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(MSDWC) Disembodied Revenge

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posted on Aug, 9 2007 @ 01:08 PM
Disembodied Revenge

This story happened during a visit to Germany back in 1986. It is an actual account of one of my life's experiences.
I was travelling with friends to Hamburg, Germany and we stayed in a flat that overlooked the river.The flat itself was several stories high and we stayed on about the 3rd floor. There were connecting balconies on the outside of the building that were accessible through large 10 foot high French doors.
When we arrived at the flat, the host took us on a tour of the place and showed each of us to the rooms we would be staying in. To the right side of the front door was a room that struck me right off and I asked him "what about that room?", he just told me "oh you don't want to go in there".
Being the curious type I did not settle for his answer and pressed him to at least take a look. He opened the door and the room was empty except for one of those folding wooden laundry racks standing in the middle with a sweater stretched out on it.The ceilings were at least 18 ft. high and embellished with beautiful hand carved crown mouldings. The room was approximately 20X20.
I really wanted to stay in it and at first he refused. He told me that it would not be good as it has been vacant and no one goes in there. After several failed attempts at convincing him to allow me to stay in it he finally agreed.
I set up a futon on the floor to the right side of the room in about the middle of the wall, depositing my luggage across the room to the left of the door.
The first couple of days we took off and toured around the country and traveled to the north of France and visited several different locations of interest.
Exhausted, I retired to my room and decided to just relax and do a meditation before we all met for dinner that night. I began by doing a simple Vipassana breathing exercise where you just relax on your back and watch your incoming and outgoing breath. At some point I saw a brilliant blue light in the distance in the third eye region of my forehead. Naturally I began to breath into it, with each inhalation it got closer until finally I became one with the source.
At some point the host entered my room and quietly left assuming I was in a deep state of sleep. Interestingly as he entered the living room and began to speak in German to the other guests I could understand every word although I had never spoken a word of German before.
I could travel while in this state to anyplace I chose to go but that is another story. Let me also interject that I heard later each country has an auric color to it and that Germany's happened to be blue.
At some point I came back to realize hunger and thirst, so got up to get a drink and look for a nibble in the kitchen which was right across the hall from where I stayed. Against the wall was an old grandfather clock and the time was 2:30 am.
The following morning was like a cornucopia of delight as my friends went all out on the breakfast table. They put out everything you could imagine, from jams and hot baked breads to fresh eggs served hard boiled on sweet little egg cups, to fresh fruits and the best hot drinks and coffee.
I asked them a couple of questions about what they had talked about the night before and they were stumped. They said they did not know I spoke German, I said I don't. Well they told me they were all speaking in German to my surprise.
The visit was very normal as it goes however I did notice they had a couple of pets, a small dog and cat that would never come into my room but that would jump on my lap as soon as I came out to the living areas. Now pets have always loved me but this was strange. I did not think anything about it at first, but when I would carry them into the room they would fight desperately to escape.
The juice of this story begins now. I continued to experiment with the 'Blue Meditation" and most days I would retreat to my room and stay there for many hours at a time. My friends and host began to think me very strange and I was still experimenting and did not tell them why I would stay in the room for up to 10 hours at a time. You see the meditation was outside time as we know it. Now I do not know if it had anything to do with what happened next or not but suffice it to say that it opened a part of my self that otherwise would have or should have remained dormant.
Although I loved visiting the local hot spots and dancing 'til dawn, I began to feel more like remaining in and practicing the meditation.
A few nights after arriving, I began to dream about an old woman who lived in the flat many years before, when it was new and a prestigious place to live. At first the dreams were just snippets from her life. What I figured out about her and her life was this;
The old woman was bitter, paranoid and angry. She had been the wife of a soldier that was in command of the personal effects of the Nazi prisoners of war.
Her husband did very well and after the war had amassed a fortune which he turned into a steel business. He employed many men and was quite successful.
Eventually he died and left his small little wife alone in the flat where I was now staying.
