The Wind

The walls began to visually pour with black blood in good old horror-movie fashion. Clearly this was done to intensify my fear and at the time the effect was horrific, although I didn’t have a moment in which to panic. With what little self control I had left I managed to get back into my body a couple more times, whereupon I made desperate but vain attempts to awaken the witch man beside me.

When I managed to speak – this took a monumental effort – my voice sounded strangulated and barely audible, shocking to hear. When I next got ripped out I was more horrified than ever to find that I’d brought the sleeping self of the witch with me.

I dropped him immediately and I confess that I blamed him at that moment for what was happening, considering that he had encouraged the force to come after me and had failed utterly in his promise to protect me.

Alone in the corner of the ceiling, mortally afraid and pinned into place by the wind, I gathered my thoughts enough to move along the wall, away from the large (closed) double windows where the wind seemed to be coming from.

The Witch

This happened more than 14 years ago.

One night without warning, between 1.00 and 2.00 am, the source of my darkest fears – the demon itself which had haunted and pursued me throughout my entire childhood and adolescence – returned with a vengeance and ripped me out of my body within seconds of me lying down in bed.

I was completely sober and fully conscious. The only way it can be described at this point is as a hurricane-like silent wind that was at one with the darkness.

I was aware of the time because the bed had no headboard and during the struggle I was able to force my head back over the edge, putting my upside-down vision into line with the clock on the video recorder.

Every time I managed to fight my way back into my body (an enormous struggle of to-ing and fro-ing which lasted about 15 or 20 minutes) I would check on the time in a desperate attempt to keep a grip on the waking world; on ‘reality’.

At a certain point the force proved too strong and I found myself blown against a corner of the ceiling, looking down at my own body and that of my (then) boyfriend. The ‘witch’.