>True Scary Story of What Hate Does

>In the interest of writing something about Halloween, I thought I’d go ahead and confess to my own “close encounter with the other side.”

Years ago, more than I want to count, I was married to someone else. Let’s leave it at: we didn’t get along. I did leave him pretty soon after this happened, mostly because it scared the living shit out of me.

We’d had an argument which escalated into a fight–yelling, screaming, nasty words, nothing resolved…and I was seething when I went to bed. That “never go to bed angry” stuff is good advice.

I confess this to you now–I was wishing he was dead.

Yeah, not a pretty picture, is it? I’m not proud of it, but it’s a fact, and I think that fury and hate is what brought what happened that same night. I’ve only told 3 other people this in my life…but it’s Halloween, and time to bring out the scary truth.

I was asleep, but I woke up. At the foot of my king-sided bed, I saw something. Something tall, the top of it almost reaching the ceiling. It had the shape of a very big man and was wearing a long, black cloak with a hood over its head.

And it was floating at the foot of the bed.

I bolted upright thinking, “Oh I’m still asleep, and this is a nightmare I’m having.”

It wasn’t.

That thing, whatever it was, didn’t instantly disappear or become a coat hanging on the handles of a treadmill like scary shadows in the middle of the night will do. It evaporated slowly, bit by bit, moving slightly back and forth, floating all the while until it was finally gone.

Now, people, I don’t know for sure what that thing really was, but it scared the crap out of me. It was there…it was not my imagination or a bad dream. It was real.

To this day, I believe that thing was hate. It was the manifestation of the hate I had in my heart for this poor human being I’d chosen to marry. I have a horrible feeling it was there to help me do something about that hate…and it wasn’t something good.

Well, the ex is still alive and well, as far as I know, remarried and has a couple of kids. I am remarried to a wonderful man and have a great kid myself. But when I start to get angry nowadays, I remember what showed up to hang out with me that night, and I like to remind myself to calm the heck down and get a grip.

I don’t need anymore visits from that thing…


1 Comment

Filed under Life Interferes with Art

One response to “>True Scary Story of What Hate Does

  1. >Very scary indeed!And why in the world haven’t you worked this into a book yet? (Or if you have, drop us a hint so we can buy it when it comes out!)

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