Having kept the secrets of her husband's life was enough to make her paranoid and angry. Yet again that is another story.
What did happen was that due to reasons we will not go into here, the couple never had a child. They did however have a nephew who was as rough and sinister as his uncle who had left all the business to his partner and wife.
She had never set foot in the steel mill and had kept the right hand man of her husband to run the company, giving her an allowance that she never even touched.
She was the ultimate miser. Raising the nephew as poor and ragged as any of the poorest families in Germany during the pre Hitler era only caused him to resent and loathe his aunt.
In the dream it was as if I would become the old woman. I would feel what she felt and knew her every thought. Each night a new part of the story began to unfold, and each night I would awaken at precisely 2:30am. I would have to run from the room to shake off the dream and, not wanting to tell anyone what was going on, began to become rather unpopular as my friends and host thought I may be mentally unbalanced, depressed or worse. My looks had changed from a fresh young college look to a tired, thin and pale one with obvious dark circles and my attitude was becoming even darker.
One night prior to awakening at the same time, I was dreaming about the nephew, I saw him through her eyes as she peered out the glass of the French doors at the ground level where she watched as the nephew came in in his usual after work drunken loud obnoxious manner, stumbling up the steps to toward the front of the building.
She went over to the door of her room and made certain the lock on her door was secured.
The nephew came in and as he most often did began to rap on her door shouting obscenities through the door to his aunt to come out. In fear and distrust she as always of late ignored him and instead carried her frail carriage to the bed on the right side of the room at about the middle of the wall.
The nephew was friends and confidant with the neighbors next door, across the hall and had began to devise a plan to rid themselves of the old unwanted aunt and to redistribute her hoards of money into his greedy hands.The neighbors were part of the plan as they were as greedy as the nephew and at the promise of a life of luxury were very content to go along with what ever the nephew wished for them to do.They would sometimes sit for hours sharing a bottle and making their plans for the future.
They had decided that on the final night the nephew would cross over to the balcony from outside the aunts room and enter to kill her in her bed as she slept with a pillow over her shrunken wrinkled face.
It was a little scary crossing over as there was about 3 ft. between the balconies, but he did it with ease. Shaking and pushing on the doors, rattling loudly, it woke me up, I dashed from the room and the time was 2:30am.
The next night as I slipped into the old woman, I could feel her energy like a dark gray cloud over my soul. She was insistent on entering my body to free her self from her dark world into mine. I watched as the familiar scene unfolded and felt helpless as I slipped into the old woman once again.
This time the nephew was knocking at the door and saying in a sickly sweet voice, "Auntie, please open the door for me, will you please ? I have your favorite tea and some fresh bakery bread just like you used to enjoy...:" The old woman thought for a moment about her hunger and tea did sound good, but still unsure she listened as her nephew continued to beg from the other side of the locked door.Finally the old woman deciding that it had been ages since she knew the company of anyone, decided to open the door.
There stood the nephew with a steaming hot cup of tea and a small saucer of bread. She cautiously opened the door and allowed him in. They sat on the side of her bed and he spoke softly and warmly asking that she trust him and allow him to be the only living relative in a way that they both were in need of. Something in the old woman told her to run him out, to not trust him or anyone, that he only wanted what she would not give. Placing the tray beside her he waited as she decided to take the tea. The old woman raised the cup and drank deeply in trust and instantly grasped her bleeding gums, catching the first of the entire mouth full of teeth that were to fall, she looked up into his now laughing twisted dark face and knew, it was over.
I awoke screaming in pain and agony unable to shake the presence of death that surrounded me. Sitting up on the side of the futon grasping my mouth and letting go of the panicked feeling as the acid burned down my throat and watching as the entire inside of my mouth fell into my steaming hot hands, I looked up to see the dark gray cloud above my head. It was attempting to enter my very soul. It needed me,was giving all it had to enter me, to exact the revenge she wanted for the nephew.
In a state of partial paralysis, I struggled to get up and run from the room. The clock read 2:30am.
The host woke me the following morning on the couch in the living room. At breakfast I finally told everyone what had happened and astounded, they asked me who had told me that story? Insisting that someone in the building had told me about the old woman who had committed suicide by drinking laced tea, I freaked! It turned out that it was common knowledge what had happened although the official story was considerably different than my experience.
