An Empath, a Welcomed Ghost & a Demon

(Kalee’s Stories: Part One)

When I posted my personal ghost experience and put out a plea for material from others, I was contacted by my sister who I had, unfortunately, lost touch with for quite some time. At any rate, her Facebook message said this “you do know I’m kinda a beacon, I’m an empath… some psychic abilities…” and so forth. I did not, in fact, know this, but, being the paranormally-studious type that I am, I was thrilled by her declaration and, knowing enough about the trials she’s overcome, was apt to believe her claims. So, we’ve had a number of conversations over the phone about her strange “gifts” and of her having “ghost stories, shadow stories and alien stories for days.”

Here I’m going to offer you a couple of highlights from our phone calls… submitted for your approval...

First off, before we get in to her story, it’s imperative to understand her type. An Empath is defined as “a person with the paranormal ability to apprehend the mental or emotional state of another.” I find that people with such abilities are like a sieve, through which beings of other dimensions sift their mysterious messages, presenting themselves and their otherwise unseen and unknown agendas. So, it would make sense that she sees and experiences things some of the rest of us (normal people) might miss… different frequencies and all that.

So, on to my sister, Kalee, and our multiple phone conversations…

When Kalee was 8 years old her friend, Diana, died. Kalee had just started her third-grade year at a new school, Peoria Christian, where she and Diana had instantly become best friends. Needless to say, she was distraught, a little traumatized, and this was perhaps the event that was the catalyst, awakening her abilities. Or, maybe they were there all along. It’s a little difficult to say. Kalee said she was never visited by Diana in a more translucent form, but it was shortly after this that things began happening.

The first signs of her “powers” came in the form of psychic abilities, knowing things she shouldn’t know. Numerous times things were lost around our house or my Grandma’s house, and Kalee would somehow lead people to the exact spot where the item in question was hidden. She remembers my dad asking her how she knew where these things were. She answered him truthfully, telling him she had no idea how she knew; she just knew.

What really got my attention in Kalee’s initial message to me was her claim to have seen my Grandma after she passed away. Grandma, Nada Jean, was a sweet, kind woman and all of us, her grandchildren, were deeply devoted to her and my Grandpa, Ken. I never realized how much Kalee had latched on to her when she was alive, clinging closely to her as one would a mother. She told me this later.

So, I asked her when she first saw Grandma (in ghost form, that is) and her answer, to my surprise, was right after the funeral. She said when the family got back in the car, Grandma was there, apparently riding along with us, away from her resting place. “Only she looked younger,” Kalee said, “like in her 30’s or something, but somehow I still knew it was her.” It shocked me to hear all this. I wish I would’ve known she was there. I would’ve at least whispered hello. She was the first person I was close to that left and I remember returning from college with a heavy, devastated heart, knowing she’d never hug me up in those robust, comforting Grandma arms.

Apparently, my sister had an ongoing relationship with Grandma. The visits began when Kalee was 10 years old and continued on through her high school and into adult life. I asked her if Grandma is still around, to which she replied, “no, I don’t see her anymore. Now I just feel her or catch a whiff of her perfume.” Kalee and I then talked about that perfume. I’m sure all of Grandma’s kids would remember it well. I’m pretty sure it was White Diamonds from Elizabeth Taylor but don’t hold me to that. If Kalee and I found some and gave it a good sniff we’d immediately and certainly know if that was right.

I asked my sister next if her gifts ever brought about anything negative. And… it did. There was one episode in particular that she says she will never forget…

When she was a little girl, Kalee shared a room with another one of my sisters. (I have 4 of them! And 2 brothers! A very full house it was. And, apparently, even more full than I always thought.) The girls had twin beds, one close to the door, the other by the window. Kalee had picked the one by the door… something about always being close to an exit.

On a particular night, my other sister was sleeping elsewhere and Kalee, 8 years old at the time, was left alone in the room. The girls, as I recall, had an eight-thirty or nine o’clock bedtime, so when she awoke at approximately three in the morning, she had been asleep for some time.

As Kalee tells it, she was roused from sleep by a foul odor she described as sulfuric or, as she would later so eloquently put it, “like one of Dad’s farts.” It was strong and foul and permeated the room. (Like one of Dad’s farts indeed!) Now, fully awake, she went to open her eyes. Before she did, however, she felt a hot breath on her face, bursts of burning inhales and exhales against her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut but the sensations persisted.

However she managed it, she willed herself to open her eyes and found she was nose to nose with a demon-like entity that hovered over her. She described the thing like this:

It had large black holes where its eyes should be… until it opened them. Then the eyes that were there were white, a glowing, piercing bright white. It had a thin, opened mouth, like an elderly person without their dentures. It was big. Very big! Its head was at least double my face but longer. It was a dark, black thing. Very dark! It was crouching by my bed, hanging over me.”

I think we’ll just call it a demon, okay?

Of course, this experience terrified her. She laid still, frozen with fear, realizing that this indeed was not a dream. She quickly accepted the idea that she was not still sleeping. She was very much awake. She described it like sleep-paralysis, her body glued to the bed. She recalls that she peed her pants at one point. She couldn’t scream. She just laid there, chilled to the bone, trying desperately to get away from the thing.

This experience wasn’t like a lot of sightings people have of otherworldly entities. It was not a brief flash or a glimpse… One of those, ‘did I see something?’… moments. No, Kalee had plenty of face-time with the demon, as it was hours that the thing remained on top of her. At some point during the visit the demon floated to the other side of the room. As Kalee tells it, she finally willed herself to move and fell from the bed to the floor. The thing, in turn, flew to a new spot next to the other bed.

Here, Kalee said, the ghastly figure crouched next to the other bed, near a dresser lined with clown dolls. (She said that was creepy in itself. Clowns! Why the clowns, parents?) The thing seemed to be dematerializing, but she could make out its head, its hands and its spine. As she tells it, the thing sort of dissolved in the morning light. “Daylight came and it snapped off, like when you’re in a dark room and someone turns on the light.” It had tormented her from three in the morning until sunrise.

A young girl recanting a tale like this is unlikely to be believed, and in some cases the child in question is introduced to pharmaceuticals to curb their strange imaginations. As for Kalee, there was talk of possible schizophrenia or other such malady. She ended up being ‘treated’ for her odd behavior.

I have had numerous conversations with my adult sister and I find her to be a brilliant, well spoken, sensible person. In other words, she’s not some loon. She’s also not a writer of supernatural stories and doesn’t spin yarns for thrills. She speaks of her experience in a very matter-of-fact manner, knowing it all happened, not really caring if she’s believed or not, and maybe, if only slightly, inconvenienced by the supernatural.

As with any “ghost story” you can take it or leave it. All I know is that the world is filled with mysterious, unexplainable things and sometimes some people get a peek at them. Kalee herself has “ghost stories, shadow stories and alien stories for days.” I’ve heard a few and I look forward to hearing some more. Come back and see me really soon and I’ll tell you about another strange encounter on a desert road leading to Area 51.

Cheers!

Chick

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