This Story was sent to me by a friend name Yewande; its as compelling as its chilling.
My name is Yewande; i would leave out my surname because i do not want many friends to know what i have been through. While i was in secondary school i was referred to as a genius ; all i did was read; read and read; i had no friends; they could not keep up with my reading habits. What they did not realise was that I read so much because i didnot know how to make friends; mix with people as at that early age I already had anxiety issues where any crowd formed. My reading habits paid off because I won a scholarship to complete my secondary school education. That at least reduced the burden for my parents who had seven children all going to school at once as the age gap between a child and the next was not more than 2 years. .
When I was twelve years old and starting class 3 in secondary school; we were forced to read a book titled 'The Gods Have Come Again'. This book changed my life forever and till this day; I still struggle with reading with
books or articles that have anything to do with any form of atrocity. In the book;
The Gods Have Come Again; a book hailed as a master piece all over the world; in one of the scenes of the book; the main character killed his father and killed himself. Immediately after reading the book; I began to hear a voice asking me to take a knife and kill myself. The force with which this voice or feeling was coming at me I would not wish even my worst enemy. i thank my parents for introducing me to the Holy Rosary at an early age because that was all i knew to do to keep this feeling off which tormented me from morning till night everyday.
The torment was so severe that even till this day; how i survived i cannot say; I only pride myself that i was an appointed Child of God if not how could i have resisted such a force at that tender age that was so compelling th
at it is impossible to describe. My school work suffered; I started dropping subjects in school for no reason and started also dodging some tests because I was busy fighting for my life and could not cope with the rigorous r
outine of school work. I was so ashamed of what was going on i could not tell anyone. I resorted to writing letters to the televangelists we watched on television; got no reply ; even though cannot say if they got my letters.
When the holidays came I was so excited to go home and be with my family; What I didnot know was that the story that I read in the book was supposed to play out. My parents bedroom was next to mine . They always left their room open; never locked it. In the mddle of the night; this spirit will wake me up to go and kill my parents; the force or feeling pushing me to do this was unimaginable; it was sheer miracle that i didnot commit these murders; they only weapon used was to continue to pray and pray and pray with the rosary until the feeling leaves me. Sometimes th
is would take between 1 to 4 hours everyday. That had become my life till left secondary school. i would conclude this story by Yewande on another day; but be careful what your little child is reading being exposed to at a tender age
No comments:
Post a Comment