The host also shared with me the fact that when he bought the flat, that the men he hired to paint the place had left in the middle of the job never to return and would not give any reason why they left all of their equipment, paint, ladders and supplies in the room where I had stayed.
I figured that the pets would now return, so taking first the dog and placing him down on the floor , he sniffed around and then casually walked out. I thought, well, thats better. Perhaps it was all some strange connection because of the meditation? Perhaps it simply opened my cognition to the sensitivity of the death and the energy of it. Having had experiences with spirit entities prior to this, I figured perhaps all is well now.
That night I awoke to the old woman screeching at me , the French doors rattling and sounding as if someone was attempting to bash them in. I tried to jump up to run out of the room and when I opened my eyes, I saw the dark gray cloud swirling like a storm over my head. The face of the woman contorted and angry, she was getting closer to me and I was frozen! I could not move, my body was paralyzed. Lying on my back I shouted out for my higher self, for my Master. The rattling stopped and I was able to run out of the room, the time was 2:30am.
I understood that the woman was miserable and that she actually plotted to enter a body to exact her revenge.`I had to do something to stop her, but how? I couldn't possibly do it alone, I would need help.
Talking to my friends girlfriend I explained that we were going to have to do an exorcism of sorts. We would have to hold a ceremony to rid the flat of her presence and help to transcend into her next life. No one would help, and they insisted that I stay out of the room entirely. That night after everyone had gone to sleep I slipped into the room with 4 white candles.
I had discovered a spot on the floor during my stay that looked as if it had been previously burnt. This was where i decided to place the candles. Setting one candle in each direction north south east and west, I lit them while praying to the directions and to the elements. At once the blue light that I had been experimenting with surrounded me and the winds began to rush around me as if the doors were wide open. I saw in the distance an old man sitting by the rivers edge in meditation as the evening sun was setting. I was part of a crowd of young boys running wild in the old streets of someplace in India. We ran up on the man and began to throw rocks at him, laughing and criticizing him for being a poor beggar. It got out of control and one of the rocks thrown hit him in the temple and the man slumped down into the river and drifted away.
Crying from the depths of my soul as I realized I had killed my Master in a past life! I had never forgiven myself and was controlled by my guilt. I did not have the power to exercise this spirit when I myself was so full of my past transgressions.
The winds had stopped and the candles burned calmly as I sat down and began to go inside to connect with my inner self. My deepest core of being needed to be forgiven. But to whom do I ask forgiveness? It was at that point I had the realization that "I" had to forgive me.That I had carried this energy with myself through life times.
Tears flowed not only from my eyes but seemingly from every pore in my being.The tears were all I had to cleanse my soul.
When it was finished, I rose up and stood facing the candles knowing that I now had the strength to complete the task.
Calling upon the elements from nature to help, to join me in sending the widow back to point where she would begin again.
The French doors flung open and a dark storm seemed to envelope the room. I walked over and shut the doors and as I turned back around the room had become engulfed in the dark gray matter, swirling around the room again.The old woman was determined that her infinity of hate was enough to win this battle. Calling for her to transcend into the next realm, she swooped down and began attempting to enter my body. It felt as if a stiffening of my limbs prevented me from moving, so closing my eyes I moved into the blue light as a source of protection and safety.
All at once the screeching sound was deafening and I felt as if I lost all equilibrium, not sure which direction was up like a diver that has gone too deep in the ocean, I called on my Master to help me.
The room became silent, the candles burnt out, I looked around the room and all was calm. I walked out of the room, it was 2:30am.
The next day I was preparing to leave to go back to the States, I had taken the futon and my belongings back into the room the night before because I knew, the room was now 'clean'. As soon as I opened the door the pets came rushing into the room and jumped up on the futon and my suitcases as if to give further proof the room was indeed clean.
him? I know he has the old steel mill still to this day. And I know he knows the truth. As he
suppose climbed the ladder of success, I wonder how often he worried about the truth getting out?
I have often wondered about the nephew and what he would think if he knew what I know about how he eliminated the only people that really knew the truth long ago. And now who knows?


