Letters to the Chapel: The Devil Inside

Posted: October 21, 2015 in Uncategorized

Have you ever heard the song “Amazing Grace”? If you have ever went to any funeral or church service, I am sure you have. Well if you are sinner let me give you a taste of the song. In the beginning of the song there are a few lines that everyone should know. They are “I once was lost but now I am found. Was blind but now I see.” I like to think of another line to add to the song, in which sums up this story perfectly, this line is “I was full of the devil, but knew no difference.”
I was full of the devil, and knew no difference is how I was in seventh grade. I was full of the hatred of the devil, Satan, Lucifer. And though I had no idea that I was full of the darkness, it began to show through the actions of destroying my precious temple. The skies in my life were perfectly blue, but even in the clearest skies, a tornado can form, I guess.
It was shortly after I began this group, that they showed me who I was and who I needed to become. This was without my consent of course, but if I was going to keep attending then I needed to at least go along with it. I started to interact with the members more, I stood for more than one song at one point, but after the third song, I chose to sit-my-butt-down. The members were slow to get on me about doing so, it was as if they knew that later down the road, I would change my ways and follow their bread crumbs. But this story is at the beginning of that journey, so lets not get ahead of ourselves.
So as I began to get more into each session, I fought less to go. Though the days of the session were the only day I got to sleep in, I knew that after the group meeting, I would get a soda, candy bar, and a full day to watch Sportscenter and play Basketball. This was about the only highlight of these days, but it beat hearing my dad grumble about not going. So I would act a certain way one day, then go to school and live the way I wanted to, this included my nightly activities with girls on the phone. But eventually my side games caught up to me, when I began to give myself long and deep burns on my arm.
Though I was happy with who I was, without a mother in my life, I found myself always depressed. I found using an eraser against my wrist, didn’t give me my mother back, but it redirected the pain to another part of the body forcing it away from my heart. I gave myself a dozen of these little burns, never getting too big, because I knew if my dad ever found out about the self-harming, he would question why I would do such a thing. I mean that is what a father is suppose to do, but I didn’t want to answer that question, I wasn’t ready to talk about my hurt. I figured it would eventually go away. He found out about the burns shortly after I started.
It was a usual day at school, I would go there, act cool with my friends, and hit on all the girls, but inside my heart was slowly crying for more than I could give. The night activities weren’t enough, the pain was overbearing. I escaped one night, into my happy place, when I came back into reality, my wrist was burning more than it did when I burned myself before. This was because I had gone deeper and longer than I usually would go. I remember staying up that whole night knowing that I fucked up. I knew that the meeting with those weirdos was the next day, and I would have to explain to them why I had a wound on my wrist. I figured I would just wear a long-sleeve t-shirt and keep it hidden then explain to my father than I hurt myself in a sport at school, but that didn’t happen the way I wanted it too.
In the middle of some of the new songs they played, I got a little too fake and started to clap. Well when I began to clap, the t-shirt sleeve revealed the wound as it rolled down my fore-arm. I didn’t notice for a few moments, but when I did I quickly stopped clapping and got nervous, since my dad had looked over and saw the wound. I am shocked that he didn’t ask me Immediately what the burn was, but what he did was worse.
He told the group that I needed some help with the demon inside of me, they were quick to stop everything that they were in the middle of, and anoint me with this horrible-smelling oil. They began to speak in another tongue that got my heart racing. I thought they were casting a devil into me, but little did I know, they were casting a devil out of me. I was possessed by I believe, Isabel or something to that extent. I know they thought that I was under the control of Satan. This was the first of hearing about this, I wish I would have known, I would have left a damn blanket for him to snuggle in. Now don’t take that wrong, I would never invite Satan to come into my body, I am just annoyed that they went to that extent to say that I was housing pure evil. I was offended but that wasn’t the worse part.
After they forced me to admit that I was possessed, they then forced me to say words that at the time, I didn’t want to say! They wanted me to explain to the whole group why I thought that the devil wanted to take over my body, and how I wasn’t going to allow that to happen, as I said no to doing so, they assumed that they devil had not come out of my body, so they tried to push deeper into my belly. Which to be honest, I had burritos the night before, so if they pressed to hard, I would probably shit on the floor. Then knowing that group, they would of picked up the poop and called it Satan and dance with it, singing “ It has come out of this boys behind, he was lost but now found and now isn’t blind!”
That day was the last day that I wanted to go to that group, I was so embarrassed with how they treated me. They acted as if I were a baby that just swallowed something that I needed not to. They were sticking their dirty finger in my throat trying to get the darkness, but in the end all they did was make me hate the light even more. I was done with that place, I was done with the letter that I had started in that chapel. 

Impromtdude @ Facebook.com/impromtdude


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