My life story pt.3

Part 3: Collateral

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The fights my parents had when I was a child were not as prevalent as they were in the final years of my mother's life. For the most part, I can remember a happy childhood. I had a best friend who was my father's best friend's son. My parents would play dungeons and dragons every other weekend with a handful of their closest friends. I had a sister who was a year and a half younger than me and eventually a brother who was 7 years younger than I.

Source

The desert next to Nellis Air Force base was my playground. I would explore the desert with my friends. We would find newspaper articles with the moon landing featured from 1969, old cars from the 50s, to even wooden stagecoaches! Mostly we rode bicycles on bike trails in the desert. Lots of grand memories roaming the desert. I was even granted entry into a runaways homeless shelter, in the desert at some random point in time.

Source

I can remember most of my childhood my Father had worked the graveyard shift. He was always sleeping during the day. So it was my mother and daycare centers/school that raised us, kids, mostly and even then I was expected to watch my siblings after school to obviously save money and everyone's precious time.

My parents had my younger brother in 1992. It was surprising that my parents had another child as their arguments were in full swing by this time. As a 9-year-old I was well aware of my dad's evil corrupt ways as a cop, our financial troubles, and the need to help my mother, as she was being physically abused and left to deal with her pain and us kids, with basic things like making us breakfast and coffee before work/school or even helping my mother from the couch to her bed when she couldn't walk. I think we all hoped having an addition to the family would help us tremendously, causing temporary delusionment from our current dilemas.

My mother had a Native American friend who practiced paganism, the good intentioned kind. She started going up there(Mt. Charleston) a lot with us kids. It had become quite clear that this demon was back, the same one that my parents had encountered back in the Mormon temple in Ceder City, Utah and it was here to stay using my father as a vessel. My mother had started bringing this incident up from Utah many years ago more frequently as my dad's persona dramatically changed and wanted to explain to her oldest son why dad was so different now. My mother had started putting charms and protective spells on us kids with the assistance of her friend. She was quite concerned about the evil that creeping into our lives. You see we were sleepwalking and having nightmares of ghosts. I even remember being wide awake and seeing a vivid looking couple robbing our house in the middle of the night. I was screaming but no noise would come out, I could punch my mother rapidly though. She awoke causing these people to disappear.

Even as a 9-year old, I chopped up my Fathers actions to being an abusive drunk. Little did I know that the true power of the metaphysical was to change all perceptions, all of us had in our family had about reality.

If anyone here doubts the true power of magic spells or your own spoken word than try breaking the tradition of family heirlooms. They are typically passed down from generation to the next under some sort of spoken or written agreement made by a usually long-deceased family member. This in my opinion/experience is a magic spell. I warn anyone who dares to break tradition set in play via a mandate/spell to think long and hard before playing with deals made on the universal level.

With the added pressure of having another child and all the further financial pressures it caused, my parent's relationship was nose diving. They needed to work on their relationship as everything in our family needed to be fixed and fixed fast. I felt it to not be fair, as I knew full well it was my father, whose drinking and violent outbursts were the problem. Even as a 9 year old child I knew this to be the problem. My Father had a solution and that was to use us kids as collateral against his mother. His mother and himself were not on good terms, she also lived in Fallon NV. Fallon was an 8-hour drive from Vegas. He had told us we were just simply visiting grandma one day and we could stay on her farm for the summers. We had no reason to not believe him. Until we finally arrived at my Grandmother's farm unannouncedto my Mother and Grandmother's surprise. While we were welcomed wholeheartedly it worried my mother immediately as she thought that this 8 hour trip to podunk Fallon had been planned out at least with more than just my father and himself.

Apparently, there was a Family heirloom my father had wanted since he was a child and in all fairness was supposed to be his, that is until his Mom had re-married a full-blooded Native American man and had a daughter with him. This family heirloom was a US gov issued shotgun from the 1800's. This gun's name was George. It was to be passed down to the youngest daughter of each generation in the family in order to provide protection. My Dad had now crafted a master plan to get this gun in his possession using his own kids as collateral. This event was the moment in time I can 'timestamp' as the point when reality became a scenic backdrop to the metaphysical. A spell was broken or rather disobeyed. Darkness and negativity seemed to have been unleashed during this event that lead to all the bad things in my childhood to become more exaggerated and rampant. Sleepwalking, violent arguments between my parents, you name it, all of it was much worse after this single event that used us innocent kids as collateral for a family heirloom that no longer was rightfully my father's but was soon to be his despite the rules set on this object. This event only showcased my fathers 'above the law' mentality and how as a Cop he felt bribes and collateral was how life worked.

"These are your grandkids. Do you love them?" My father asked his mother. "Yes, James I do." My father without any kind of remorse, in fact really in a heartless authoritive tone much like a cop would make said "Then give me George and you can have your grandkids for the summers."

"WHAT, NO!!!" My father's youngest half-sister had already started crying as she knew what was taking place.

Source

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Part 1
https://steemit.com/autobiography/@dynamicgreentk/my-life-story

Part 2
https://steemit.com/autobiography/@dynamicgreentk/my-life-story-pt-2

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