The Devil Watches over Me

by Freddy Cabrera about a year ago in psychological

He's been there from the beginning.

The Devil Watches over Me
Every night for as long as I could remember, I always knew there was something watching me from the shadows and the corners of my room. It has always been a disturbing feeling yet over time I became used to it. I can't call it my guardian angel because it wasn't. Even though it watched over me 24 hours of the day, it wasn't there to protect me. If it was there to protect me, then it would keep my nightmares away from me. Those nightmares would get worse and worse over the years of my childhood. The worst one I can remember was always of me standing face to face with the Devil. It was always the same dream, we just glared at each other. He looked at me with pure hatred and I looked at him with rage and fear. It always felt like he took something from me and that was something that I would not understand until recently. I had the same nightmare again recently, except this time he spoke to me. "You will fall to me." Hearing those words frightened me to the point of waking up instantly, but that wasn't the most terrifying part. When I opened my eyes I couldn't focus them, it looked like I was staring into a wall. That's when I realized that I was staring into the corner of my room. I was standing up and not in bed. This particular corner that I was facing is the one that I normally feel the most negative presence.

Never in my life had I sleep walked before, yet after this it hasn't happened again. I wanted more than anything to have someone to tell this to but I live in a very strict Christian home. I told my father, even though my gut told me not to. He is the pastor to my family's church, I didn't know what would happen. I had to deal with this problem on my own, just like I always had since I was a child because he just glared at me and told me to get out of his face.

I got on my knees and prayed. I prayed for as long as I could. I have no idea how long I did it for, it could've been five minutes or five days, I felt no difference. Throughout the whole thing, I felt his hand rest upon my shoulder. I felt his hand caress my face, trying to make me feel like it was okay. But I knew it wasn't and because I paid no attention to him, the Devil in my room became aggressive. My back seared in pain from the scratches I started receiving. I could feel the blood drip down my back and the clothes literally being torn off of my back. I looked up and saw the Devil himself with a whip in his hand. It was the same whip that was used on my sister when she wasn't scared of him anymore. I prayed that my father would stop whipping me but the Devil persisted. He didn't stop until I passed out from the pain, at least that's what I remember. He could've kept going after that for all I know.

When I woke up the following day, I was in the hospital. My back was numb and my head was throbbing. I looked up to see the television and I saw the Devil again. He was cuffed and being escorted by police out of my house.

How does it work?
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