Possessed by Possession
Just experimenting with an Idea I had several years ago.
I can never forget when I met Emily. So faint, a slight murmur. A sense of sound in total emptiness. A single star in an empty universe without light. Just awareness of existence.
The sound gradually increased. A voice. I didn’t recognise it as a voice until it focussed into words. They made no sense, but I knew they were words. I felt drawn toward the voice. It was soothing, calming. It seemed to give strength. Little by little like an evaporating mist there was awareness of a language unfamiliar to me, but I felt its nuance.
‘Is there anybody there . . . Is there anybody there?’
Another sensation. Pain. I gained strength from the voice, but the pain grew worse. A heavy searing burning pain increasing until it was unbearable.
‘Pain pain, Stop pain.’ my senses cried out. I had no voice.
The voice stopped calling, I heard a gasp.
‘There’s something there, look it’s moving.’
Another voice, deeper and fainter. The words were strange, but I knew they were not for me. The pain subsided a little.
‘What does it say?’
A third voice asked. Then, the first voice.
‘P – A – I – N’
There was a faint jumble a mixture of all the voices.
‘Is there somebody there?’
The voice, much louder now, brought back pain, but I was getting stronger.
‘You . . . pain.’ My senses managed. There was silence for a while then the mumbling started again.
‘Y –O – U – P – A — I – N,’ I heard the original voice say.
There was more mumbled discussion. They seemed agitated. I didn’t know what was happening. The pain made me feel weak.
‘Do you want to hurt us?’
I heard the same voice calling me. I felt my strength return I felt nearer to it. I didn’t understand hurt. What did it mean? I tried to recall, but I was not strong enough.
‘Do you want to give us pain?’ The voice urgent, passionate.
I felt my strength surge. ‘Why would I want to give pain? Do I want to give pain?’
‘I am in pain,’ my senses cried.
Silence, there was silence for a long while. What I now know was about ten minutes.
‘It’s in pain,’ I heard the voice say to the others. There was more discussion. I could tell the voices were agitated.
‘Emily, we should stop this now.’ I heard the deeper voice.
‘No, wait I want to ask another thing.’ The first voice. Emily’s voice,
‘Why are you in pain?’ The passion in the voice gave me power to overcome the pain, but my strength was draining away.
‘I am so tired,’ was all I could manage.
There was a very long silence. Then the deeper voice once more.
‘Emily. Emily. Listen to me, we must stop this.’
‘Yes Emily, perhaps we should stop now.’ A softer voice.
‘Do you want to sleep now?’ It was Emily.
‘Speak to me. I am weak.’ My senses replied.
‘What is your name?’ Emily asked.
I felt a little stronger. What did she mean? A name? What is a name? I could sense nothing.
‘Are you there, can you hear me?’
‘Yes.’ My reply came quickly.
‘Emily, stop this.’
‘No.’
‘My name is Emily, what is your name?’
The words uttered with so much passion brought a rush of power and I could think clearly for a few seconds. My name came to me. I repeated it to myself, but I didn’t have the strength to say it. The pain returned.
Somehow Emily heard me. Emily speaking to the others and they repeated what she said.
‘J – E – S – U – S.’
I heard a scream from one of the voices. The deeper voice was shouting.
‘Emily stop this.’
‘Not yet.’ Emily shouted. ‘There is no danger, we have the Bible here.’
‘Is your name, Jesus?’ It didn’t sound familiar. I knew my name, but it didn’t sound like the way she said it. I was confused.
‘IS YOUR NAME JESUS?’ she repeated almost screaming.
The strength of passion in her rocked my senses and I felt an enormous thrust bring understanding.
‘I think so. I am so tired.’ The words left without my control.
‘Do you want to sleep, Jesus?’ I felt compassion in Emily’s voice. This new sensation made me feel calm. I forgot my pain. It seemed to be surrounding me. Her voice all around me.
‘Yes please.’
‘Then rest Jesus, maybe we will speak again one day.’
Darkness returned. As I faded I heard Emily’s voice.
‘I want to speak to Reverend Evans about this.’
I don’t know how long I slept. It could have been days, weeks or even months, but actually it was just a few weeks.
‘Is there anybody there?’ Emily’s voice called. It was very loud. I was inside it.
I came awake immediately, no slow dawning. I felt strong. Very strong. I felt different. I knew a lot more. I didn’t know why. There were other sensations. Warmth and coolness. I felt no pain, but I remembered it. It was under my control, but when I thought about it I felt another emotion. Anger. I didn’t know why I was angry about the pain I could not remember.
‘Is there anybody there? Emily repeated.
‘Hello, Emily.’ I surprised myself. I felt so strong. I had understanding, I knew her language. It scared me. Frightened by my own power.
‘Is that you . . . Jesus?’
