a burned amber eyes. I fell for her the first day I saw her but felt it was best to keep my distance simply because I didn't want to drag her into my problems, it didn't take long before a small group of my bullies learned about my feelings for her and found a way to drag her into the mix. At the start of it a small group of my bullies came to me acting like they wanted to be my friends, I was desperate for even a single friend I had even forgotten what it was like to even have one so I gladly accepted them and welcomed them in. I was a fool then too damn young, stupid, and desperate to not be able to see such a trick coming, for weeks they acted like my friends, they sat with me, talked with me, in time I thought it was real and they meant well. How blind I was that I didn't notice the signs that each little moment was for them to learn something new about me to use later, they soon got personal and learned about the girl I had a crush on. They soon fed me lies they came up with and told me how much she liked me and how she couldn't stop thinking about me, there where times when I could see it in her eyes that she wanted to tell me alone that it was all a lie. And even then a small part of me that new the truth wanted to tell her I knew, but how could I trust that part of me when I was wanting to take in the falsehood that made me happy? Then on the first day of spring with out warning she stood up in the middle of the music class and shouted, "I don't care for you, I hate you. I could care less if you ended up dead hanging in the gym from one of the rafters!" It was then what little of my self I managed to keep together shattered beyond repair and things got far more worse than I could imagine, my bullies where relentless and had so much new information from my so-called friends to use against me as they pleased. I sank so far down into a pit with in my self that even in my sleep they where there tormenting me, but even then I wanted to stand tall against it knowing that I was alone in the fight. As things got worse the more of a loner I became that my family thought it was a phase I was going through and would soon come out of, I soon turned to the occult and religion to hopefully find some kind of an answer something I could hold on to and use as a means to come back to my old self. I was painstakingly wrong every answer I got was the same, turn the other cheek, tough it out and be rewarded in the end, through pain comes enlightenment, what did any of this mean I often asked wanting to know why I was pointed towards them. I could find no answer and as the weeks progressed things continued to get worse, then one night when I was alone at home I could feel a skeletal grip on my head. Nothing was there but I could feel it and with this grasp came a voice, "It would be so much easier to just end it all myself. The knives in the kitchen are sharp enough, and all it would take is one quick slice across my wrist." Walking towards the kitchen I could feel these words as though they where my own, "No one would care if I left this world, hell things would just get easier any way." Once in the kitchen I pulled out the sharpest knife believing these thoughts where my own, "One simple little cut and it will all be over." Pressing the edge of the knife to my wrist I soon questioned who's thoughts this belonged to, I knew they where not mine as the thoughts them selves felt heavier to me. Pulling the blade away I soon pressed it back down as the thoughts rang through my head telling me it was the right thing to do, I wanted to ignore these thoughts and stop what I was doing but it felt right as if it was true. Pressing a little harder I slowly started to drag the blade only to stop as I felt two hooves on my shoulders, on the left was a bony yet firm grip, on the right was a husky yet rough grip. I knew these hooves they belonged to my grandfather and great grandfather, though I heard nothing I could feel they where slightly ashamed of me. One thing they had often taught us was suicide was never the answer to anything, to them it was the greatest insult to what they where and had done. It was cowardly, meaningless, held no value, and most of all had the greatest consequence and you can never take it back. Looking at my self I dropped the knife as I fell to my knees crying, I wanted them to tell me what to do I wanted their guidance now more than ever. Through their touch I could feel they wanted to help but knew they couldn't, it was my life and if I wanted it to mean anything I had to fight as they once did. Things never got easier for me not in the least, I transferred schools in eighth grade to start over and to get a second chance. Though on paper I was labeled a problem child with anger management issues, but I guess that's what they will call you when they don't want to help solve a bullying problem and you have to solve it your self. I don't condone violence not for any reason, but I don't believe you should let yourself be walked over either. I do think that if others will not help you and you've exhausted every option out there then do what you feel is natural, with the exception of killing your self. Though things haven't gotten easier for me I know the game is still the same, the only difference is what it's called now and the stakes that are set for the actions I make and choices I must make. I haven't felt my grandfathers since that day but I know they still care, I just wish this damn skeletal hoof would let go of me and let me live my life. I know it won't and the thoughts grow with each passing day and have become a little more cleaver in how they hit me, but I will never cross the line I can't come back from no matter what comes at me. I'll fight till the day I hear the bells Death has waiting to ring for me, and I'll go when I see the light of Death's lantern to guide me to where ever I will call my final destination. Till then what ever this damn thing is that has its grip on me, be it demon, tormented spirit, or my own dark nature I say this, "Please take a cactus out back so you can play hide-n-go-fuck yourself." Author's Note Before any of you can ask yes I did cry a few times while writing this, and no it never gets any easier.
