kristawrotethis

[kristawrotethis]

You: Creepypasta

Me, an Intellectual: Feartuccine Alfraido

[kristawrotethis]

When Mothers Pray

I don't spook easily, but there are times when I jump out of my skin at the slightest noise. One such time I was staying alone in the old farmhouse while my parents were off visiting a distant relative who was just out of the hospital and needing respit care.

I say I was alone, but there were three dogs, a cat, and a cockatiel named Jerry staying with me. I had the routine down to a science. Wake up, put the dogs out, feed the cat and the bird, let the dogs in, feed the dogs, fill and replace the water jugs for the animals, and then do some little bit of house work before relaxing for the rest of the morning. The afternoon was simpler. Walk the dogs, feed the dogs, cat, and bird, and feed myself. I rarely ate breakfast, and lunch was always a peanut butter sandwich. The house work was generally, clean up after myself, do the dishes, and wash my clothes. The dogs and cats were very well house trained, and scooping the kitty litter was nothing compared to crating the dogs before I left for Church or shopping.

Anyway, I was staying alone in the house while my parents were away. Late one night, as I was turning off the lights and settling down for the night, as I passed the kitchen doorway, I got very spooked. I mean, the hair stood up on my head, and instant goose bumps down my arms. I paused, and looked into the dark kitchen, but there was nothing there, and the blinds were all closed so no one was watching me from outside. So I shook the feeling off, and walked on down the hall to the downstairs guest bedroom. I should say that while my parents were away I slept down stairs to calm my mother's sense of safety. For some reason, she panicked if we slept upstairs while she was away, even if Dad was home.

Jerry's bird cage was outside the guest room, so I covered him up for the night, and herded the dogs into their beds in front of the closet. Placing the beds in the guest room was a necessity if one wanted to sleep without rolling over grumpy dachshunds. Since I wanted to sleep without fear, I placed the three beds in the walkway before the closet. Ducks insisted upon having a pillow and blanket, as she got cold at night, so I covered her up, and tucked her pillow under her downy chin, then turned the lights out.

I was probably in bed for about thirty minutes, and I was suddenly wide awake. My heart was beating feverishly, and the goose pimples were back. The hair on my body was slowly starting to petrify in the standing position. I was certain that there was something in the room with me that was not of the canine variety.

Somehow, I managed to turn the bedside light on, although I am not at all certain how it was that I did it. I surveyed the room. Nothing. I pulled myself out of my bed, grabbed the emergency light, turned off the bedside light, and opened the door into the hall way. No one, just myself and the dogs. Out in the hallway I could hear Jerry sleeping, but other than that, it was silent in the house.

Slowly, I made my way down the hall to the kitchen doorway, where I had felt that eeriness before. Nothing. Gaining bravery, I turned and made my way into the living room... Again, nothing was there. So I made my way through the living room to the front of the house, and down the three steps that married the Old part of the house to the New section.

There were three doors, one was for the basement, one was for the upstairs bedrooms, and the other was to the kitchen again, and then there was a short hallway to a dining room and the front parlor. My parent's bedroom was the formal parlor space, and Da had added a bathroom and walk in closet for Mom's convenience.

Since the basement door was locked, I moved to the up stairs door, opened it, and made my way up the stairs. No one was in any of the rooms, or the small attic room at the end of the hallway. So, I made my way back down the stairway, and down the hall to my parents' room. I cracked open the door. Nothing. I closed the door, and I felt the icy hand of fear trace its way down my spine.

I really didn't want to look behind me, but I did, turning the flashlight on as I turned. Nothing.

My hands were shaking almost violently. I felt like I could not catch my breath. Dread was upon me to the point that I thought I was about to die... But there was noting in the hall way with me, or in the front parlor.

Inching my way across the hall, I made my way into the front parlor, and sat down at the telephone bench. My mother was a collector of old furniture, so we had a telephone chair and several other old fashioned furnishings in the house, like the settee and the roll top desk in the parlor. I reached over, with the hand that was not holding the flash light, and picked up the old push dial phone.

How I dialed the sheriff department in one attempt, I have no idea.This was long before you could program phone numbers into a phone, and long before cell phones were available to our lower middle class zone. But I did get the dispatch officer on the first try, and I did manage to sit, and explain that there was something weird going on at my house, and that I did not feel safe.

