AnnaCSwhite

(These are both true encounters I have had through out my life and some nightmares or I should say terrors. I may even throw in a few stories I have hard from my friends. I hope you will enjoy these terrifying tales.)


    1) My Earliest Encounter
 
    Being that of only  mere babes still in need of a crib, old enough to stand and kind of walk, maybe run, it is very unlikely that many of you reading this can remember much of your early child hood. I can though it’s  few and far between but, I can. The only reason I know they are true memories is because, my mother confirms them and is surprised that I can even recall those moments. One of them is a fearful story for any babe.

    My family moved around a lot when I was very little, on account of my fathers job. We would stay at versus  family members and friends homes as we traveled cross country to what would become our new home. It gave my parents time to visit old friends and say hi to family that they didn’t often get to see. One of the houses we stopped at was home to some friends of theirs, who offered to put us up for the night in they’re spare room. To be honest I don’t really remember any thing of that day or what was all going on leading up to my bed time. I just remember being carried up what seems to me like a steep stair way by my mother.
   
It was so dimly lit that it mines well have been candle light. The steps creaked as my mother made her way up them with me.  I could just make out the bottom of the steps from the dim lighting coming from the room I assume I had just been in moments before. When she got to the top of the stairs, she entered the first room to what would have been my left and her right. The room seemed large but, mind you, this is from the perception of a very small child. Almost box like in shape aside from the ceiling. Exposed wooden support beams could be seen that went in the lengthy direction of the house. The ceiling angled down wards not to sharply. There was a single large window that had a wooden rocking chair to the right of it. Fallowing a crossed the back wall we come to the first of two full/twin sized beds in the room, both made up with a quilted blanket on top. You are greeted by the foot of each bed when you walk in and would half to walk along side them to get to the rocking chair by the window. There is a night stand with a lamp in between the two beds.  Against the wall with the door is the white crib I would be bunking down in for the night.
   
    My mother places me in the crib and pulled the blanket up over me. She places a flash light in the crib with me and proceeds to tell me she will be right down stairs, use this if you become afraid. She says good night and leaves. I can hear her descend the creaky stair case to the rest of the adults in the other room. I must have dozed off because, there is a brief moment of just blackness in between. The only thing I remember next is opening my eyes and being a little unsure of where I was. There was also a more alarming feeling that I was not sure what to make of. Now that I am older I know it was the feeling that you are not a lone and something is wrong.  A little frightened I remember almost as if it was instinctual laying as still as I could and looking through the bars and folds of the crib for any sign of movement. When I couldn’t see any thing it alarmed me more. Lucky for me the flashlight had not moved much from where mom placed it. I grabbed it and turned it on. Shining it through the bars and casting the cribs cagy shadow along the walls as I looked around. I sat up on the way back around to get a better view. Regardless where I shined the light, I still couldn’t see any thing. So with the help of the crib I stood up, to see if it may be more ground level. Nothing could be seen aside from hard wood flooring.

    I flopped back down  in the crib not sure if I wanted to cry or not, as the uneasy feeling refused to leave. I started really trying to understand what was going on and almost as though my concentration in the mater was paying off, the only way I can describe it, is like I felt something move. Kind of like a personal bubble issue, you have so many boundary layers to this bubble and every time someone gets closer, your body reacts either in a positive or negative way. I guess you could say it was when I became a little more intuitive about mine. All I knew was whatever it was, was in the rocking chair and it was after that I picked up on a new alarming scenes that swept over me. What I now know to be the feeling of being watched.

    I quickly flashed the light right on the chair. Only to be dumbfounded when I saw nothing was there. But, I didn’t take my eyes off that spot or the light. I knew what ever it was, was in that spot. However, it didn’t stay there for long, it quickly moved to the first bed near the end of the room. What was really weird about the whole thing apart from not being able to see any thing,  it was almost as if I could honestly feel exactly how it moved across the bed. I can also tell you what ever it was, was small and didn’t move like any animal I knew of at the time or even now. It’s movement was odd, like it crawled but, awkwardly. How I knew this I really couldn’t tell you, as the bed mad no noise and there was no indentations be made on the bed as it moved along it. I must have been like a deer caught in the headlights at that moment because, I didn’t know what to do. Wasn’t sure if I should cry, yell mommy/daddy or just start screaming.  All I new was what ever it was, was heading towards me and I didn’t like the feeling I was getting from it. It soon  moved from one bed to the next. I followed along with the flashlight. By this point I could no longer handle what was happening and tried to cry loudly. But it was like I choked, I couldn’t make any noise when I opened my mouth I just stood in horror my light still on this invisible thing. When it got to the very edge of the bed, it was almost as if there was a stand off moment. I could just feel my heart pounding in my chest.
 
