The Spirits Revenge
This story is about something that happened to me. It was very paranormal. It also may sound stupid, or unbelievable, but it's true.
My mother had died mysteriously one night in bed with my dad years before the event took place. It was my and my older brother, Axel. He was a role model to me. He was a senior in high school and I was a lousy Freshman. My brother loved sports and was basically that "All-star athlete" in high school and everybody loved him. But I loved him the most. And he loved me also.
He was always there to back me up if someone ever tried to pick on my in school. He never even had to actually fight anyone cause they knew not to mess with him or he'd beat them up. He was the sweetest guy in the world. And would do anything for me. We were close. The only time we wouldn't be together is during class at school.
Anyway back to the story, our mom had recently passed away for mysterious causes one night next to my dad. We never knew what happened. But we were all devastated. Except my dad. He acted like nothing ever happened. And this made my brother upset. Very upset.
Our dad was abusive and he always fought with my mom and beat her. He beat me also. But never my brother. He liked my brother. But despised me. He hated me deeply. He was also a drunk. A horrible one in fact. And there wasn't one moment when you didn't see him without a glass of whiskey in his hand. This is the reason why our mom and dad fought. She just wanted him to stop drinking. But we would always hit her in response to the question. And after mom died, dad just got worse with the drinking. That means the beatings he gave me were harder. This made my brother grieve. Until he finally decided to do something about it.
It was a Sunday, an amazing glorious morning. It was around 9:00. My dad was drinking, getting drunk as usual. When he went in my brother and my room to beat me. And he did. By the time he was done, my brother decided to stick up for me. He told my dad that he's tired of the beatings that he gives me and what I've done to deserve them. My father turned red with anger. He yelled and yelled at my brother and eventually took the beer bottle he was holding and smashed it on my brothers head, cracking the bottle into pieces. My brother was loosing blood, lots of it. My dad walked out acting like nothing happened. I went up to my brother who was laying to the ground bleeding. I started to cry. There was so much blood. He told me that he loves me. And that if our dad lays one more finger on me then he'll pay for it. He said he didn't know how he'd do it, but he would.
At 11:37, my brother died from blood loss. The Sunday church bells rung once, twice, three times. It had rung right when he took his last breath. My dad called the police and told them that his death was a accident. I didn't say anything about what really happened because he said he'd kill me too if I would. At the funeral my dad didn't even go. They buried my brother next to my mother. After the funeral, I went home, not saying a single word.
Now your probably thinking, "When is the paranormal action gonna come in?" Don't worry. It's just about to kick in.
Starting Tuesday, (a day after my brother had died) I started to notice things moving and lights turning on and off, but I wasn't scared. I knew it was my brother. I knew it was him watching over me. This went on until one day. When something shocking would happen.
It was a Sunday morning, at 11:30. It was a cloudy, grey day. And my father hadn't touched me since the previous Sunday. He spent a lot of time out. And he came home one day, drunker than he had ever been. He went up to me right when he burst through the door. He grabbed me by the neck and lifted me up against the wall. He then repeated the words, "Guess what you little runt? I killed your mother. I had smothered her with a pillow. Police never found out." He laughed.
Right when he had said that he punched me. Blood spilled from my mouth. At that exact moment the house shook. He stopped what he was doing and looked around startled. He was still holding on to my neck when he flew backwards about 5 feet. He fell on his back, freaking out, he yelled and asked what was going on. He looked around in all different directions. Things that were in the house flew around and crash into him. He stumbled towards the window which had a blood red curtain hanging over it. When he was by the window, the curtain fell from above it and then wrapped itself around his neck he grabbed it and tried to get it off but it wouldn't come loose.
Then, out from no where, a big gust of force rushed through the room and hit my dad. He flew out the window of our second story house with the curtain still around his neck. I saw as the red curtain tightened and straightened with a sudden jerk shortly after he fell from the window. I sat there, leaned up against the wall, until I took the energy to get up and go downstairs, then outside.
I looked up at the second story window and saw the dangling body of my father. He was swaying from left to right with the red curtain still around his neck. It was silent. Perfectly silent. Until the Sunday morning church bells broke it. One ring, two rings, three rings. I looked up into the sky and saw him. My brother and my mother. They smiled at me and a warm light engulfed me. They were both free. And so was I.
I called the police and they came. I was adopted. I now am with a new family. A family that loves me. Almost as much as my brother and mother did. I'm happy. And those last words my father said to me will always haunt me. But I don't let them over take me. Because that's the past. And I guess I just have to look towards the future.