A Painting.

I didn’t realize how long this was going to be, but I need you guys to understand that this has been on my mind for a few years, and after so long I still remember the craziest details. This shit was fucking horrifying.

So Im going to start off with saying that I DO believe in spirits/ghosts, and HIGHLY believe in the concept of energy. A reason that I highly believe in the concept of energy is because over the years of growing up and being diagnosed with depression I’ve noticed that I am an empath and I can easily pick up the energy in a room whether there’s people in it or not, as well as doing a overall collectively large amount of psychedelics throughout the years.

THE PAINTING. Being 20 years old now, this happened when I was around 15 or 16. I know I said I remember the craziest deatils, but this is not one of them. I can’t remember. With that being said since I was a kid my biological mother had sort of shoved religion down my throat so over the years of not seeing her and just living with my dad I had developed my own belief in myself and my independence. Ghosts, spirits, and energy wasn’t really on my mind at this time but I was always interested in horror movies and shit like that. my dad was on a trip and if I remember correctly he was in Mexico. He had called me one day after I got home from school and asked me if I wanted something from Mexico, as my dad and stepmom would usually buy me a little traveler gift or something when they go on business trips. I told him yes and I asked him what there was for options whether it be a keychain or a poster. He said that he had stopped in a shop that was sort of deserted, like it was being shut down or going out of business, and it was also weird that it was mentioned the shop was in the middle of nowhere. he said that they were actually some old paintings and being into art as well at the time, that really peaked my interest. I only remember the description of the one painting that he had described, Soley because of the occurrences that had happened once it was in my possession. It had a very old dark wood frame, and it wasn’t super smooth but it wasn’t like rough or beat up or anything. The painting itself looks like it’s on white marble and what the painting is, is that it’s almost a cartoonish traditional skeleton dancing in a graveyard wearing an outfit that would make you think of something William Shakespeare would wear. The painting overall looks really cool but as soon as I got it, something was off. and it wasnt super noticeable but when you look at it, it’s just unsettling in the slightest. The first occurrence I had with this painting was the first week after I had owned it. it was hanging over my door, and may I add that at the top of the painting there’s an extremely super thick rope that’s used to put on a nail so that the painting can hang. I had gotten out of the shower after I got home from school and I walked into my room, and as soon as I walked through the door way the painting fell and I felt the wind from the painting fall behind me, and it felt like it was inches away. Any other day I would’ve just dismissed it and thought about how shitty it would’ve been if the painting hit me but I didn’t realize that there was something paranormal going on, So I put my clothes on, got a stool, and spent about three minutes making sure that the painting was not going to come off the nail. when I got off the stool, I gently push the side of the painting to watch it swing back-and-forth to make sure that it wouldn’t fall off the nail. I had made sure that the only way that the rope could come off of the nail was if you were to directly push up and pull it off.

I left and walked into my bathroom to go pick up my clothes from the bathroom floor and I walked back into my room, and as soon as I stepped through the door, the painting fell off and hit me on the shoulder. this had honestly freaked me the fuck out on many different levels, And it doesn’t even stop there. I picked up the painting off the floor and then tossed it in my closet where all my dirty clothes were, and being about 15 or 16 obviously it was a pile on the floor in the closet. about a month later I had told one of my friends about what happened with the painting, and to this day something tells me that I probably shouldn’t have told anyone about the occurence in general because nothing had even happened up until I brought it up to him. The next morning before I had to go to school, it was extremely early and I’d woken up and couldn’t go back to sleep, and it was before any of my parents were up. I couldn’t go back to sleep because I didnt realize that my instinct was picking up that there was something else in the room with me. I sat up and just sat there and stared at the closet doors. I sat there for about five minutes debating on whether or not I wanted to see what had sounded like a scratching sound coming from my closet. I threw up my blankets and put my feet on the floor, but is soon as I stood up the moving in the closet stopped. At this point it was reacting to the sound of me, which was scary and terrifying because I’d realized that the painting was in there and from what had happened the month before. I stood there for a solid minute just staring at the door and then my anxiety got so high that I just ran up to the doors and threw the doors open. Nothing. Just a pile of clothes, and no the clothes were not a month old, I just kept the painting on the floor because I really did not want to touch it. I stood there just stay into the closet, and looking down at the floor I noticed the corner of the painting. As soon as I had made eye contact with the painting, there was an inhumane and grotesque deep pitched growl that came from the closet, and the scariest fucking thing about this was that I could feel the sound vibrations in the floor and in my chest and there was nothing even there; I was feeling the vibrations from something I couldn’t even see that was making that noise. I ran out of the room and had went downstairs for the remainder of the hour that I had until I even had to actually get up for school and sat on the couch watching TV with the kitchen and living room lights on. After this had happened, my mental health rapidly declined and was diagnosed with clinical depression, anxiety disorder, and ADD; all of which I’m sure I would’ve been diagnosed with regardless, it just felt like these feelings when I was home where intensified by 10. my parents didn’t believe me so I just gave the painting to my dad and told him to put it in storage and that I didn’t want to see it ever again. About a year later, around fourth quarter of me being 17, I had switched rooms and moved into my sisters old room because she had moved out. I’d put the painting up on the wall but it was only there for a week until I had an experience where I woke up with my body facing the wall and couldn’t move. I had passed out and left my door open and I heard something that started from the stairs, walk through the hallway, and into my room to my bed. As soon as the steps stopped by the side of my bed, I could move but nothing was there. my family owns a big dog and a small dog but I know it wasn’t the dogs because when whatever it was was walking on the wood floor in the hallway to my door, the scratching sound of nails on the floor was very long and very high-pitched. I haven’t seen the painting since. after that had happened I saged my entire fucking house and hit a dip in my mental health again. It was fucked up and evil, what it did to me. I was paranoid and my parents thought I was just lying since I was also dealing with issues between me and my parents. I have a photo of me with the painting in the back, and just writing this makes me think about deleting the picture and never seeing it again, but for everyone’s sake of curiosity, ill post it.

Submitted October 06, 2018 at 08:51AM by wristworkk https://ift.tt/2y1EfaY