The Haunting

She had a fellow peer who was a recovering healer whom she encouraged to get back into “the swing of things.”

However, she decided she would not let this friend work on her because her friend was even more empathic – and wide-open-receptive to spiritual things.

The trail blazer knew by now that something was attached to her. That it was drawn forward when she let her guard down, or when she was exhausted.

It had the nack for playing on others’ perceptions. She could sit back, not participate, and just watch as people projected onto her – if she wanted to.

Maybe it was some sort of untamed gift for her using. But, who in their right mind would want to mess with an insatiable genie?

She could sometimes feel that it was from the blackest core, filled with hatred’s envy – just waiting. It frightened her to think that it might ever be able to use her as a tool.

Her immune system felt constantly fatigued, as if its presence was always feeding, depleting energy as her cells fought to keep it from infiltrating.

She couldn’t allow her friend to access it: it would take advantage of weakness.

Ignorant anger targeting her throughout her life’s growing was the reward for her taking on the Satanic curse – meant for her mother.