Terror On the Way Home

Terror On the Way Home

Many years ago  when I was in high school, a dear friend of mine and I were riding home from football practice on West Lexington Avenue.  We were being typical teenage boys, listening to rock music, laughing it up and talking about girls.  As we approached the bottom of Cridlebaugh Hill in front of the old mansion something very scary occurred.  I mention the old mansion because growing up I always heard rumors that the place was haunted by spirits of slaves, wagon trail riders and a fiddle player.  Of course, I cannot confirm or deny any of that information as anything more than old wise tales passed down through the years in the local area.  My grandpa used to tell me stories about the place and things that happened there when he was a young boy.

Anyways, back to the story now that I have set the tone with the big scary mansion noone wanted to live in or go into.  As we were riding across the bridge we heard a horrific noise, a voice that cannot be described.  It was like a horror movie voice, deep, dark and very hard to forget.  Whatever it was hit the top of the car and physically shook the car from side to side.  It was large, mean and I thought for sure we were dead.  Some have said it was a deer, but folks most deer cannot jump over the top of a car and land on it.  Deer cannot scratch the paint with claw-like marks either. It was such a traumatic experience that my friend still doesn’t like to talk about it to this day.  I don’t like to talk about it either, but getting it out is what I need to do.  

Many years have passed and has left me with so many questions about what that could have been.  As I have aged and thought about it more, I truly believed that it was a demon of some kind.  A demon sent to hurt myself, my friend or both.  Whatever it was the lasting impact of the experience is something that shakes the foundation of a person and leaves a permanent reminder that there are things out there that we do not want to mess with.  Now the kicker to the story, which is the song we were jamming to on the radio was Hells Bells. 

To this day I think about the experience, but will not listen to that song as a result of it.  I had enough of whatever that was and have no plans to experience it again or tempt fate.  I went straight home and told my mom about it and she told me to pray about it and put it in God’s hands.  I spoke to my spiritual guide and she confirmed that it was something dark, menacing and not of the light.  It wanted to hurt us, and we just happen to be the people in the area at the time.  We survived the attack and Thank God are still alive and kicking today.  

This is just one of many experiences that have taken place in the battle between good and evil during my lifetime.  Yes folks, the battle between the two is very real and is not to be taken lightly.  Call me crazy, call me whatever, but I know that these things are not imagination. Don’t play with things you don’t understand or open yourself up to a chance of being attacked.  Keep your eyes on God, pray daily and ask him for protection.  

1 Peter 5:8

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.

KB

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