3. The Blood of a Cursed Dreamer Will Flow.

• The Blood of a Cursed Dreamer Will Flow. 

I live in a house that is energetically and spiritually active as this is how my family is: we are souls who are attuned to the ebbs and flows of the energy of life, and our environment. Through genealogy the family I come from on this plane of being, we have ties to aristocracy and nobility generations ago in my ancestry; and magic courses through our veins. If we listen closely enough, we can hear the subtle pulse of that magic, as long as we are not caught up in the trivialities of our lives. 

Which is exactly where I am and what I am caught up in. And no, I am not listening to the ebbs and flows of energy and magic in my veins. Or rather, being caught up in the fact that I had a few successful shamanic journeys years before, and run with a little knowledge from my fiancé’s books, I fancy myself as a master and know it all: standing tall and standing proud. 

Yet we are lost in our lives. Because of my engagement, moving into my grandparents old apartment, and beginning to withdraw from the family as I include my future in law family into my life. My sister and I grow distant from each other even though we are the best of friends. We both begin to travel down our respective paths that lead us farther and farther from each other. The same is with my mother and I, unfortunately, as I continue to listen to my fiancé, and her mother. My mother sees my fiancé as a little girl tightly wound up in her own mother’s apron strings and shows no signs of personal growth of her own. But my mom says nothing. 

In the months and weeks that follow mere months before the wedding, I make many trips with my fiance and her mom to scope out a proper place to have the wedding ceremony. It isn’t long before the venue is located and chosen in a small town in the central valley of California – Ione. More precisely there is an old hotel standing there that has existed in one form or another since civil war era, and it is said to be haunted. 

A few months before the wedding the fiance and I take a trip to Ione to scope out this place. the whole way there I listen to stories of her childhood trips there where she would see things, feel things. I am honestly intrigued. When we get there we take a tour of the place and split up. I feel like there is a presence following me and watching me almost instantly after the fiance and I split up to investigate. As I go out and view the first floor balcony for the room she and I will stay that night, I feel the presence directly behind me. I whip around with a hand extended and visualize a shield forming outwards from my palm into a circular shield. It all happens so fast. I hear a child’s scream in my mind and when I lower my shield I envision a young girl running deeper into the building. But then I started feeling like an oppressive force is converging upon me. I double over in pain as my gut lights up within me. when I look forward I can see in my mind’s eye a civil war soldier directly in front of me with a rifle pointed at my gut. We both stand there staring at eachother while talking in my mind. He accuses me of threatening his family. I appologise excessively for the preception as I was acting on instinct and impulse, I truly didn’t mean to startle his little girl. After a while the soldier lowers his rifle, allowing for me to breathe a bit easier. The soldier then tells me in my mind that he is aware of who I am, and why I have come, but tells me that it will not work. He warns me never to return after the ceremony on pain of fulfilling his threats to shoot me. Before he leaves me he curses my name, curses the wedding to fail, and curses the ground near or around the building to become poison to me should I ever choose to return. With that said, the soldier turns away from me and vanishes. 

I stand there shaking inside and out for a moment. I was just cursed by a civil war soldier. But I stoic up and begin telling myself that curses are not real, and I meet back up with my fiancé. After an hour more we leave. When Ione is nicely in the distance however, I glance back at the disappearing town, and am frightened again by feeling the gaze of the soldier firmly upon me. When the town sinks and dissaperars into the horizon, the gaze is gone, and I breathe again. I tell my fiance about the experience, but leave out the part where the soldier curses the wedding to fail, and we continue our drive to Arroyo Grande. 

*** 

Then the week finally comes where I am married. I am wrapped up in my own trivialities and lost in a game of manipulation now, and swiftly loosing control of what it means to be myself. Before I leave for work one day; I am as happy as I can be, yet in an instant I become moody, and lethargic. I lay down to bed for a quick nap in the middle of the day: which is unusual for me unless there is something wrong, but the moment my head hits the pillow for sleep; my mind travels on a journey for the first time in years. 