House Built On A Cemetery House Built On A Cemetery "Why should I fear Death? If I am, Death is not. If Death is, I am not. Why should I fear that which can only exist when I do not?" - Epicurus I still remember it like it was yesterday; how I followed him or it, not sure what it was, from my room into the living room. And how it vanished once it stepped into the light...but I'm getting ahead of my self right now. Lets start back at the beginning of this story, back at that place I once called home. The year was 1996 and I was living on 66th street near Peoria in the city of Tulsa, Oklahomare; funny the name of our city means Old Town in the old Creek language. Sorry getting off topic, fall was just starting to set in and for several years my neighborhood was rather normal; or as normal as it could get when three houses down from us was a drug dealer, and if that didn't make things seem bad the cops where no better. More times than not I had seen them buy drugs from this guy to either plant them on people for an easy arrest; or just simply to have fun on the weekends, at times the older ponies that lived in my neighborhood would often yell at them about how they should do their jobs right. At the time I didn't think too much about it nor did I have any real clue as to what was going on, I was no older than six at the time; my birthday had passed just a two months prior. In my home at the time lived eight ponies my grandparents, mother, uncle, and three brothers along side my self; things where tough for us even then, but we pulled together even through the worst of it. Grandma worked as a house keeper for a couple of lawyers, grandpa was a retired army vet from Vietnam (and by far the most feared black stallion in the neighborhood, not even the drug dealer; or dirty cops would mess with him), uncle was a manager at Homeland at the time; and mom worked for the state part time as a social worker. As the season grew colder I was ecstatic for what came at the end of the month; my favorite holiday Nightmare Night. I had only seen pictures from the years before and this year I wanted to be a Pirate and go 'Arrg' as I asked for candy. My grandmother misheard me the first time and asked in her broken english, "What is a Pie Rat?" I should have also mentioned that she had jumped the border from Mareico with my mother, uncle, and aunt when my mother was just 6; and with the help of my grandfather, and none of them would be legal citizens till I was around thirteen or so. As the weeks past I grew more and more excited for Nightmare Night as my grandmother continued to make our costumes for us, I was so excited I could barely contain my self even in school. Each day I would watch the clock and count the hours, though I had no real idea how to tell time; for some strange reason it made me feel more anxious even when I didn't look at the clock. As the day finally came I was unable to stand still as my mother helped me put on my costume, she even had to threaten me to stand still or we wouldn't go out to trick-or-treat. I still look back on those days and laugh, as I came walking into the room shouting 'arrg' my uncle followed in behind me dressed as a pirate as well; his reaction was one of us would have to change costumes, I was tolled I wouldn't stop crying for half an hour but that bit of memory is a tad fuzzy to me. *Cough* *Cough* I enjoyed that evening so much the family split up into two groups and I went with my uncle, and though I didn't know it then he would be one of the biggest stallion role models in my life; mostly because my parents where divorced at the time and my father is a useless sack o... ...sorry I'm getting off track. I remember coming home with a bag full of candy and loved it, but my uncle said something about keeping his mareish figure and gave me half his pillow sack of candy; and split the rest up with everyone else later. Once we got home my mother took all of the candy to start inspecting it for anything wrong, at the time she was one of those parents that believed just about anything that was on the news; well that and if she didn't and some one at the DPS (Department of Pony Services) office found out it could have looked bad on her, funny that place can't seem to catch a break now a days anyway (your taxes at work everypony). The home we lived in was a decent size though I thought it was huge at the time, it was a three bedroom two bath home that was painted a dark green, (and not some emerald green or fancy dark green just strait dark green, I thought it was great) though I always wondered why it was at night I feared