A Journey To the Other Side

I heard a blast that shifted me into an alternate universe. My Grandma Beth was there to greet me. A bright light surrounded us. She reached out and grabbed my hand. I touched her hand and my body felt warm and light. Kind of like the feeling you get when riding on a rollercoaster. Grams passed away three years ago; leaving the family in shambles. Was I dead? How; what happened? “I love you baby but it’s not your time.” My body jerked back and I was laying in a green lit operating room with bright lights in my face. Surrounded by doctors and nurses, I could not move. While laying there, I was left with my thoughts; wondering what happened to me.  When I came to, my body felt like a ton of bricks had fell on me. The doctors asked me for my name and age; questions I could not answer. It took one year for me to completely heal. My mother took care of me. I watched her cry everyday, as I struggled to recover. First; my speech came back. Then I struggled through several months of physical therapy. The strength it took to recover, gave me a sense of enlightenment.   Rewind to the beginning. Apparently; while catching the subway, I was attacked and robbed by a mob of young kids. One hit me in the head with a bat and the others proceeded to kick me. My consciousness was lost and I was left to die. We had a sketch drawn of my attackers when my memory came back. However; they were never caught. 

Strange things started to happen. Everyone stared at me when I went out in public. Dark shadows sat in the corner of my room as I slept. My nightmares haunted me. Lights would flicker on and off without manipulation. There was a wind that followed me. On the hottest days, that wind and chill would just shoot through my body. As soon as I got accustomed to the weirdness stranger things followed. 

I could clearly see and speak to dead people. It started with voices in my head. The people that I would see staring at me were actually not there to the naked eye. Fear surrounded me and my mother watched me suffer. When I told her about the young boy and the tall man that haunted our house; she didn’t believe me. Brandon, who was ten, was trapped by the man. He told me he was kidnapped and murdered and just wanted to find his mother, but the man would not let him go. My mother researched our property and discovered that a man by the name of Samuel Davidson owned the property in the sixty’s. He was convicted of kidnapping and the murder and molestation of five young boys. One of them being Brandon Jefferson. He was murdered in prison while on death row.   

Once what I was seeing was validated, I decided to seek help. There was a well renowned psychic medium in our town. She’ d already known of my new found abilities. I guess she sensed or saw a vision of me coming to her for help. She told me that my brush with death opened me up to the spiritual realm. She said that I had been chosen by God to help people release burdens and cross over. In Brandon’s case, it was the need to find his mother and the fear of Mr. Davidson’s spirit that held him back. As instructed by the medium I envisioned myself covered and protected in white light. While burning sage I instructed Mr. Davidson to leave and cross over. It was empowering to know that I could make commands and the dead would listen. My fear was completely gone. My mom took me to see Brandon’s mother. Brandon followed because Mr. Davidson was no longer around. I told his mother what I had been experiencing and that I needed to help her son cross over. He wanted to thank her for searching for him and he wanted to kiss her cheek one more time. She felt a chill as he kissed her and broke down crying. I watched as Brandon ascended into light. His mother felt a healing she’d needed. I continued to help and heal the living and the dead. Had it not been for my terrible tragedy, I would not be bringing light into the world today.