The conjurer of wicked little minds

You see back in those days my greatest fear was to wake up and find my candle had burned itself out. That was my foremost concern as a child whose room overlooked a giant wheat field where every monster known
to man was waiting. Waiting so patiently for that light to go out! The summertime was especially bad 'cos the windows had to be left open,
or we'd suffocate to death from the heat! I had no clock in my room back then, didn't need one. My mother would rouse me come mornin' when it was time for class. All's I had was a candle that was lit every night by my father before bedtime. If I was asleep then it didn't matter, but if I awoke mind you!

Some of the darkest nights I can remember was having to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Inching my way down that pitch black corridor was more than I could handle. No lights, we didn't have 'em yet. Picture that! Do you know that every time I walked down that hallway
I was trembling with fear? Barely high enough to reach the doorknob,
I'd open it and step inside. Then came the scary part. My mother liked mirrors so there were a few in the bathroom. One was tall and slender,
my height. Another was very ornate. By ornate I mean quite fancy, and the other was a hand held mirror. I had to hold my hand in front of my eyes as I walked in shaking like a leaf on a tree as I sat down. Now I couldn't close the door or what was behind the shower curtain might spring out and get me and God forbid no one should hear my scream and save me! And I was just as terrified to leave the door open 'cos the floor seemed to creak most right in that hallway. It was then at that moment I could see somebody or something leaning over to catch a glimpse of me as I sat there stirring. I could almost hear it breathing ominously in the shadows
of that corridor. Then above the window where I sat, which led outside. I'd always sense something was gonna come crashing through the window and rip me out of my seat! That never happened to me of course, thank heavens! No child should ever be filled with such gut-wrenching terror
and trepidation, but those were the woes of my youth. Come mornin,' father would lift up the box and carry out the waste. Sure better than creeping around in an outhouse!

                                          Pg 74
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Why did you cover your eyes," I asked now engrossed in the conversation? Excuse me, she said taken aback. "You said when you
went into the bathroom you would cover your eyes from the mirror, why?" Because those mirrors came from my great grandmother. "So." My great grandmother was a high priestess in a coven of witches and people took her very seriously. She knew how to cast spells and make magic potions. Why she could concoct a brew for anything at all. Either to cure or to make one ail, mattered none to her, so long as she got paid. "How do you know so much about her?" Because my grandmother kept a diary of all her affairs. Kind of like a spy was she in a way to her mother! Whenever she could, she would secretly document everything her mother knew about the occult. Had it not been for her, we may never have known. All this was handed down to my mother who in turn gave it to me. "Do you still have it?" No, my granddaughter has it now. Getting back to the mirrors, now let's not lose ourselves again!

The way I saw it, those mirrors were used in black magic for all kinds of evil things and sometimes, depending on the day mind you, they would reflect more than just fact. The way my mother saw it, it was merely a family heirloom that had been handed down from generation to generation as it should be. "Did she ever read it?" No, she just kept everything neatly sorted out in boxes. "Do you know how to cast spells?" She began acting very uncomfortable, almost like a young girl when she hears something displeasing. Yes, I know how to cast spells. "Do they work?" Yes, let
me start from the very beginning. This is sure to answer any questions
you may have about the dark side.

A long time ago me and my friends had this game we would play. We would make up all these horrible stories as we went along. Well, one day
I told them a story that was told to me by my grandmother. She had me swear to her that I would not tell another living soul about it, especially my mother, and to that moment I had not. Anyway, we were sitting around on a bunch of old milk crates where we would tell our stories. Her voice was beginning to change, and I started to feel uneasy. Before I tell you this, I said to them, you must promise never to do it. Emma stood up and said, how can we promise you something if we don't know what it is we are promising? Because this story comes with a rule book I said, that's why! They were a bit startled by my tone and rightfully, I would have been
too. Does everyone here understand me? She sat there looking white
eyed, while pointing her finger at me, as though I'd done something reprehensible!

                                          Pg 75
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They all agreed and so I told them. I then recited every word of that awful spell from an actual page in my great grandmother's book, which I had copied down word for word. It took me nearly five minutes to write it all down! Do you know that if you wake up at a certain time of the night, you can summon a spirit beside your bedpost? There was a terrible strain to her voice as she relayed the information from another time and place. And did you know it can only be done when the moon is full? If you were to get up at exactly three O'clock in the morning and cut the palm of your hand like so. . . Without flinching! Then chant the following words into a mirror in the dark with eyes closed and two black candles lit side by side, you would be closer than you could ever imagine to a hell beyond your worst nightmare. After this, should you follow precisely a certain incantation, someone will appear beside you in a cloak and steal you away forever into that mirror! *The words to the evil prayer she did not agree
to speak of*

"You mean he'd pull you inside the mirror?" No, no child, you would open your eyes to find you are no longer standing on the same side of it! Once that happens, bam!!! She slammed her old withered hand down hard upon the table! You and your spirit are gone! You can scream, but no one will ever hear you. Not in that wicked place. The place of no reflection and no sun. A place so dark and dreary, nothing human can survive. A plain
of time which lies between our world and the next. A terrible place of immense suffering. "How do they come back?" Once a spirit touches
the darkness, it can never come back. "You mean they lose their soul?"
Yes and no. I acted confused and so she explained it to me.

I found out many years later that the only way to release a soul from that misery would be to take the mirror and smash it, but I didn't know it at that time. "Then everything gets normal again?" No-no-no, the body dies 'cos the heart stops beating. The brain is already dead! Now do you want to hear this story or do you want to ask questions? All right then. . .