Minor edit as requested by author

[edit on 9/8/07 by masqua]

posted on Aug, 9 2007 @ 03:52 PM
Disembodied Revenge II

Before leaving on the afternoon train for the airport in Amsterdam , I began to make mistakes. First of all I had gone out for a short walk to clear my head and think about the experience that had been happening since I arrived. Already I was beginning to get the color back in my face and was feeling more like myself. I decided to go pick up some souvenirs for my family back in the states.
When I returned to the flat the word about my experiences were traveling fast and I was greeted by a couple of young women who invited me in for a cup of tea. They wanted to know everything about my supposed dreams. I sat for over an hour telling them everything in minute detail. They questioned me about the nephew and who he could have become over the years and I had no idea because in the dream it was from the prospective of the old woman not the nephew. Once they had asked all they needed to I excused myself to go and finish packing.
Stepping into the antique wrought iron elevator and shutting the gates, I pressed the button for the 3rd floor and the rickety old elevator began its shaky and jittery slow movement upwards. Thinking about what the women had asked me I began to get the feeling that I wished I had not accepted their offer of tea, and instead would have kept the story to myself. Although they had agreed the story was accurate, they were shocked when it came to light that it had been the nephew. As the elevator reached my floor, I heard the phone ringing loudly and with a bit of a struggle (and a bit of fear) I pushed aside the metal door and began fumbling for the key.
Opening the door I made it to the phone and when I answered hello there was a dead silence and then a click.
A cold shiver ran down my spine and I headed for the kitchen to get a drink of water. I guess I was still feeling the effects of the dark battle with the old woman and was a bit depleted from keeping her from entering my soul. Walking onto the room I petted the cat that was curled up on the top of my suitcase and began to finish my packing. Again the phone rang.
I hurried into the office which was adjacent to the room where I was staying and picked up the receiver. It was a muffled man's voice on the other end and he told me he was from the offices of Interpol. I said in a shaky voice , "the host was not home at present and that I was simply a guest." He spoke rapidly and softly as if trying not to be heard by those around him and said "you must listen to what I am going to tell you, I cannot take the chance of calling again." I tried to stammer and say, "but I am not even from this country" He cut me off and began in hushed tones to tell me about an American multi-billionaire who had been arrested in the states,and gave me the number of his family to call and inform them immediately before the press gets hold of this. After making sure that I got the number correct he promptly hung up. Standing looking down at the number in my now shaking hand I slowly placed the receiver back on its cradle.
Something was going on here and it was getting deeper by the moment. One thing I knew for certain was that I was going to kiss the ground once I arrived back in America.
Debating in my mind for a few torturous moments how Interpol ( I am really not certain that was the agency) what ever the heck that was (sounded official) would insist I get involved was beyond my comprehension. Luckily at that moment the friends I had tagged along with to Germany in the first place came walking through the door. I quickly gave them the number and told of the manner in which the information was delivered. They couldn't believe me at first thinking this was more of my blue light strangeness. I insisted that was not it, that this just happened and so they took it from there and called the host. I stepped out of the room as I did not want or need any more involvement or strangeness period.
It was late afternoon by the time we headed out the door for the train station. Only having a few American dollars left because of my early departure and therefore not having the luxury of my friends money to accompany my trip home I said my good byes and set off on train for the long trip to Amsterdam.
As I put distance behind me I began to get a most eerie feeling of aloneness. I mean really alone, like that all of the events had somehow left a scar on me perhaps not visible physically, but on the inside. My appetite had suddenly returned and I settled for a croissant and a cup of rich thick black coffee. After departing the train and having to walk what seemed like 1/2 mile to get out of the train station I finally reached the streets where the rain had begun to come in a down pour. Not knowing which way to go for the airport bus I began to ask people how to get a bus or cab to the airport. They all told me in turn that the Airport had been shut down for some unknown reason just that afternoon. What I said with my dwindling now 5 American dollars in my pocket? The airport transportation is also not operating from the train station because of the closure.
Now I am beginning to get odd people coming up asking me if I want anything from hashish to sex to cheap hotels. "This can't be!" I said out loud to anyone that would listen. They began to disperse away from me as if that unseen scar had hit them square between their eyes.
