The Good, the Bad, and the Very Ugly
by Diana Honeick
I have lived with what I call entities for as long as I can remember. Most of them come and go, and I hardly even know when they’re visiting. However, some of these entities have left a lasting impression on me. Three in particular I have termed the Good, the Bad, and the Very Ugly, and they surely live up to that title.
The Good is an entity that I have never heard, saw, or felt, and it visited, I think, just twice. This entity was centered on my daughter, Olivia. When she was 4 weeks old, I had put her in her car seat to sleep. I had set the seat on the dining room table. The phone rang, and I took the call in the living room. My cousin and I had been talking for a few minutes when I got an overwhelming urge to check on my baby. It was like someone or something was pulling me off my seat. Olivia was the most horrible shade of blue-grey I’d ever seen; she had stopped breathing. Fortunately, it had only been a couple of minutes or seconds, and she recovered fully. The second incident involving Olivia occurred a couple of months later.
I had taken her upstairs to her room and put her in her crib. She howled something fierce, so I took her out, cuddled and soothed her, and laid her back down. She howled again like she was hurt, so I took her into bed with me. A few minutes later, there was a loud crashing sound from her bedroom. A shelf that was on the wall above her bed had fallen off the wall and a large ceramic piggy bank lay in her crib – right where her head would have been. I know and believe that someone intervened (again) and saved my baby.
The Bad is an entity who would roam through the house and open drawers, doors, and misplace things. Her image appeared vividly not only to me but to one of my sons as well – a woman in her 50’s or 60’s, wearing a pink robe and slippers, with her hair in curlers. We put up with this mischief for quite some time until finally she was asked to leave. I guess she was not really bad, but she was annoying.
The Ugly is the one and only entity that made me feel afraid, an image that haunts my memory because of the evil that surrounded it. I had been given a toddler bed by an acquaintance when one of my sons was 2 years old. He refused, adamantly, that he was not sleeping in it, so I put it away without another thought. A few years later, I set it up for another son to sleep in. The same scenario played out; he refused to sleep in the bed. One night, I was awaken to my 3 year old child crying. As I got closer to the door of his room, I heard him yelling and sobbing, “Get out my bed, my bed.” I looked in to find the most grotesque, menacing “thing” sitting on the bed. I grabbed my son and woke his father. I told him to get rid of the bed that very instant, so he took it out to the dumpster. Sadly, the next morning it was gone; someone in the apartment complex had taken it. I know that awful thing went with the bed, because I never experienced it again. I often wonder if the same thing happened to whoever took it.
Over the years and in various places I have lived, I have experienced very different entities, but these are the three that will remain in my memory, and these are the stories I tell most often when people ask me if I believe in ghosts or spirits.
The Good is an entity that I have never heard, saw, or felt, and it visited, I think, just twice. This entity was centered on my daughter, Olivia. When she was 4 weeks old, I had put her in her car seat to sleep. I had set the seat on the dining room table. The phone rang, and I took the call in the living room. My cousin and I had been talking for a few minutes when I got an overwhelming urge to check on my baby. It was like someone or something was pulling me off my seat. Olivia was the most horrible shade of blue-grey I’d ever seen; she had stopped breathing. Fortunately, it had only been a couple of minutes or seconds, and she recovered fully. The second incident involving Olivia occurred a couple of months later.
I had taken her upstairs to her room and put her in her crib. She howled something fierce, so I took her out, cuddled and soothed her, and laid her back down. She howled again like she was hurt, so I took her into bed with me. A few minutes later, there was a loud crashing sound from her bedroom. A shelf that was on the wall above her bed had fallen off the wall and a large ceramic piggy bank lay in her crib – right where her head would have been. I know and believe that someone intervened (again) and saved my baby.
The Bad is an entity who would roam through the house and open drawers, doors, and misplace things. Her image appeared vividly not only to me but to one of my sons as well – a woman in her 50’s or 60’s, wearing a pink robe and slippers, with her hair in curlers. We put up with this mischief for quite some time until finally she was asked to leave. I guess she was not really bad, but she was annoying.
The Ugly is the one and only entity that made me feel afraid, an image that haunts my memory because of the evil that surrounded it. I had been given a toddler bed by an acquaintance when one of my sons was 2 years old. He refused, adamantly, that he was not sleeping in it, so I put it away without another thought. A few years later, I set it up for another son to sleep in. The same scenario played out; he refused to sleep in the bed. One night, I was awaken to my 3 year old child crying. As I got closer to the door of his room, I heard him yelling and sobbing, “Get out my bed, my bed.” I looked in to find the most grotesque, menacing “thing” sitting on the bed. I grabbed my son and woke his father. I told him to get rid of the bed that very instant, so he took it out to the dumpster. Sadly, the next morning it was gone; someone in the apartment complex had taken it. I know that awful thing went with the bed, because I never experienced it again. I often wonder if the same thing happened to whoever took it.
Over the years and in various places I have lived, I have experienced very different entities, but these are the three that will remain in my memory, and these are the stories I tell most often when people ask me if I believe in ghosts or spirits.