Metaphysics and the world of the paranormal had always fascinated me. I grew up in a comic book house. My brother used to buy them so I would read them. He was a true collector. He would buy "Doctor Strange: Master of the Mystic arts" and I would tear into them. They were written with great research to keep alot of it authentic.
By the time I was 11, although I was attending catholic schools, I started taking out books on witchcraft from the library. My first book was "The Modern Witches Spellbook" by Sarah Lyddon Morrison. My mother thought it was a phase. They always do. I would search for whatever "spells" I thought would do me good.
There was a boy in school. A year older than I, as I was skipped a grade, named Terrence Bell. He teased me. I loathed him.
Now most occult practise is based on two things: Belief and emotion vs. The brains psychic energies. One is a science, the other a religion. When you're very young, you're a ball of raw unbridled emotion. The "spell" is merely a bunch of words to help shape your psychic imagination and form it into a tool.
Terry Bell annoyed me to no end. So one day, I read this book, looking for something harmless. I found a spell to "break someones heart". This sounded rather amusing. However, what do 12 year olds love? They are at the beginnings of the anti-parent/adult rebellious stage. Terry had no pets so he had no othee love to help his heart break.
At the stroke of midnight, with curtains drawn on a waxing moon... I began my ritual with the materials I had found around the house. Sometimes spells seem to have alot more ritualistic and symbolic items not easily attained by a jobless 11 year old. But this one was simple.
With all the hatred I could muster, I fired my psychic missle into the air. Then, a tad tired, I fell asleep right after I was done.
The next morning, Terry is in school, crying his eyes out. I'm squirming in my seat, giggling with glee, for it seemed a heart had broken and I believed I was responsible. The principle would prod him: "Terrance! TERRANCE!! What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
His answer still haunts me to this day as I feel I am responsible due to the circumstances. Had I delved into forces I should not have? In the metaphysical world, there's no such thing as coincidence. I believe this was the the pivotal moment in my belief system when I heard his reply.
His answer, buried in tears and sobs: "My favourite uncle DIED last night at 3 o'clock in the morning! He was shot for NO REASON!"
Dwell on that a moment.
Posted by Darkstar at August 11, 2005 08:06 PM