It was becoming dark and the bags I was carrying were becoming like gold bricks in my hands and arms. I was looking around the square where I was standing beginning to feel the cold seep into my bones and noticed the tears cascading down my face in a fast rolling stream. My heart broke for myself at this point and just as I was about to give in to this moment of let go I saw from about 100 feet away a man walk past a booth that looked incredibly familiar. I walked over to where I saw him and sure enough I did know the man! It was an old friend from America I had not seen in years.
He greeted me with a half question as he said my name and I said "yes" its me!. He asked what I was doing here and I told him I was on my way to airport and a how the weird people kept coming up to me offering all sorts of things, he laughed and said "welcome to Amsterdam" I felt a rush of relief as I looked into his big burly bearded face and asked him how I get to the airport, he said right here. This is where you pick up the bus ticket to the airport. After purchasing the ticket I only had 2 USD left.
I made it to the airport although I knew it had been closed mysteriously, there was no other choice as I had no money for a hotel. I figured I could get a little bite to eat and sit and wait until the airport reopened.Now normally when the airport closes the restaurants remain open but for some reason they had closed even the ticket booths and the all the restaurants and kiosks. Not even a vending machine was available.
The airport was deserted except for a few stranded passengers like my self that were dispersed through out the terminals. I sat down and befriended a kind older woman of Dutch decent. She showed me that she was smuggling a salmon for her x-mas dinner in America where she had lived for 25 years and raised her family.Through out the night we spoke about everything from family to current events.
At around 4 am they began to take tickets in the area where I was to get on board. As I walked through to the baggage claim area I noticed a commotion behind me and there was security carrying the old woman now looking back over the militarily dressed man who was carrying her over his shoulder and away from where I was. Ithought wow all this because of a little salmon? As a matter of fact all of the passengers were being lead away from that area. The old woman had her hands outstretched in my direction screaming "No! Please you've got it wrong shes not..." I couldn't hear any more she was saying as the cuffed a hand over her mouth prevented me from hearing anymore, and carried her away swiftly.
I turned and now being greeted by the El Al airlines manager, he asked me in a most polite voice to set my bags down on the conveyor. As soon as I did out from behind the curtain and streaming from behind me came a militia of uniformed military with automatic machine guns pointed at my head. I was told that if I as much as moved a finger they had shoot to kill orders. Standing at the entrance to the plane boarding area surrounded on all 4 sides by the Israeli military in a far away land I knew that there was a price to pay for having involved myself and exposing one of the most powerful industrialists in Germany.
It seemed unreal and I couldn't help but be attracted to the good looking soldier standing in front of me with shoot to kill orders. Well I may as well relax because one thing for certain if this turned any uglier it would certainly be a swift death. I had the feeling that the soldier was trained in more than just holding a gun, he seemed to be able to read my thoughts.
Finally the management had who ever it was he was waiting for to arrive nad they together had me in for questioning.
They wanted to know what was in my bags, I said all the usual things, nothing out of the ordinary and then I recalled my friend asking if I would carry some bottles of lotion for him back to America. I actually did not remember this until they questioned me, as he had placed the lotions in my bags after I had already packed.
They confiscated the lotions and I was able to board the plane and the airport reopened.
Now this is certainly not the end of this story as it leads into even greater dangers than just this as time went on. One thing for sure the questions I had kept me awake for most of the 23 hour flight back to the States. Did the nephew have something to do with my treatment at the airport and of its mysterious closing? Had the women at the flat actually been his moles? Was the woman with the salmon placed there to extract information? Were my friends involved having known that I had previously had experience with exorcism? How did the Host fit into the mix? How did the multi billionaire fit in to the story? And why would someone at Interpol trust me with information?
I began what was to become a life long search and hide for answers and to keep a low profile. I also thought it best to leave out a few key parts to my story as it would be much safer that way. But if anyone here is able to ask the right questions I promise to answer them honestly. Remember that the paranormal plays a strong role in the reality of deep inner politics and the true mysteries of life.
In closing all I can say is that I have been lead in a sense to ATS, to find the missing pieces to a very old question.