    It leaped from the bead into the rafter directly over the crib. Almost as soon as it mad it’s leap something in me finally snapped and I started screaming and cry in fear of what was about to happen. I got lucky my mom was close enough that with in moments of hearing me, I could already hear her making her way up the stairs frantically. I moved to side of the crib nearest the door. By this point I no longer cared to know what it was, I stood holding on to the cribs bars just wanting any one to put an end to what ever was going on. My mother no more came through the door way and I felt it move from the beam into the crib beside me. I just cried and screamed louder. Before, it had a chance to do what ever it was planning to do, I was grabbed up by my mom. Strangely rather than checking me over to see if I was hurt or say any thing like it’s ok, it was just a bad dream baby or any of the normal comforting words a parent would usually try to console a fearful child, she didn’t linger in the room. She merely grabbed me and with in a blink of an eye we where already heading back down stairs. I don’t remember any thing after that and I have never talked to her about the event in full. The only thing I was able to confirm was the details of the stairway and the lay out of the room and the fact that she had to retrieved me from the room that night as I was frantically crying and just down right distraught. That my friends was the first encounter I had ever had, at least that I can recall by my self.

(Intrusting fact: This may not have been my very first encounter of the unknown. My mom has told me that before, we had moved away from Kansas that I used to be very fond of the dark. I would often scare her as she would go to bring laundry into my nursery only to get the holy mother of god scared out of her because, she didn’t think any one was in there. As the door would be closed and the lights where not on. Considering how small I was it was not as though I could just get up and turn the lights off on my own. She would also hear me in the nursery buy my self with the lights off talking to seemingly no one. Something however, changed as one night I refused to even go into the house until my parents turned on the lights which was very unlike me. I would typically be the first one inside. I also from that point on have had to sleep with some kind of light on as I do not like the dark. A little food for thought.)

The Last few months I have begun working on a sculpture. As my computer is slowly dying and finishing art work on it is next to imposable. This sculpture is a test run to see the dos and don't in making a more final production. I have been lucky with only two real hick ups. the first trying to make a tongue and the lats one I learned the other day with resin... Just so you know I did look into resin but I never found any thing on Styrofoam and resin. Turns out resin doesn't play nice with Styrofoam even with a wax sealant. So if you are thinking of using an already safe to paint on Styrofoam, resin will still eat through it. Lucky for me it did not do to much damage to my project as it seemed to help add a little more character to it. I have switched to a supper clear high gloss mod-podge I should have the end results by the time I get home from work. So providing the podge plays nice with what I am doing my Tsukumogami sculpture should be done to night. I have already started another test subject as I want to see what it would look like with something I wish to add. If my Tsukumogamis turns out the way I would like them to then I hope to make more for some up coming craft fairs.

My challenger is ready to go in the 18x12 arena. I stare at it's white face engraved with deep grooves. trying to find its weakness, an idea hits and with a flick of my wrist, I strike. Shades of different colored blood stains it's white skin. My challenger Lies defeated against the easel.

Why, when we become, older does our past hunt us?
Our dreams of years ago, that never came to fruition and the pain that hunts it:
We think still of old rivals and of what we should have said or done.
Becoming enraged by mornings dun.
But why?
Why is it we can't let go and let the past be the past?
Is it because, we can still see those taunting faces?
Or maybe we can still hear those absurd whispers?
Or could it possibly be that uncanny laughter?
The answer my friend is simpler then one might think.
It's mans unwillingness to forget,
That is why our past hunts us.
So I say you; forget!
For when we forget and move on does ones past no longer consume and hunt us:
And thus a new day duns.

"Baa, baa, black sheep Have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full. One for the master, And one for the dame, And one for the little boy Who lives down the lane."
A simple children's song we sang while small, but then we get older and it's no longer a song.
Surly you could laugh and play with the rest?
I can laugh and play just like them,
But two things made me different.
It was just enough for them.
You want so bad to be part of their fold,
However, try as you may,
Try as you might, you won't.
You have been designated a black sheep from their herd.  
Surly you can fit in with your families herd?
Your never really truly or fully excepted,
Even with them.
You've messed up far too many time for the likes of them.
Great or small it was just enough.
You have been designated the black sheep of their herd.  
Surly you can fit in with the rest of those who's wool is black?
Your wool is to black.
Your more of a charcoal stay back.
Oh how even the black sheep judge.
You have been designated an unfit black sheep for that herd.
Surly a good shear  will do the trick, is not all sheep's skin soft and pink?
Sadly no, think again.
For I have tried the shears to look just like them,
With soft pink skin.
But we are merely mocked by them.
Our blemishes, freckles and  moles now judged.
How hideous that thing is, they now mock.  
Sadly, once a black sheep always a black sheep there is no end.
Surly some white pain will do the trick then?
They smell paint fumes and run from my wake.
In the end the rain washes it away.
You have been designated a black sheep until the bitter end.
So baa, baa, black sheep have I any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full. One from societies mocking gaze, and one for the families shaming gaze, and one for the very sins of my past.