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The Walking Stick- Part II

Today's subject, keeping in line with the 30 day blog thing, actually ties up with something that happened Sunday night. I was going to post about it yesterday, but I was just too damn tired to rehash it.

4. What am I afraid of.

I'm afraid of all sorts of mundane things. Bees, death, heights, breaking bones in a really painful way etc. What really freaks me the fuck out is the supernatural.

Sunday night, I'm loading some clothes in the washing machine and I swear I saw a human sized shadow pass behind me. I quickly turned around and of course, no one was there. I threw the rest of the clothes into the wash as quickly as I could, without giving a fuck if there was anything in the pockets, and I ran into the bedroom as quick as my feet would take me. I'm certain that it was my imagination, but that feeling... That feeling that something passed behind you and there's nothing there to pass behind you. Just fucking weird. (And yes, I had made sure that the doors were locked a few minutes prior to this)

It's not that I'm afraid of ghosts. I'm not certain that I even believe in them. It's the fucking dreams.

Worse dream I've ever had. Easily 4yrs ago. This dream was seen in that old, yellowish black and white that you would see on pictures from the early 1900s. I was walking on a side walk and I come upon this Victorian Style looking house. Someone said to me "Hey, you want to see a ghost? Come on in". I walked into the house in the middle of what I suppose was a viewing or a wake. There was an open casket. Next to the casket there was a slender, tall female spirit that was floating, doing that crazy violent head shake like the ghosts did in "House on Haunted Hill" and "13 Ghosts".

I heard a soft, female voice in my head that said

"They call it the Walking Stick. It helps them transition to the next life."

I woke up shaking in fear.

Somewhat changing the subject. I had a dream that I had son, last night. I guess I was picking him up from the baby sitter. I picked him up in my arms, as I was doing so he said to me. "I love you, Daddy". I responded "I love you too, Son", and woke up. I want kids.


Oh gosh, I am a total wimp. I hate being scared, I hate scary stuff. If I ever experienced anything freaky like that I'd need therapy aha!
I'm thinking that I'd need one, too!