posted on Aug, 9 2007 @ 04:24 PM
Help masqua! I can't get it right on the editing of the first part! The more I try the worse it gets. How embarrasing for poor antar.

posted on Aug, 9 2007 @ 04:26 PM
Leave it with me, antar. I'll read through this in about an hour and fix that up for you.

posted on Aug, 9 2007 @ 07:22 PM
Nice work antar, good first up effort. You kept my interest up right through to the end.


posted on Aug, 10 2007 @ 04:05 PM
OK guys give me a break... I admit on a scale from 10-fizzle, its probably closer to wa-wa-waaaaa.
I think other than the grammatical error's it is a good story line (true life often is) yet I have a problem with the bottom line.
There are so many tremendous writers here on ATS and you know who you are, you are more than welcome to critique my first attempt. Who knows maybe one day I will actually become competition!

Other than that I just wanted to say, Dang it's HOT here in the Midwest! Hot and Humid. Have a great weekend everyone!
Your friend Antar

posted on Aug, 10 2007 @ 04:33 PM
Hey i truly liked it antar. Grammer aside, some dialogue may have helped to break it up. But apart from that it was an interesting read, thats a good thing. If it ain't interesting people ain't gunna read it'. Keep it up.

posted on Aug, 14 2007 @ 07:15 AM
I agree with mojo!! Very cool story. Then i think of mine and hmmmmm... no comment. Yours was excellent. Mine was just an idea that came to me yesterday and then i started toi write without an idea of where it was going to go LOL

posted on Aug, 14 2007 @ 01:37 PM

Originally posted by shearder
Mine was just an idea that came to me yesterday and then i started toi write without an idea of where it was going to go LOL

All of mine are like that. The more time i put into thinking about where i want to go with a story the harder it seems to get to write. I guess thats why so many of my story's come unstuck towards the end, or so it seems to me anyway.

posted on Aug, 14 2007 @ 04:37 PM
Loved it, Antar!

Just when I thought it couldn't get more interesting, it did!

Can't wait for the next experience in story form


[edit on 8/14/2007 by seentoomuch]

posted on Aug, 16 2007 @ 02:54 PM
Well thank you so much for your kind words and comments! It is good to know that there are others out there like myself.
I can always begin a story but I have a hard time trying to bring it to a close.
I am banned from evertelling a story at Boy Scouts again... Over the camp fire one night I excused the younger children and warned any of the boys that scare easily to head to their tents. I really went on with the warnings because honestly I did not have an idea as to a story. I finally decided to start by telling them in this same camp ground over 20 years ago (ancient history to a group of 11 year olds)a group of young scouts had staked out their tents in this very camp ground... well just expounding on all the stories about the disappearance of all but one...ending with and it is said to this day they wander the camp grounds at midnight searching for the one boy that lived to escape, at this point the men scout leaders came charging out of the woods roaring after the kids. My son was the only one to sleep in the boys tents that night, all the rest went straight to their parents tents.

I do love to make up stories and I guess the hardest part is being original. This is why it is interesting to take real life and put a little or in some cases alot of spin on true personal stories. Now don't hold me to that one because some of my real life's experiences have been quite unbelievable.

posted on Aug, 16 2007 @ 02:57 PM
Oh also seentomuch, I can understand how you would love my story, after all you have had a life of paranormal experiences and so can understand more than alot of people that have to make a huge stretch to even remotely believe something this strange.

posted on Aug, 16 2007 @ 03:36 PM
Hi Antar! Lol! Bet you started a classic campfire story, it'll be told for generations to kids. You've got a gift, hope to read more.

Wish I was a creative writer, really though all I have to do is write a description of my life and it could pass as creative writing but you and I and others know it's true. Or I just look around me and report what I see.

Here's a good example:

Lol! Could have a field day writing 'bout the Mayor, he's a real character.

Keep up the good work, your real life adventures plus some spin as you said make for a fun, suspenseful, fascinating read.


Note: Had to edit to clarify some descriptions. Aaarrggh, wish I could write one post without editing!

[edit on 8/16/2007 by seentoomuch]

posted on Aug, 16 2007 @ 03:54 PM
I'm loving it! can't wait for more.
you've got everything in there, conspiracies, ghosts, Nancy Drew type sleuthing, the hint of a sexual rendevous ... wow!!.
I for one think it's bloody fantastique.
Thanks ever so much for writing it, I think you've done a great job at providing something my mind can make a movie out of.

posted on Aug, 16 2007 @ 04:49 PM
Ohh, thank you earth earthchild. I appreciate your encouraging words. There are some incredible stories in this contest and I for one am proud to be a part of the MSDWC. I love the fact that people are looking much deeper into my story than I ever dreamed they would. The only problem with short story writing is that it all has to be crammed into a few short pages. Like I said before though, it was fun writing my first piece. funny how what only takes minutes to read takes hours to write.
P.S. Thank goodness for spell check and the edit button

posted on Aug, 16 2007 @ 04:59 PM
SEENTOOMUCH! Don't deppress me! I was really looking forward to your short story! (Yelling at you with exclaimations!!!)I just knew for sure that you will write a winner. Now come on put down your worries and write us something that is true life with a spin! You can do it , I think you are a shining star and a positive example. Waiting.... Your friend Antar

posted on Oct, 27 2010 @ 04:00 PM
Sorry about the way I wrote this with no paragraphs, but this is a good story for Halloween as it is TRUE!!!


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