Don’t Let There Be Blood

It started as I was some other woman who was married with a baby. She was actually schizophrenic or something, as she was hearing voices that were telling her that her family was dead. So she started running out of the bedroom she was in, down the hallway, into the dining room, to the bathroom that was next to the back sliding door. As she was running I could hear a loud, echoing clock ticking at a slowed pace. She/me expected to find the husband and baby in the dining room in front of the bathroom door next to the buffet. But they were not there, only a closed bathroom door.

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Picking the Bones

It was a Friday night in June, under a moonless night when my older brother got into a very bad accident. I was almost nine years old (seven weeks before my birthday), when my mom scooped me up in the middle of the night and dropped me off at my grandmother’s house so that she could go to the hospital. I have discussed this memory with my mom as I was sure that I must have had the flu as I had obviously been hallucinating, but she assured me that this was the only night I could be remembering and that I did not have a fever. What happened to me that night was purely spontaneous and not caused by any illness, and while stress was a factor (although she had not yet told me about my brother) my reaction was still very curious if my hallucinations were brought on merely from stress alone.

I remember arriving at my grandmother’s house in my pajamas in the middle of the night and being put to bed in the living room in a Murphy Bed. A couple of the family portraits in the living room started talking to me. It was very scary, and I tried to ignore them but they would not shut up. Suddenly my mother and brother were on a seesaw on the coffee table, and they joined in the conversation. Ignoring them didn’t work and I couldn’t sleep out of fear. Despite this, I got out of bed and slowly started walking towards my grandmother’s bedroom. I am not sure which was worse, the ghost conversations in the living room or the prolonged, twin-sighted journey through the hallway. Normal vision and normal reality over-lapped with trance vision so that I saw both a dirt path and the hallway at the same time. They occupied the same space.

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I am Witch

I’ve been asked many times how I became a witch, or why did I choose witchcraft.  I never have been able to explain it.  I just don’t have a nice, concise, cookie cutter answer.  In fact I didn’t choose it, there was no becoming.  I just was.  To me being a witch wasn’t a choice, it is not a religion to me.  It is just what I am.  I am witch.

I’ve tried to explain by sharing pieces of my history with people.  When I do, when I explain just a little of my background to Pagans, they are never surprised that I am now a witch.

So here it is, my complete witchy background.  I warn you it is long, and I would love it if more people would explain their background.  To me it is fascinating.

In the beginning…

God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters…

Oh wait,  I guess that is a little too far back…

What I really want to tell you about is my beginning; kinda of the story of my life with a strong emphasis on the magical.

Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale…

A tale of a fateful trip.  That started from this tropic port.  Aboard this tiny ship…

Oh wait, that’s the wrong story too.

I do have a story to tell, and this story begins with my grandparents.

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