Followed Me Home
When I was younger, I used to love scaring the shit out of my friends when it came to the paranormal.
When I was younger, I used to love scaring the shit out of my friends when it came to the paranormal. I would tell ghost stories and sneak up behind them to scare them. And as we got older we would go walk through cemeteries at night and try to be amateur ghost hunters. There was one night and the weeks following it that I will never forget.
In the early days of summer, four years ago, a group of six friends, including myself, piled into my car in search of adventure. One of the guys with us, let’s call him Sam, suggested this very old cemetery that had been closed to the public for many years. We all agreed that it would be fun and set off for the middle of nowhere to find this place. It was located off of a back country road surrounded by thick woods we would have to venture through.
We all got out of the car, grabbing our flashlights and bags with water and snacks, and headed to the gate. It was locked with a posted 'No Trespassing' sign but we ignored it and climbed over the gate. When we got to the start of the woods, on the path leading back, I was hit by this overwhelming feeling of dread — something in me saying “Don’t go in there, just turn around and go back to the car.” But I ignored the feeling, as we walked on deeper into the woods. After walking for almost 20 minutes, we got to the clearing that held the cemetery.
All of the gravestones were old and falling apart, many dating as far back as the 1800s. We all started running around, looking at everything and calling out names off the stones that sounded familiar. I had broke away from the group to go toward the back edge of the woods away from where we had come in at...
Back there lay a single gravestone, weatherworn to the point of looking unmarked. And as I bent down to see if I could read even a little of what had been engraved, the sense of dread returned. I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me and an urgency to get out of there. So I yelled at everyone that I had saw other lights and we needed to run, knowing that if they thought we would be caught they would book it back to the car.
After leaving I felt completely calm again. But that calm would not last long at all. The following days have all but blurred into one continuous day of hell to me, but the events that happened will never go away. Two days after the cemetery trip, I was sitting in my living room watching TV when a cup on my counter went flying across the room. I got up to check that it was the cat who had hit it, but she was nowhere in sight. Later that night, a few of my girlfriends were over and we were out on my balcony. We had been out there talking for quite some time when I zoned out.
Standing in the grass beneath us was a looming black figure, nothing distinguishing about it other than its eyes. They seemed to be glowing, and staring right at me. The thing started to whisper to me that I had done wrong by entering that cemetery and that it was there to take me to Hell for my wrongdoings; that it would come to me and drag me down where I belonged.
Spooked by this, I jumped up and ran back into my house. My friends followed me, asking me what was wrong. I recounted what I heard, asking if they had heard any of it. Neither of them had heard anything at all and looked at me like I was crazy. Shortly after they left, I went to my room. Not long after laying down, I fell asleep, but was woken up by the feeling of someone laying down next to me. Seeing how I was the only person in my house, I was instantly alarmed. But what was worst is right before I switched on my light, I heard a deep growl from beside me.
Skip forward to two days after that incident, I had people over for dinner and to hang out. We had been sitting in my living room, talking while I was sketching in my notepad. What seemed like seconds, but was actually 35 minutes later, I was being shaken by my best friend. She said I had zoned out staring at the balcony door and writing in my notepad. I looked down and I had written, 'Drag you to hell,' over and over again. Many of the words overlapped each other in a messy way and it didn’t even look like my hand writing. I was so freaked out by this that I threw the notepad and asked everyone to leave.
My best friend stayed behind and decided she would spend the night. We watched TV for a little while, trying to take our minds off of what had just happened. Around one in the morning, we both went off to separate bedrooms to go to sleep. The next day, I woke up with a stinging pain on my legs, back, and arms. I am a stomach sleeper, so I found it weird that my back would hurt. I got up and went to my bathroom to get a shower. I had just gotten undressed when my best friend walked into the bathroom and gasped. I had what appeared to be claw marks on the back of my legs, back and arms.
After that day, I got in touch with someone from a nearby paranormal society and asked them to come to my house. Upon meeting them, they instantly knew that something dark had latched itself to me. After hearing what happened and listening to me recount what was happening to me, they decided to attempt an EVP session. During the session, they asked things like, 'who are you and why are you here?' After they had asked all their questions, they started to play back the recording. As soon as they heard the answer to who are you, they knew I was in danger.
What had been lurking in my home was a demon, who’s name I will not repeat, because even typing the name could be an open invitation for it to return. We finished listening to the recording, where they heard this demon say it would drag me to hell. The advice I was given was to seek out a priest. So the following day I went to the church that I occasionally attended and talked to the priest. I told him about going to the cemetery and about the thing that followed me home. He agreed to come with me and bless my house.
After I had my house blessed, I went through and burned sage to cleanse my house of any lingering spirits or unwanted darkness. Since that day, I have not stepped foot in a cemetery. I can’t bring myself to even go and visit departed loved ones, because I don’t know what is lurking out there. What was meant to be silly teenage fun turned into a living nightmare, all because it followed me home.