The following week we gathered round the milk crates to tell more stories, but Millie hadn't come out yet. Emma then said, did you see the moon last night? It was huge! Dear God, I thought! It suddenly dawned on me that all this hocus-pocus from my great grandmother's crazy book could very well prove to be real. Then I shrugged it off as I did almost everything back then. Next day comes. Day after. She hadn't been to school, and she wasn't hanging around with us, so we figured maybe she was sick. So me, Katlyn, Mary and Emma walked down to Millie's house to see if everything was okay. Not even an inkling did we have of anything being wrong in the least!

                                          Pg 76
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When we got to the door, her mother answered and let us in. She looked like she had been crying as she escorted us into the parlor where Millicent was sitting; her back facing us. Now I believed in witchcraft the same way people believe in magic. When you see the magician cutting the woman in half, why is it, there's no blood and how does he put her back together again? "He can't because he really isn't cutting her in half." Exactly, it's all an act! That is the same way I felt about witchcraft, but I blundered. Even so, how was I to know the paper in my pocket had gone missing? Her mom whispered something in her ear and then motioned for us to come closer. Anna just stood there as we moved up. When I saw her sitting in that chair, I knew! I knew what I had done to her.

She had a red mark running across her forehead, and it looked like her skull had been cracked. That explains the page next to the spell with no writing in it. The first was a plain forehead next to a palm of hand with a red mark running diagonally across it. The second was the forehead with
a red mark running diagonally across it next to the plain palm of hand.

Her mother was crying hard now and holding a handkerchief up to her nose saying, "I don't know what to do. I just don't know what to do!!!" Mary bolted from the scene pulling Emma's lifeless arm, and together
they ran off like two frightened rabbits. Millie's mom then rushed into the kitchen, leaving me and Katlyn alone with her. As we looked into her eyes, Millicent grabbed hold of my hand and my heart stopped beating. Katlyn gasped loudly and was taken by such surprise, she tumbled backwards knocking over the coffee table and shattering the vase that was on top of it! Right then Millicent looked at me with an intense scowl! It was a look so terrifying my skin crawled. As her grip began to tighten, I could feel every bone in my hand pop like twigs in a fire! She snarled like a vicious animal trapped in human clothing. Such bitter hatred! She then clamped down on her lower lip so hard she bit clean through it. Blood flowed
from her mouth like a river and that lip, dangling down. Miss Wade's complexion had now grown pale, and she looked like she were about to sicken. I then noticed her eyes were no longer her own, but those of my great grandmother in Hell! My knees gave out and I fell into her lap. As I started to pass out, her mother came running into the parlor and her grip released. Millie was now just a vacant shell and there was absolutely no blood on anything at all. My mind must have created the whole scene out of pure horror! As I opened and closed my hand, every bone popped into place again. I thought my mind had snapped, as did the rest of the girls, I'm sure! Whatever Katlyn saw that day must have been so frightening to her, she didn't speak for almost a week, and we never told stories again!

                                          Pg 77
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What happened to Millicent," I asked? She was taken away to a sanitarium. Drucella now sounded very distracted, almost to the point of worry. I so wanted to visit her one last time, and this time I wanted to set things right. Tell her how sorry I was, even though I knew she was no longer in there. A month later her mom told me she died. Year after that her mother passed away and soon, new people were living there.

"Do you still keep in contact with Katlyn?" Katlyn married a wealthy man and moved to North Dakota in the fall of 1916. Never did I see or hear from her again. "What about your other friend?" Emma still lives in the house she grew up in. She never married though. We talk on the phone from time to time, but I haven't seen hide nor hare of her in over fifty years. "And Mary." Mary died during the pneumonia epidemic. November of 1918 to be exact. When the moon is full, I see Millie in that place. I watch as they torture her with hot irons. Then, they usually remove all her toes and fingers with cutting shears. Sometimes they just start sawing. Then, after they kill her, it starts all over again. I have watched her die in every conceivable way you can imagine. It still seems so real, but I'm powerless to stop them. "Can't they get you?" No, I'm just a watcher. "Don't you wake up?" Not until the sun is even with the horizon.

*Every time the moon is full*

(Her eyes were now welling up with tears)

You think we're just little old ladies who tell tall tales as we sip
our tea and smile, but ask yourself this, where do you think all
your horror movies come from? They come from usssssss!!!

Two years later Miss Drucella Wade passed away quietly in her sleep.
I, along with my parents arrived at her wake on Friday, April 8th, 1977. Mom and Ray were by my side as I listened to people talking. One of
the voices I heard was her granddaughter May. "I was knocking on her
door the other day, but she didn't answer. The coroner told me she was
already dead. Already dead, and I just left!" Calm down honey, you didn't know. There-there now. I heard another voice as I appeared to be praying by her casket with eyes closed. "The coroner said she went peacefully in her sleep on Tuesday. She lived a good life." Hey, wait a minute, didn't
we have that power outage on Tuesday? No, that was Monday. Actually, Monday morning is Tuesday, isn't it? Yes it is! Anything after 11:59 pm automatically becomes am, so therefor, Monday had already turned into Tuesday! I woke up to go to the bathroom and all the lights popped off! That was really creepy! The service had finally ended, and I was getting into the car with my parents when two kids passed us. I overheard one
say to the other. . .

Did you see the size of that moon on Monday?
It was huge! "No, I was studying."

                                          Pg 78
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------