In this adventure I am at a former place of work enjoying the company of friends for a joyous occasion, but the celebration is cut short as a dark mass manifests in the middle of the building. The dark figure solidifies into a demon and begins slaughtering my friends before my eyes. I run – but he blocks the entrances and prevents me from running. I am scared, and horrified; and snap back from the journey and run to my fiance and tell her what just happened. She noticed that my eyes have changed from hazel to black/red. Shocked as if stuck by a semi-truck, yet feeling that I need to resolve this journey I center myself and head back to the bed to finish the adventure. Again the instant my head hits the pillow I am back in the journey. This time though the building is empty of life and I look on in horror as all my friends are dismembered everywhere. The demon is not in the building, but I hear him calling for me outside. I am defenseless, and weaponless. I hear a sizzle from a staircase leading up to the street to the north east just in time to see the handle of a katana materialize in front of my eyes. I pick up the blade and quickly marvel at the black blade. But there is not time to think, I run outside to meet this demon who slaughtered my friends, and I will make him pay with his life. I confront him as he rips the last of my friends in half, and taunts me. Terrified to the point of petrification, I stand my ground until he makes his first move. Dodging his opening move, and since it’s been a few years since Iv’e fought with a blade, I am a bit clumsy at first – but I am quick to remember how to fight with the memories of Kendo and Jujitsu. The battle rages for days it seems, him ripping into my flesh, and me; slowly hacking away at his extremities. Eventually a couple days later, he is in pieces and beheaded upon the ground. I make a final stab upon the ground, piercing his still beating exposed heart, and finally kill him. Once the heart is dead, I pull the katana out of the dead organ and I stand there both crying over my first kill, and exhilarated that I’ve killed my first enemy.  

I remember looking down at my hands and noting that they are covered in dried, and freshly dripping blood: both mine, and his. I close my eyes, and I am back in bed: only an hour has passed since I returned to the journey. 

The day of the wedding, we return to the haunted building. I am shaking like a leaf in the wind. Not only am I nervous, but I remember the soldier’s curses upon me and the ground I walk upon. I feel the pulse of the energy to the place, but sense the soldier watching from a distance: I cant’t sense the little girl which is probably for the best. I meet the Shaman who is officiating the event, and at one point he pulls me aside to complement me on getting married, and that he doesn’t usually perform events for white folks in the Sacramento valley: as he is Native American, but as a minor side note that I think ties into what I was warned about; the officiant mentions that the ceremony and the event didn’t feel right. But the night proceeded onwards, without a hitch even though two members of our respective members of our family have to leave due to personal issues. 

The reception small and I can sense the tension between my family and my now mother in-law, but neither side of the family comment or say anything. This event is for my wife and I; and now I have more than a stirring feeling in the back of my mind… the feeling is nagging at me that I am betraying myself. Again, I ignore the feeling as my wife and I enjoy the kind words both sides say about us, and as we eat cake: and dance. 

The night ends with opening gifts then retiring for the night. My wife and I go upstairs for the night: we figure that it would be an amazing experience to do some Ghost Hunting in the room. I pull out my camera phone, and snap a few pictures. One particular picture stands out from all of them. Normally with taking pictures you would see orbs or insects or small discolorations of some kind in the photo: all of the pictures are crystal clear and void of all distortions. Except for one. The picture is of a corner of the room across from where I stand; you can see the bed clearly in the picture with my wife sitting on the bed, and there was a mirror on the adjacent wall. The picture is again crystal clear with the exception of my wife’s face which is heavily distorted and unrecognizable; which is odd because the mirror behind her; which she is in too, is distortion free. There are multiple pictures of this corner, but this one shot is the only one that shows anything. 

Only a few short months later; both my wife and I loose our jobs. But in between the wedding and the beginning of the new year and a recent idea of moving to Oregon so my mother in-law can be closer to her son in law begins to come up. My wife and I discuss the idea, and both agree, and we are invited to join: the only catch is that I keep this a secret from my family. I don’t like the idea, but agree with it; once again in the name of love and keeping harmony in my new family. Before we lose our jobs we both are financially stable, yet overspend ourselves frequently and the topic of money is a hot topic to us. I cant handle one of our arguments so one night I leave the house for a walk. I walk a mile outside of town on a clear full moon night and pleaded to the Goddess of the Moon for life to change. I begged for a new beginning where I will flourish. I beg for an instance and a situation where I can regain an ounce of control in my life. Loosing hope in my prayers, I turn on my heels to return home. It is right as I am a few steps on the way home that the answer comes as a whisper to me in my mind: “As you wish.”  

The year I lose my job is 2010, and I am twenty-six years old. 

***