this house; and only from the outside as if it could harm me. That night I was so exhausted from the fun I fell right to sleep after my bath, even after fighting everyone saying I wasn't tired yet; I even remember hugging my pillow as my mother tucked me in while saying I could stay up all night. I remember my grandmother coming in to hum to me and my brothers to help us fall asleep, I slept on the top bunk above my older brother as he liked being closer to the ground back then. My other brothers had beds that laid parallel to each other with toys that littered the floor between them, I even look back to hear all of us arguing over who's toys belonged to whom; it often ended with the toys either being taken away or my younger brother breaking them as he said no one could have them now. It wasn't till late that evening I was woken up by somepony or something shaking me awake calling my name, I didn't know who or what it was at the time nor did I ever find out. All I could remember of it was its body was slim and shown no signs of muscle or fat, I asked how it knew my name only for it to tell me that it didn't matter and we had to make our way to the kitchen. Looking down at the figure I asked why it came to me only for it to say it didn't matter only that it had somepony, "Then why don't you wake up my older brother he's right under me." "I would if I could but he's like a rock and won't get up. I tried everyone in here and none of them would get up, you're the only one." I questioned how it managed to wake me up as I had been tolled that even at that age a bomb could go off next to me and I would sleep through it. But then again if a bomb went off next to me I wouldn't be waking up either way, I know its a coined phrase but still I felt like saying it. As it reached up to touch me I could feel its hoof was soft, softer than anything I had ever felt before and yet at the same time it felt like something was off about it; what I couldn't tell. Climbing down I followed it into the hallway but stopped at the door frame to look at the door to my uncle's room on my left, "Come on everypony is fast asleep, no pony is going to wake up I already checked." I didn't know If I should trust this thing but my curiosity got the better of me as I followed it down the hall, as we walked we came past the floor furnace I looked down at it to try and spot the pilot light; once I saw it I knew where to start walking round it. As we came to the living room I saw my oldest cousin who had a spare key and snuck into the house some time after we all fell asleep, 'We can't go any further, if he wakes up we will be in big trouble. He just mite tell grandpa.' I whispered hoping not to wake him, at the time he was a quarter back in college who doubled as a line backer; and more times than I cared to count he was fun to play with but was not fun to be around when he didn't get much sleep. As it walked into the living room it went up to my cousin and slapped him on the chest, I watched as he twitched for a second then continued snoring. 'See what did I tell ya, like a rock. I find it odd that he sleeps with his shoes on though, what does he think something is going to drag him away by his hooves?' At the time I didn't know the answer to that but I found out a few years later that our grandmother had placed a never ending fear of demons who would drag him to Tartaros if they got a hold of his bare hooves, even to this day he sleeps with socks on and even tucks the covers under his hooves. I recommend if you ever meet him don't mess around with him on this subject he believes it to be true even if you show him some kind of proof that says other wise. Walking through the living room I saw the light from where my grandmother had her sowing machine, though it wasn't worth much in cash value to her it was the world; she has it even to this day and not once has it ever broken down, they sure as Tartaros don't make them like that anymore. As it started to walk into the light I watched as it started to disappear, as its body completely vanished I heard it let out the worst blood curtailing laugh I had ever heard causing me to stand frozen in fear for a few minutes. As the fear shot through my body I could feel my mind shouting to my body to turn around and run, but my body could not move even though it wished too. As its laughter came to a short end I could feel my body react as it turned and ran back to my bed, I even found my self jumping into bed to cover my self up; not sure if I had actually jumped into bed or if I was so fear stricken I couldn't recall climbing into bed. As I lay there under the covers I could hear that thing calling out my name, "Where did you go, I thought you wanted to go to the kitchen with me?" Peeking out from under the covers I watched as it slowly turned the corner into my room and I saw its eyes for the first time, they where so crimson in color I had though its eyes where made of blood. Laying there I waited for it to leave only to hear it calling my name constantly, I don't recall how long I stayed awake in fear or if I just passed out from fear. All I know is that I couldn't go back to sleep so long as I could feel and hear that thing was still there calling for me. What I do remember is the following morning when I asked my grandpa if he knew anything about the land, "Oh ya I know quite a bit, there used to be a Cemetery right here where this house is." I didn't want to believe him but after what I had encountered that night I couldn't help but take his words as truth. And though I wouldn't know it for several years, that one encounter would spark my never ending interest into the world of the paranormal and the supernatural.
