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My Mothers Demons

Hi all I talk about my mother on here before but now I would like to tell a bit of her story.

Ok my mom was sick for many years having heart attacks and strokes. In one year she had 10 no lie! She was in and out of the hospital a lot. I called her everyday to check on her three or four times a day to the point she was a little tired of me. Well she started to tell me she was feeling things in her home. I asked her what was wrong? So she told me something evil was trying to kill her. So I believed her because I’ve seen with my eyes spirits and demons growing up.

My mother also dealt with santaria in the past. So she said that my big sister just brought her a pretty plant and it was nice and green and healthy. She said the next day she went out …

July 18th, 2011 by Caretaker 

Not all Skeletons are in the Closet

It was 1986, I was 5 years old and living with my mother at the time. She was heavily into Santeria and liked to call her self a white witch. She would light candles, lay out food and pray to these so-called saints and guides.

Even at my young age I knew that the things she was doing was wrong. It put fear in me. We lived in a two bedroom apartment in the Bronx. When you walk in there’s a short hallway that was leading to the living room. To the right before the living room was a long hallway to the right that lead straight to my bed room. The kitchen was off to my right and my mom’s room was off to the left.

My mom would put me to bed and turn off the lights. I was not scared of the dark until I started to see it. I was in bed, I don’t remember if …

February 10th, 2011 by Caretaker 

The Demon at My Door

I come from a small West Texas town. In our community there is a strong belief in “curanderas” and “santeria”.

When I was about 7 years old we resided in a trailer with my mother, my heroin addicted father, and my younger brother. My father’s habit caused him to be violent towards my mother which seemed to go on every night. This particular night my father beat my mother pretty badly, but she refused to call the police or even call an ambulance. I heard her loud sobbing that night and attempted to comfort her but she sent me to my room, and my father threatened to punish me if I went back into her room.

I went to bed on the top bunk while my brother slept on the bottom bunk. There was a door that led to the bathroom, and my mother always left the light on so that we may see where we were going in case …

August 14th, 2009 by Caretaker