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Posted:2/9/2014 12:18:42 PM
Thanks. :) For not eating me alive for not believing. Ever since my dad I guess all I've seen is evil. But that demon, I want the thing dead. That demon is evil.
By the way, this might sound stupid, but how do you pray?

Posted:2/9/2014 12:12:46 PM
FEBUARY 9:

Still the 9th and still nearly clueless. Still wondering what happened and if I really believe. Is religion really prison? God? Angels? Now I'm not sure. Hmm...?

Posted:2/9/2014 11:39:55 AM
sorry, I didnt mean to offend you, its just that i grew up being told that religion is jail. i also kind of hoped that if god was real that he would have stopped what happened to my dad.

-CHERRIE

Posted:2/9/2014 11:21:14 AM
please ignore ".us" after the word real.
-CHERRIE

Posted:2/9/2014 11:18:33 AM
FEBUARY 8:

I have come to believe that my father is possessed.
He had a drug addiction. Any sort of addiction or negitive feeling, such as fear or depression, would make him wide open to demonic possession. And one day I plan to find the demon who took my father from me, and kill it. I'm not sure I'm ready to tell you how I lost him. It kills me to think of him.

FEBUARY 9:

I don't believe in god, I don't believe in angels, but I'm willing to openly believe in hell and demons. And today I start hunting them, because of a dream I had.
It was like watching a movie witha screwed up disk, playing over and over again, each time clearer than the last.
At first he was mg dad, and he was normal, but still it was odd because I never have dreams. And then I woke up gasping for air much like would if I was resurfacing after holding my breath for an hour under water. Then I fell back asleep. I saw my dad again, this time clearer, more real. I reached out to touch him and then his eyes glowed yellow, and he wasnt my dad anymore, not really. He was something less that to me, something evil. And when I woke up I was'nt necessarily in bed. I was floating, crying, and hoping that whatever the hell was holding me up there would set me down. And it did, eventually. I could feel myself lowering and as soon as I touched bed I could breath again. Just to be sure that wasnt just a dream I cut myself with the blade in my survival kit that I keep under my pillow. The dried blood is still there. I'm scared to go to sleep tonight.


MY NAME IS CHERRIE EVERLARK AND I WILL FIND WHAT TOOK MY DAD. PLEASE HELP, IF YOU CAN.

FEBUARY 9:

Still the 9 and still clueless. Still wondering what happened and whether I really believe. Is religion really jail? God? Angels? Right now I'm not sure.