I then began to do what my mother and father had taught me from my youth, pray. I prayed for what seemed like hours, but was really just a few minutes, for God to be with me and help me through this night. Fifteen minutes later, two sheriff's officers pulled into the long drive of the house, and made their way up to the door. I pulled it open long before they made their way up to the porch, and let them search the house, the shed, and the barn beside the house. Nothing was amiss, but they did say that there was an escaped prisoner from the next county over, and that I should keep the house locked up at all times. I understood, and asked that they please pass by the house a little more often on their routine sweeps, which they agreed to do.

As they left, I locked the doors, and went into Da's closet. He had a gun safe in there, and as he had taught all of us children how to use firearms safely, I knew what I was doing when I pulled out his pistol and loaded the chambers. If there was someone sneaking around my house, I was going to be prepared to defend myself. Needless to say, i did not sleep the rest of the night, but sat up in the living room, my back to the far wall, and the pistol in my lap. I didn't move until I heard a truck come down the back side of the property, and the dogs started howling in greeting.

My brother in law had come to do the outside chores for Da while they were away, and since he and my sister lived on the other side of the farm property, he took a shortcut to our house instead of driving the twenty minute route by road. I was never so glad to see him in all my life.

I opened the back door off the kitchen, and proceeded to tell him all about the weirdness of the night. He got an odd look on his face, but didn't say anything. Instead, he took off his boots, and motioned me to be quiet. He took the pistol from me, and made his way down the basement stairs. In the back of the basement, there was an old coal shoot. For the most part, it was closed off, but sometimes critters would get in. As soon as I saw him lift the pistol, I knew what was going on. Someone was in my basement after all. I ran upstairs and called the sheriff department back, telling them that my brother in law had found someone in my basement, and that we needed them to come pick them up.

No surprises, it was the escaped prisoner from the next county. Apparently when I felt those odd sensations, it was because I felt his presence in the house. What got me curious, is that the dogs did not alert me to trouble, and slept through most of the weirdness. Why was I the only one who felt the presence of this person, when no one else in the house did?

When I called my mom, she told me that she was very worried about me being out in the house all by myself. She was about to get in the truck and come home to check on me, when I called her. Apparently she had spent most of the night on her knees in prayer for me, although she did not know exactly what was wrong. She just said that God woke her up out of a sound sleep with the deep urge to pray for my safety.

I don't know about anyone else's mother, but my mom believes in the power of intercessory prayer. She believes in prayer. When she wakes up in the morning, she can be found praying. Before she sleeps at night, she can be found praying. At home, she often wanders through the house, praying for people and situations. Da calls it her prayer walk. When we were younger, my mother would wake us up to pray with her. She would instruct us that there was something very serious going on, or that she had heard from someone on the prayer line that needed urgent prayers, so we would accompany her and pray with her for whatever it was that needed attention. My grandmother was like that, too.

If either of those ladies called you up and asked you what was going on in your life, you knew that they had been up and praying for you in the wee hours of the night or morning, and that there was no reason to lie about what you had been up to... good or bad. When Momma went to praying, something supernatural happened, and God opened doorways, healed the sick, and protected those who were in situations that were very dangerous. So when I heard that she had been praying all night for me and my safety, I knew then that the reason I felt this person's presence in the house was because of my mother's answering the Holy Spirit's call for her to pray for me. It was a God thing, y"all. Inexplicable, yet wonderful and frightening at the same time.

I have since learned to listen to these weird sensations. I have learned that when you are in danger, the first thing you should do, is trust that feeling of danger or wrongness, and get out of the area. I have also learned that in those times it is imperative to call upon the name of the Lord in prayer. I have learned that there are instances when fleeing is not something one can do, but calling upon the name of Jesus is always possible, even when you cannot speak His name aloud. I have also learned that He will answer you in those dark times, even when you think that no one else is with you.

I am sure that I do not need to tell anyone that when my parents returned home later on that week, how happy I was to see them. We hugged like we had not seen each other for years, and then Da placed his hands on my shoulders and thanked God for keeping us all safe and sound.

I know that there were others who came forward and shared the news that they were praying for me that night. That, like my mother, God had placed me upon their hearts, and so they woke from their sleep to pray for me. One dear lady, even shared that she was so worried that she put a bee in the ear of her son to drive by the house more frequently that week, and he did, not knowing that he was probably one of the reasons why the person in my basement did not come up the stairs and do something evil while I was sleeping. I will never know exactly what kept the person in the basement, but I do know that God does protect His children, especially when mothers pray for their sons and daughters like my mother does.