Crazy, · Hysterical · or · Really · Seeing · Something?

When I reached the path, I turned around to admire the creepy, but pretty picture. How cliche it would be if something happened.

I felt the need to move away quickly. I crossed the street. The other field, the one that usually feels benign was covered in mist. Mist that poured over the sidewalk in that awful, nearly human way that fog has. Under some bizzare compulsion, a pounding thought that I had to get home and what's more, safely inside. I ran.

I cannot tell you why. I simply had to run. When I got in, I told Natasha about it. She immediatly insisted that we go back out to have a look.

The mist had retreated completly from the path and she insisted on going farther into the grass to scoop out where it was still thick. She turned around halfway down, complaining that she didn't want to get her shoes any more wet then they already were. Later, she admitted that there was something 'off' about it. The original cold spot was still mist covered and I started to distinctly feel something pressing against me. Much like when a friend runs up behind you and forces you walk in a certain direction or fall over. I walked. As we walked back, avoiding the field closer to home by going to my car, the force stayed with me. It felt a lot like Jack does. It steered us out of the fog's way.

I haven't felt that irrationaly frightened since I was a chlid. I feel childish to even be talking about it, but that's why I started this journal in the first place.

Doubtless Connie could come up with some clear reason why the mist formed in certain places and even I know that mist rolls.
And it's not possible that the malice I felt sychnoized with the moon being covered or uncovered.

I'm just shaky in the head is all.

Tommy is apparently interested in Tina which, given his propensity to bondage, is slightly worrying. Hopefully nothing will come of it.

Luckily I didn't get an answer. I think if I start hearing things, that might be a step too far. The cold spots were normally sized.

When I got back to the house, I made a gesture up to the fire escape as if to tell Jack he could go back to his usual hang out. I thought nothing of it, but then I stepped foward and it was if something that had been supporting my left side had fallen away and for the next few steps, I felt completly off balance.

I suppose Jack is learning to be supportive.

Or I'm losing my over caffinated mind.

The window stayed open. With the wind blowing in such a manner that it should have closed.

So I just sort of sent out feelers.

I got one image. A very primative sort of person, vaguely shadow like with eyes like a cat's in the dark, except floresent blue. It had dark stringy dredlocked hair and I got the impression just behind her of a little girl. This seemed like a mask of some kind then for this child. She was using it to scope me out since I felt no malice from the dredlocked woman, just a sort of catious curiosity.

They were bizzare again, this time with the Hanging Man in how people percieved her. I had her reshuffle and closed my eyes, lying down attempting to see what was out there. I had a blue washed out image of the room and saw a smokey thing hanging around Tina. I called it over to me and it seemed distinctly aroused by my presnese, coming to lie full body over me. I think it was a young man with a name that began with 'T', he had some kind of bondage fetish and a scar that ran over his eye and to his lip. Well scar or death wound, I'm not sure since he seemed fairly young and vital.

I knew about the scar because it felt as if I had one myself. The feeling lasted for about a half hour. There was no feeling of threat about him and I had a feeling that he was attracted to something about the reading, then me. He did not return.

Also on October 24, when I was at work and had forgotten to lock the door, Natasha text messaged me to tell me it was open. When I told her I had at least closed it, she expressed surprise. When she went into the shower it had been mostly closed, but when she came out, it was wide open. There were no windows open and our doors are not prone to closing.

I told Natasha about it and we went through a walk. She felt the tempature dip and agreed on the sensation.

I'll try and keep updates on how this cold spot progresses.

He proposed the idea that given all this was happening more to me and Natasha, I might have some kind of power he couldn't see. The word necrosavant was introduced. I'm not sure how I feel about this though it rings a certain kind of truth for me. Meditation was suggested.

I wish I could draw as frequently individual images are what I perceive. Writing will have to suffice. From here on out, there should be a few entries a week on what I get from meditations. Perhaps from some dreams, though I find my dreams to be generally normal and not indicitive of the strangeness otherwise in my life.

The night before I had told our housemate, Tina, about everything thinking that the boys were gone for good. Boy, was I wrong.

When I first went to meditate the very next day, I called Jack to me and I distinctly felt something warm holding my hand. I got two images. One was looking at a dirt path, a figure made of shadow turned me to see a dark void eating at the forest. Then it switched to my perspective being a four legged animal running very quickly alongside the road, a bush with small yellow flowers next to me.

The next image came after I thought Jack had gone and it was of a hand with chipped nail polish laid on something black and plastic-y. It was a right hand and the first finger suddenly split at the knuckled like a sudden cut without a blade. It was a cross and before I could really look at it, a drop of blood fell as if from a nose bleed and obscured it.

Later Natasha told me, she had seen two people out looking lost on a dirt path as she drove back from upstate. They had looked oddly familar.

