I was about ten years old when the tragedy happened. It was a cold February evening. I could feel that something was terribly wrong, although it appeared to be a very normal day. As a young child I remember hearing family members speak of premonitions, though I never thought I would experience one...Now, I can't tell you how or even explain it, but on the last day of this cold February evening I predicted my own fathers death. I dismissed it as a bad feeling and a terrible image from a dark place in my imagination. Hours later, my mom burst though the door, tears streaming down her face. She explained that there had been an accident and my dad didn't make it.
When something like this happens darkness has a way of following you around.

Shortly after the tragedy, mom and I were forced to move into a new house as we were no longer a two income family. That was when we found the house on the hill next to the cemetery. Instantly I hated it. My mom however, loved it. It was a large two story old home with more space than either of us needed. I can't explain why I hated it, but it just gave me an uneasy feeling.

As a kid I was somewhat of a loaner. I was an only child so I was used to finding ways of entertaining myself. One day I was playing alone in the unfinished basement when I stumbled upon a box of photographs. From the moment I opened the box I felt an evil presence overtake me. Although the first few photographs appeared to be nuns in traditional catholic nuns clothing, something about them just felt malevolent. The photographs were taken in black and white and appeared to be very old. As I flipped though the photos I came to a paper towards the bottom of the box labeled February 1973. Looking at the photos beneath the paper I could tell that these were definitely not nuns...

What I saw has stayed with me. Even now as a woman of 30, I am still disturbed thinking about it. The photos that followed were a series of black and white images of what appeared to be an elderly woman tied to her bed in a long dressing gown. At first she looked to have a pained expression on her face, but as I flipped on something in her face changed. It became sunken in and demonic. I could tell from the photos that her movements were ridged and contorted. As frightened as I was, the photos had pulled me in. I was stuck looking at them. I just knew this woman was possessed by something otherworldly...something insidious. It was like I went into some sort of a trance. I must've sat staring at the box of photos for hours, because when my mom called me up for dinner it was dark outside.

When I showed my mom the photos she was so disturbed we stood at a hotel that night. The next day she went into town to try and find more information about the house. What she discovered was that the house was owned by an elderly couple back in the 1970's. The elderly couple were very religious and believed that the rapture was coming. Together they performed religious cleansing, chanted, placed photos of nuns throughout the house for protection, and even had a seance. Although this was all done under the guise of innocence, many people believe that the couple unwittingly invited evil into their home.

The events that followed were so disturbing that the old house carried a stigma that everyone knew about. Everyone except for my mom and me. The poor old woman started to experience what her husband believed to be a possession. She would scream, bang on walls, speak in disturbing voices, and contort her body in unnatural ways. Her husband desperate to get help from the church started to photograph images with his old camera in the hopes of delivering proof. He was ultimately turned away by the church. Desperate, he checked his wife in to a hospital. The ultimate conclusion was that the woman suffered epileptic seizures. After the old man died the house was bought by the bank and stood vacant for ages until mom and I moved in.

During our time living in the house we experienced strange events, but we did our best to ignore all of it. We never dared to try and communicate, cleanse, or invite anything in. We felt it was best to leave well enough alone. My sixth sense told me that this was the right move. To this day I think back about that dark time in my life and wonder...-Why did the events take place in February? -Was it a coincidence? -How did I find the box? -What happened during the time that I lost? -Why wasn't I more afraid?

The only thing I know for sure is that once you let the darkness in there is no escaping it. You can try to avoid it, but it lurks... Waiting for the moment you're most fragile to befall you with its sinister force. My advice, DON'T LET IT IN! NEVER LET IT IN!!