Emily’s voice hushed. I felt a short sensation of coldness and nervousness. But it seemed outside of me.
‘I am here.’
‘Are you in pain?’
‘I have no pain. I am strong now.’
‘What is your name?’ Emily asked softly.
‘You know my name.’
‘Is it really Jesus, you didn’t seem very sure when we, um, spoke before.’ Again the cold sensation and fear. As before it seemed outside of me.
‘It is my name, but you said it wrongly.’
‘You seem much stronger now.’
‘You give me strength Emily.’
‘How do I give you strength? Her voice nearly a whisper.
‘I do not know. Your voice brings strength.’
‘Can I ask you a question?’
It was another voice, detached. Outside.
‘We are not alone.’ I said to myself.
It was Emily’s closest friend, Jane. They were having a séance.
‘How did I know this? What is happening to me? Why did I say we?’
‘I will answer if I can.’
I avoided mentioning Jane’s name in case she became as alarmed as I did when I realised I knew it.
‘What do you mean, we speak your name wrongly?”
‘It is pro . . . pro . . . said another way.’
‘How is your name pronounced? Jane asked.
I thought this was a silly question.
‘How can I tell you? I cannot speak.’
I heard Emily and Jane giggle.
‘I’m sorry. That was silly of me, but can you tell me, do you know another language?
‘My language is different.’
‘Is it Hebrew?’ Jane persisted.
‘What is Hebrew?’
‘The language of the Jews.’
‘What are Jews?’
‘The children of Israel.’ Jane whispered.
I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. All these questions were making me ache. There was much I didn’t know. I needed rest.
‘I am not a child, but I am getting tired.’
‘Do you want to sleep, Jesus?’
Emily spoke to me in a kind voice. I relaxed. I felt warmth.
‘Yes please.’
‘Then sleep Jesus, sleep.’
I retired, but I didn’t go to sleep. I realised Emily could not make me sleep if I didn’t want to. And I didn’t. I was curious. Emily was a curious being, I sensed her emotions. I wanted to find out more before I spoke again. I decided to stay quiet and rest in my darkness. I continued to hear their voices.
‘I don’t think it’s really Jesus,’ I heard Jane say, ‘nevertheless I agree with you Emily, you should discuss this with the Reverend. You should be careful, it seems so strong now.’
‘I don’t feel anything bad about it. He said I give it strength. I want to know more before I see the Reverend.’
‘Emily. . . .You said, He.’
That is how my story of possession began, but I was not the possessor. It was Emily. I was possessed by her passion for life. A passion that brought life to me.
An extremely inventive piece, driven, as most of your writing is, by the dialogue. I like the interior thoughts of the “being” and its desire to be, albeit through Emily.
Hi B
This is very much an experiment. This was originally an opening to several chapters I wrote about the ‘spirit.’ However, as the story progressed I went off on a tangent Emily got kind of left behind and I sort of lost direction.
I thought I’d have a go at finding a way to keep Emily in the story or construct a completely new one. It’s tricky.
BTW the name of the spirit is Jesús. It was not his original name it was given to him by ‘visitors’ to his village.
Inventive? Yes. Intriguing? Yes. Complex? Yes. I think it takes quite a bit of reading because of its complexity, but it was rewarding to get to the end with a sense of understanding. These subjects are (to use your word) tricky, aren’t they. The word/name ‘Egrigore’ came into my mind at the end, however because this might have been a ‘part ‘ of something longer I recognise that might not have been the way you were intending?
Allen
Hello Allen. I agree with complex. It is very difficult to plan the emergence of the spirit/entity and see it from its point of view, which I am trying to capture. As I said to B is was the opening part of a much longer thing, but I rather got lost or at least lost Emily as the story progress. I’m trying to work out where I take it from here. Its name is Jesús and pronounced with a soft J like in in Bach for example, like the Spanish say it, although ‘it’ is not Spanish. Thanks for reading… Read more »
Terrific Guaj – in the full sense of the meaning. I caught on at some point that this was a séance, and the entity was being brought back into consciousness. Also, Jesus is quite a common name in some cultures so I’m guessing this is a dead soul being brought back. Re seances, and especially Ouija boards, my very strong view is that they should be avoided at all costs – the problem being we won’t know who – or what we are conversing with.
Anyway, a brilliant piece, kept me riveted!
Dougie
Thank you Dougie. Yes ‘it’ is long dead and it’s name is the Spanish Jesús but he’s not Spanish. I’m trying to re build it from the original because I lost Emily as I digressed in the story. I found it difficult write from the entity’s POV and make sense though. Ouija boards are not things to be trifled with that’s for sure. We were told if we tried it just accept what you see and move on, never dwell on anything. Keep a Bible in the room, don’t do it after 10pm don’t drink don’t laugh and don’t ridicule… Read more »