Waiting For The Ones They Love“If I die, I will wait for you, do you understand? No matter how long. I will watch from beyond to make sure you live every year you have to its fullest, and then we’ll have so much to talk about when I see you again… (Bones)” ― Jeaniene Frost It had been several years since I had seen the darkened figure with the crimson eyes; but I never forgot and often tried not to think about it out of fear that it would come back. Over the years I had taken the time to dig up what information into the supernatural I could get my hands on, but my family believed that such searching would draw evil to our door step so I kept it to a minimum for the time being. As the years progressed my mother had taken a house keeping job as a part time worker for an elderly mare (I will not use her name out of respect for the departed), when I first met her she was well into her 90's. She enjoyed having me and my brothers around as it gave her a feeling of what could have been, I had been tolled that though she was married at one point in time she never had any foals; as to why the only answer I was given was both her and her husband worked too much, and when they did finally have the chance it was too late. As the years progressed she would allow me or my brothers to stay the night at the request of either my mother or Great Grandmother (she came from my father's side of the family and one of the more influential people in my life), this was allowed because several years prior somepony tried to break into her home only for the alarm to go off; since then none of them felt safe with out somepony else there with them. Though I wasn't sure what a young colt could do against a full grown intruder it was still nice to get to spend time with the elderly mare; and help out my mother and Great Grandmother with anything I could as an eight year old. Over time there where moments where I found my self in her home with no one around; these times came from when my mother had to take the elderly mare off for her doctors appointment, and though my Great Grandmother stayed behind with me she was often busy working on something I was unable to help her with. In these moments I would try to find ways to entertain my self and for most eight year old colts what better way than to explore; there wasn't much of the house I didn't know but I still enjoyed doing it, roaming around hoping to find something new always brought a smile to my face. And though I had done this countless times for some strange reason it felt different each time, the only thing that bugged me this time around was I had seen several things my Mother had moved when she was cleaning; at the time she had placed a few small items in the wrong location but no one noticed or cared, but as I walked into the room I saw that many of these items had moved back to where they where before she had cleaned. The remote to the television had been left on the bed but I found it next to the television its self, the letter opener in the office had been left on the book shelf only for me to find it on the desk. At first I had thought my Great Grandmother was the one who had moved them but last I saw she was working in the kitchen and this was done just before I entered the rooms, my next guess was my mother had put them back before she left; however she left with the elderly mare in a hurry hoping they where not too late for the appointment. As a young colt my mind jumped at the thought for a mystery believing I could discover something somepony else had yet to learn, grabbing the old magnifying glass that belonged to the stallion that once lived there for reading I started looking around; how funny I must have looked then. Looking around each of the unoccupied rooms I could find nothing but had the feeling that somepony was watching me; the first indication I had of this was I often heard hoof steps when I was standing still. I had even heard somepony whispering around a corner or two though I never once saw anypony, taking the time to look around for who this pony was I found nothing to suggest anypony had been there in the first place; I had thought it was my Great Grandmother having a little fun with me but I had just heard her start doing the dishes only a moment ago. Though I wanted to continue to play around and solve the mystery I set the magnifying glass down on one of the beds in one of the back rooms, walking into the kitchen I asked my Great Grandmother if she wanted my help with the dishes; she smiled as she thanked me while opening the dishwasher. The machine was as nearly as old as the house so we gave the dishes a quick rinse before putting them in the washer, as we worked together she asked me what I had been up to. Telling her about the fun I had she smiled to hear what I had saw and done; but when I tolled her about what I had heard she chuckled a little as she patted me on the head. Looking up to her I asked why she did that, "Oh because I know who did all of that and who was following you around." As I put the last dish into the washer I turned to watch her walk away, "Was it you Granny? It was you, wasn't