Hole in his Soul
12:39 p.m. on June 29, 2004
My Dad has always had a special connection with the universe. When he was 5 years old, he saw his mother sitting on the end of his bed just after she died. A little later he had an imaginary friend named Scratch. He played with him all the time & he swore he could see him & hear him. Then one day he found out that Scratch was another name for the Devil, so my Dad ditched him. Growing up, we had a ghost in our house named Windy Jones. He had died in the early 1900ís in the room that became my parentís bedroom. Whenever we heard a creak or a door would slam shut, we would say: Thereís Windy! My Dad always felt there was an evil presence in the house & even said that Windy threw an ashtray at me when I was quite young and then another, hitting me squarely in the back as I ran for cover. I believe him, but I do not remember. After my Mom died at home surrounded by us all, my Dad would see her, shrouded in white, standing in the bedroom. Once she even spoke to him, forgiving him of his sins. He claimed he wrestled with the evil presence one night & was almost choked to death. Somehow he was able to overpower the malevolent specter & tossed him out. He now swears that Windy Jones is gone for good and the love of my Mother dominates the house.



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