Your True Tales
February 2007 - Page 8
The Séance
by Tom
It was 1974 and I was in college. I lived alone in an old apartment building in Queens, New York. Both of my parents had passed away, so I was living on my own. I worked weekends and went to school all week. It was a stressful time for me, filled with loneliness and sadness.
One night I was asleep, and my eyes suddenly snapped open. There, at the side of my bed, was the translucent figure of a man. One of his shoulders was lower than the other, his legs slightly bent. He appeared to be trying to break down a door with his shoulder, but instead, his thrust was aimed at a window that was in the wall that the head of my bed was against. Instinctively, I jumped out of bed and took a swing at the figure, my heart pumping loudly in my chest. But the figure was gone, and I stood alone in the center of the room.
I slept fitfully the rest of the night. A few days later I was in my school's cafeteria (I attended The School of Visual Arts in Manhattan), and I told the story to a classmate of mine who was also a friend. A strange expression formed on his face and he motioned for me to leave the cafeteria with him. He led me into an empty lecture hall, and proceeded to tell me that he had a friend who was a psychic who would be able to help. In actuality, these two guys were very similar to the two brothers on "Supernatural" minus the guns, knives and salt-loaded buckshot. There are so many stories I could tell about these two men, but I would probably be called a liar if I ever recounted them.
They arranged to come to my house for a séance of sorts. In attendance was also a cousin of mine who was a close confidant, in addition to being a relative. My college friend and his acquaintance, the Psychic, prepared my combination kitchen/living room for the rite. They covered my round kitchen table with brown wrapping paper, upon which they drew a star in a circle, surrounded by magical symbols. They explained to me that the circle was for protection, and that we must not let go of the table once the rite began.
The lights were switched off. The psychic began to breathe deeply, and soon he began to speak oddly. My college friend asked questions of the psychic, who spoke in odd accents and foreign words. It was chilling. Then the psychic's voice rose in anger, and the table, which we lightly touched with our fingertips ROSE OFF THE FLOOR and swayed back and forth. In the dark there was a sound of something pebbly being poured from a jar. My cousin and I were amazed but frightened.
As the psychic continued to scream, the thick brown wrapping paper on the table began to tear with loud rending sounds. We desperately clung to the paper that was under our fingers as we felt it being pulled off the table. In the background, I could hear furniture moving on the wooden floors. In concert with the psychic, my college friend began to shout, "Disperse, disperse!" At these words the table sank to the floor in a fluttery motion and landed on the floor with a low thud.
As we all breathed heavily my college friend snapped on the lights, and it was revealed that all the furniture in my living room was bunched in the center of the area. It was weeks later, after several more séances where things flew through the air, furniture lifted off the floor, and my bedroom door held shut by rope because something in the room pulled with unbelievable strength was trying to get out (and do God knows what) that finally the psychic managed to expel the presence from my apartment. I'll never forget the fright that I experienced.
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