it? You're the only other pony here besides me." Taking me back into the office she walked over to the desk and asked if anything seemed odd to me, looking at the old oak wood desk nothing seemed out of place; till I saw the magnifying glass. Picking it up I was stunned to see it in the office when I remembered setting it down else where, "About sixty years ago the owner of this house married the old mare your mother and I work for; and about twenty years ago he died of a heart attack right out side on the main back steps. I had been working for them for about five years by that time and one thing he swore up and down was that when he died he would wait here on earth till she passed before ever going on to face his judgement." Putting down the magnifying glass I started to feel a cold touch going down my spine, "He was always one for keeping things proper here and didn't like things to be out of place for very long, even when we had to clean." At the time I didn't want to believe what I was tolled and often tried to pass the things I heard in the house to the place being as old as it was, a few years later the elderly mare passed from this world and had left everything to the decedents of her relatives that included the house. And though no pony came to claim it we where allowed to live in it till somepony said other wise, and for five years the ones who lived there was my Mother, Great Grandmother, and my brothers. I had often tolled them of the things I experienced hoping that they may have noticed the same things, but this was the start of them calling me crazy and saying it was just my imagination; and for a time I thought they where right. After three years of living there I was awaken in the middle of the night having heard a loud bang, looking out of my room I saw no pony was awake; rubbing my eyes I felt thirsty and started to get up out of bed. I was soon stopped by having seen some movement out of the corner of my eye, seeing a dim light shine into my room from outside I thought it was nothing. Navigating the house in the dark was nothing for any of us as we knew it like the back of our hooves, once in the kitchen I got my self some water only to catch a shadow moving away from me just barely out of sight; I called out to my older brother telling him to stop messing around. Making my way back to bed I stubbed my hoof into the corners of door frames; and often found my self trying to just lay down on the hallway floor. Once I was back in my room I called my older brother a jerk for trying to scare me as he lied in the bed in the corner, as I started to lay down I thought about how the light from outside was going to keep me up for a while; till I saw a the silhouette of a stallion pass right before my eyes in full view of the window then vanishing. Having been scared awake I lied down and stared a the ceiling as I thought to my self, 'Its all in my head right? It has to be, no other explanation than that.' Hoping that my thoughts would soon calm me down I started to recall what my Great Grandmother had said a few years ago, go figure from a house on an old cemetery to a home where some pony had died on the property; I'm starting to see a pattern for my life as of right now I live a quarter mile from a cemetery, though as of right now nothing has happened... ...yet.
The Pains in Life, The Torment in Death*Sigh* Out of any chapter that I will write for this, this one is by far the hardest because of what happened. What had taken place has forever affected me and has been the single strongest factor in my life, there isn't a single choice or decision I have not made thus far that this has not had some weight to alter them. But for any of you reading this I feel I must say this here and now, very few of my friends know about this because I never talk about it unless its dragged out of me. And what I have shared with them is only bits and pieces because I wasn't too sure if they would understand, I barely understand it my self even to this day and I've had my whole life to think on it. But I have to thank one of my friends here on this site for getting me to mention this, LyraAlluse thanks for saying something even if it wasn't much. So that any of you get a better idea of what happened I'll go back a short time before it started, and just so any of you know it hasn't ended and I fear that it only gets worse by how much and how often I don't know. It was the end of summer in 2001 school had just started and it was my first year in middle school, sixth grade and I was ecstatic to see what the new year had in store for me. I was shy and kept to my self mostly because I was still getting over a death in the family, my great grandfather had past that year and it pained me to no end. He was one of the greatest father figures I had ever known or ever will know, when he died I felt a piece of my self go and hadn't been the same. When he was alive I was outspoken and eager to make friends and meet new people, though I still was at the time the part of me that was outspoken quietly left with him. But I did what I could to brush it off and greet my new venture with a smile, a smile that would soon be replaced with a frown. The friends I had in the years before soon forsaken me for their new friends. and only had a little interaction with me only to make themselves seem cooler in the eyes of their new friends. To do this they aided in bullying