This night was diffrent.

I laid out her cards on my bed and I could feel something cold building at my back, trying to push through me. Half way through laying out the nine card spread, I could tell that this reading had nothing to do with her. They were angry cards, male cards and nothing like her usual neat one suit readings. The cold was sitting in my bones now and I quickly suggested we move to her room.

Just across the hall had a whole other feel and I had her shuffle again. Everything came out as it should this time, with one notable excpetion. The card indicating friends, which for her was usully very strong and positive, was the Death card. We laughed it off. I started to feel very warm and curled up a bit. There was sensation in my hair like somebody storking it. I belive this was Vic, doing his usual act of apolgizing for Jack's misbehavior.

On a lark, Natasha suggested she read my cards. I allowed her to and my cards also came up with one unusual card. Death in friends, again.

We both started to laugh and there was a distinct feeling that atmosphere had lightened.

Since neither of the boys had shown the ability to manipulate physical objects, our guess was that they had worked together to pull off this little joke and in that reunion had realesed a lot of tension.

The boys, who we originally thought present only in memories, started to make themselves known. This occured mostly by sudden draughts of cold despite unseasonably warm weather.

When I passed the bathroom mirror, I would get flash images of a rotton/corpse face with shoulder length hair tied back from it. I took this to be Jack, showing me what he knew to be his face. Very vain, Jack seemed to want to know what he had looked like in life as the knowledge had been taken from him.

My floormate, here in referred to as Natasha, and myself, Connie, were talking. It was a little after midnight and our convesation was meadnering as Natasha smoked out the window. Such discussions were a nightly event and hardly a mark of anything unusual.

The man I was seeing at the time and still am at the time of this writing had gotten us thinking about the supernatural. He will here in be refered to as Zev. Idly, we pondered if Natasha's phobia of drowning was related to some past life that ended in that way. Natasha is a Catholic and I'm a Jew, religiously neitehr of us thought much about past lives, except to think that there were some desires and fears that we couldn't explain based on our life experiances.

Casually, I mentioned that one of my fears was being shot accidently with a gun. Immedialtly, she stiffened up, went pale and looked very spooked. When I questioned her, she shook her head and went back to the conversation. She moved from the window, sat on my bed and we went on talking.

"You know," I said, "given how long we get along, I wouldn't be surprised if we'd met before."

All of a sudden, I felt a great sweeping cold, all the hair stood up on my body and tears came to my eyes. A flash, like a four second video came to my mind. I was walking out of a dark alley, a man standing next to me, his hand on a gun and a third waiting for us at the end in a pool of light.

I told Natasha what had happened and her eyes went wide.

"That's exactly what I saw, just now when you were talking about the gun!"

We'd had the same recalled memory. It would have been freaky enough if it ended there, but our discussion went on for several hours and trying to be as careful as we could not to assume or extrapolate what wasn't there, we agreed on the following things:

1. This was some kind of past life experiance. We'd been cousins, both male. We didn't know thier real names, but they had nicknames. Jack of All Trades or Jack for mine and the Vicar or Vic, for hers.
2. The boys had lived some time in 1800s, place unknown though it was by a river. They had been fairly well off. Jack had lived in Vic's home when they were boys.
3. Jack was older then Vic and when they were young Jack took care of Vic. The oppisote became true as they aged.
4. Vic was generally very closed off, isolated. Jack was manic depressive, creative and careless.
5. There was an afternoon on the river with a beautiful young lady. Vic liked her, Jack hated her, possible because Vic did like her.
6. Jack visited Vic at school on one occasion when they were older.
7. Vic was a soldier of some kind, strong possibility that it was at sea. He was away a lot.
8. From the time they were in their early teens, Jack fell in love with Vic. It wasn't that far a jump because he'd never cared about anyone else. He would carry that torch to the end of his days. It is unknown if Jack ever told Vic, but is highly possible that Vic knew nontheless.
9. Vic was away a lot and for long periods of time.
10. Jack spent a lot of time gambling, drinking and generally being a wastrel.
11. The night of the masque. This is the originating memory.
a. They were dressed in clothing from an older period then themselves.
b. Vic had a gun. At some point, Jack took it, perhaps passing it off as a joke. It wasn't Vic's usual
pistol.
c. They had a very good night.
d. Jack went home, kneeled on the ground, put the gun in his mouth and shot himself.
12. Vic blamed himself for Jack's death for the rest of his life and apparently, beyond the grave.

There were several Natasha felt that I was nearly pocessed, so strongly was I assosiating with Jack. At one of these points, I saw in midair a human face that melted into a set of teeth that seemed to be in a wolf's head. It lunged for my throat and I again became pale and shook. This seems unrelated to boys. Like a barrier of some kind had been thinned by their presense.

This was the first night.