me along side those that where already doing it. I had been singled out because of how I looked, I was short, pudgy, and easily pushed around. I greeted every hoof up I got with a smile and a thank you only to be knocked back down by the ones who helped me up, and even by those I once called friends found some amusement to do this. I joined the foot ball team in hopes some of it would stop and I could find some comradery among my teammates, sadly I was wrong even there I was bullied and kicked around. The only difference was it was called toughing up, but slap a bit of paint on a piece of shit and it's still a piece of shit. Things only escalated as the season went on but still I did what I could to hold my own, the one person I could go to for help was my older brother and even he forsaken me. He would often turn a blind eye to what was going on, and when he did pay attention all I would get out of him was a speech. "If they hit you then hit them back. If they make fun of you then make fun of them back. I don't want to hear about your problems they have nothing to do with me. What did you think the world was going to be so easy that you smile and everyone would be your friend, congrats you've learned that's not how it works. Why don't you just grow a pair and do something about it your self?" Our great grandfather had instilled in us that we should stick together as one, simply because we are family and that is what family does for one another. Over the years I tried to hold on to that belief even to this day, but even I have come to question it no matter how close to me it is. For several weeks as the leaves began to change things only got worse for me as I started to seclude my self to locations in the class rooms and through out the school that I could be alone, I found solace in these locations for what little time I could be in them knowing that soon I would be in the crowds again and victim to what would soon come. As fall break came around I felt glad to know I wouldn't have to put up with any of the crap from school and I could lick my wounds, but sadly fate had other plans for me and my family. For the past few years my grandfather on my mother's side had cancer in his left leg, they had cut off the leg at his shoulder in the hopes to remove it but in the process they missed a piece. It soon spread and strangled him to death that year and his funeral was held the day before Thanksgiving, funny how that worked out we gathered the next day but I questioned what was there to give thanks. Another family member dead before my eyes and the torment that waited me at school, what was the point, WHAT WAS THE REASON, IF ANY POINT OR REASON COULD BE MADE THEN WHAT WAS IT AND WHY!? The one thing that I hoped for was some kind of reprieve from it all, if anything at the least that this remained in the family so I could keep it apart from everything else. But as I said fate had other plans for me, the morning we returned to school my younger brothers had asked to stay home unable to contain their cries. She had granted them this and offered me and my older brother the same option, we chose to tough it out and go to school, when we got there I soon learned that the school was informed about the recent death in our family and asked that our teachers keep an eye on us just to be on the safe side. My first teacher of the day stood up and started off by giving her condolences, when I tried to play it off she claimed I was simply in denial and asked if me and my grandfather where close. Word soon spread like wild fire and my bullies came at me to no end and focused heavily on my grandfather's passing, my mind slowly started to sink and spiral as I pondered why would people stoop so low to use such a thing against me? I never truly learned the answer though I have gained some understanding to it and even still question it, there's no point in dragging the departed into issues like this or any other for that matter. The dead have earned their peace so let them have it, *hmph* its funny I say that, what peace is there to be had in this world or the next? The only bit of recovery I could find was in the music class I chose to take, I was playing the viola and enjoyed it... though looking back I should have gone bass I've had the hooves for it all my life. I played to regather what little pieces of my mind I could and keep together what little had yet to shatter, but most of all I enjoyed being in the same class as the one girl I had a crush on. Ya my bad should have mentioned that sooner, she was a golden brunette with what I could guess at the time was a burned amber eyes. I fell for her the first day I saw her but felt it was best to keep my distance simply because I didn't want to drag her into my problems, it didn't take long before a small group of my bullies learned about my feelings for her and found a way to drag her into the mix. At the start of it a small group of my bullies came to me acting like they wanted to be my friends, I was desperate for even a single friend I had even forgotten what it was like to even have one so I gladly accepted them and welcomed them in. I was a fool then too damn young, stupid, and desperate to not be able to see such a trick coming, for weeks they acted like my friends, they sat with me, talked with me, in time I thought it was real and they meant well. How blind I was that I didn't notice the signs that each little moment was for them to learn something new about me to use later, they soon got personal and learned about the girl I had a crush on. They soon fed me lies they came up with and told me how much she liked me and how she couldn't stop thinking about me, there where times when I could see it in her eyes that she wanted to tell me alone that it was all a lie. And even then a small part of me that new the truth wanted to tell her I knew, but how could I trust that part of me when I was wanting to take in the falsehood that made me happy? Then on the first day of spring with out warning she stood up in the middle of the music class and shouted, "I don't care for you, I hate you. I could care less if you ended up dead hanging in the gym from one of the rafters!" It was then what little of my self I managed to keep together shattered beyond repair and things got far more worse than I could imagine, my bullies where relentless and had so much new information from my so-called friends to use against me as they pleased. I sank so far down into a pit with in my self that even in my sleep they where there tormenting me, but even then I wanted to stand tall against it knowing that I was alone in the fight. As things got worse the more of a loner I became that my family thought it was a phase I was going through and would soon come out of, I soon turned to the occult and religion to hopefully find some kind of an answer something I could hold on to and use as a means to come back to my old self. I was painstakingly wrong every answer I got was the same, turn the other cheek, tough it out and be rewarded in the end, through pain comes enlightenment, what did any of this mean I often asked wanting to know why I was pointed towards them. I could find no answer and as the weeks progressed things continued to get worse, then one night when I was alone at home I could feel a skeletal grip on my head. Nothing was there but I could feel it and with this grasp came a voice, "It would be so much easier to just end it all myself. The knives in the kitchen are sharp enough, and all it would take is one quick slice across my wrist." Walking towards the kitchen I could feel these words as though they where my own, "No one would care if I left this world, hell things would just get easier any way." Once in the kitchen I pulled out the sharpest knife believing these thoughts where my own, "One simple little cut and it will all be over." Pressing the edge of the knife to my wrist I soon questioned who's thoughts this belonged to, I knew they where not mine as the thoughts them selves felt heavier to me. Pulling the blade away I soon pressed it back down as the thoughts rang through my head telling me it was the right thing to do, I wanted to ignore these thoughts and stop what I was doing but it felt right as if it was true. Pressing a little harder I slowly started to drag the blade only to stop as I felt two hooves on my shoulders, on the left was a bony yet firm grip, on the right was a husky yet rough grip. I knew these hooves they belonged to my grandfather and great grandfather, though I heard nothing I could feel they where slightly ashamed of me. One thing they had often taught us was suicide was never the answer to anything, to them it was the greatest insult to what they where and had done. It was cowardly, meaningless, held no value, and most of all had the greatest consequence and you can never take it back. Looking at my self I dropped the knife as I fell to my knees crying, I wanted them to tell me what to do I wanted their guidance now more than ever. Through their touch I could feel they wanted to help but knew they couldn't, it was my life and if I wanted it to mean anything I had to fight as they once did. Things never got easier for me not in the least, I transferred schools in eighth grade to start over and to get a second chance. Though on paper I was labeled a problem child with anger management issues, but I guess that's what they will call you when they don't want to help solve a bullying problem and you have to solve it your self. I don't condone violence not for any reason, but I don't believe you should let yourself be walked over either. I do think that if others will not help you and you've exhausted every option out there then do what you feel is natural, with the exception of killing your self. Though things haven't gotten easier for me I know the game is still the same, the only difference is what it's called now and the stakes that are set for the actions I make and choices I must make. I haven't felt my grandfathers since that day but I know they still care, I just wish this damn skeletal hoof would let go of me and let me live my life. I know it won't and the thoughts grow with each passing day and have become a little more cleaver in how they hit me, but I will never cross the line I can't come back from no matter what comes at me. I'll fight till the day I hear the bells Death has waiting to ring for me, and I'll go when I see the light of Death's lantern to guide me to where ever I will call my final destination. Till then what ever this damn thing is that has its grip on me, be it demon, tormented spirit, or my own dark nature I say this, "Please take a cactus out back so you can play hide-n-go-fuck yourself." Author's Note Before any of you can ask yes I did cry a few times while writing this, and no it never gets any easier.
