Back in 2010, my former husband and father of my two eldest children, died of a suspected "hot shot" (heroin laced with battery acid or rat poison). It rocked our world. I had known my former husband since I was 12 years old. Even though we had separated a number of years previously and had both moved on, I having gotten engaged and having had a son with my fiance at the time, it still very much hurt me as if I had just lost a sibling. I was still very close to his parents and grandparents. I saw these people almost everyday until their own passings. It was a very emotional time.
A close mutual friend of ours reached out to me a week or so after his passing to tell me that she thought he was trying to contact her through music. She was in her apartment with her boyfriend and they were trying to get into the mood. So she turned on her iPod for a little background music. At first she said everything was fine, nothing was amiss. But as they progressed further, her iPod started to play a song she hadn't queued up to play. It was a song that my ex would play all the time by Kid Rock; "Cowboy". Well, that was his nickname, so to her the sign was obvious, but at the same time, totally coincidental. Freaked out, she changed the song, because who wants to think about their dead best friend while trying to get hot and heavy with their significant other? No big deal. She just continues on with her boyfriend. The following song after the one she changed it to from Cowboy was an Eminem song. Again, my ex's favorite artist. She got a little annoyed this time, so she skips the song and continues on. AGAIN, it happens, but this time it's Metallica, my ex's favorite band of all time (I used "Nothing Else Matters" for his video memorial that I showed at his funeral). Ok, so now she's listening, now she's freaked out, and totally not in the mood to be intimate with her partner anymore. She grabs her robe and goes out into her dining room to grab her smokes when she sees a picture of my ex and her daughter sitting out on the counter which she SWEARS she had put up for safe keeping to bring to his funeral. Thoroughly flipped out now, she starts speaking to my ex, telling him (paraphrasing, of course) "Ok dude, I got your message, you're here, you've made yourself known. Please don't do this to me right now, I can't handle this." She calls me, explains all of the above, and is clearly shooken up. I tell her that I will try to draw him out of her apartment from my apartment and get him to come to me and visit me, to tell me whatever message it is he's trying to relay, and to ask that he leave her alone.
That night, I grab a white candle I had, and a picture of the two of us, and I sit in my bedroom alone in the dark with only the light of the candle. I set my intention to call upon his spirit, banishing anything that was not welcomed or not called upon or that would wish to do me harm. Out loud I start to talk to my ex. I ask him to come to me, to give me a sign of what he's wanting to say to us, and to not contact our friend anymore because it scares her too much. I did at that moment what I thought I should do and how I should do it, without any prior knowledge on how to summon spirits or hold a seance... Whatever you want to call what I did, I had never done it before and I just did what was natural to me.
A few days after this novice ritual I performed, I started to feel as though I was being watched whenever I went into my bedroom. I could pinpoint from which area I was feeling "eyes" on me. It was in the corner of my bedroom on my side of the bed. It was a freaky feeling, an uneasy feeling, that I did my best to ignore. Every night before bed for a week or more, it was the same thing. I wouldn't go to sleep by myself because I'd be laying there with my back towards the wall, feeling like I was being stared at, with this overall creepy feeling, until my fiance would come to bed. Then it would stop.
I think it was after his funeral that the OBE's started happening. The first time it happened, I was drifting off to sleep and I started hearing this whooshing sound, like a wobble effect, in my ears. It was very loud. I didn't know what it was and I was so tired that I didn't try to stop it. I was curious about it too as it had never happened to me before. The next thing I know, I'm laying in my bed, paralyzed. I can't move, I can't speak, but I can see everything in my bedroom crystal clear and in vivid colors. The way the side table lamp lights up my room, the color of the walls and furniture, every little thing we kept on or in our entertainment center... It was as if I was really awake, yet I knew I was not. And there he was... My ex, perched up on my entertainment center, looking out my window as if he is watching out for someone or something. His eyes looked like cats eyes, but instead of running vertical, they were slit horizontally. We were speaking to each other not with voice or sound, but telepathically. He sends the thought to me, "I know you have questions to ask me. Ask me anything." My immediate thought was, "were you murdered?" He snaps back just as quick, "but don't ask me that one." So I rephrase my question as, "did you do this to yourself?" Meaning, did he OD on heroin by his own hand? He responds, "You already know the answer to that. Under no circumstances are you or Pop to go looking for answers." It was implied that in doing so would get us hurt, or worse, killed. He then says something about being followed by something and he has to go. He jumps out my bedroom window and I wake up. I wake up with perfect clarity of what just happened. I don't remember my dreams that often, or that vividly, and I certainly don't remember dreaming in color, ever. This was so completely different than anything I've ever experienced. I was so totally aware of EVERYTHING. I could feel my body, but I was paralyzed.
The following night, the whooshing, wobble sound floods my ears once more. I go into this sleep paralysis state again, but this time I'm not met by my ex. I look over the edge of my bed without moving my physical body. I'm completely aware that I am actually laying on my back in my bed with my arms at my side. I feel numbness and tingling all over my body, too heavy and dead to even move a finger or a toe. Yet, I'm leaning over the edge of the bed looking down towards the floor somehow. All of a sudden, these small gargoyle looking things that I equate to demons are running along the side of my bed where I'm looking, and I instinctively know they are looking for my ex. Remembering how he had said the night before that he was being followed, it instantly clicks in my head that he's being chased by demons who want him to go to hell with them. I'm freaked out, so I pull myself out of this dream state. Analyzing what just happened, I can't make sense of why the devil, or whomever, would want him down in the depths of hell when he had recently been baptized prior to his passing and had declared Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior (I was a staunch believer back then, now I'm more Agnostic). The experience freaked me out for sure though, because the next night I was subconsciously attempting to go back under and I consciously stopped it as soon as I heard the loud noise in my ears. I had stopped it every time since then. I had a fear attached to that whooshing wobble sound and I immediately woke myself whenever I would hear it. Of course, it's been quite a while since I've had that happen to me, so I'm not entirely sure if the fear is still there or not. (I will cover this in my next post).
Since my ex revealed this info to me (which I believe wholeheartedly happened, yet was told by a so-called paranormal investigator that my mind was just having a hard time letting go and that I needed to "move on" š¤¬), I found out that he was in fact set up and murdered by a local heroin dealer who was afraid my ex would rat him out for his involvement in another murder. His mother tried to get the law involved, and at one point had a couple of people being looked at as possible suspects or persons with intimate knowledge of what exactly happened. Years later I learned that she had received death threats by anonymous phone call if she didn't stop digging around. I learned that our mutual friend was so grieved by his passing that she ended up relapsing after going out into the drug world to do some digging of her own. She was able to ascertain that the hit was ordered by who we had suspected all along and confirmed the assumed reasons why. (To this day, she hasn't recovered from this relapse. I hear she's lost everything including custody of her younger children and lives in her car). As for me? I've since moved past the grief and any hope of justice for our children. I accepted a long time ago that I couldn't do anything about any of this without proof and evidence first of all, and that law enforcement doesn't care about another dead junkie anyways. I heeded my ex's warning and never tried to pursue an investigation out of a sense of obligation as if, although I don't remember making any promises to him, I did so in my heart and he understood that I had. With all that said, I 100% believe in the authenticity of the experience I had, that my ex had a specific message and agenda to fulfill, and I did have a conversation with him after he passed. I don't believe that it was a part of the grieving process or an overactive imagination. You could never convince me otherwise.
When all this out of body stuff happened, the feeling as though I was being watched, and my 2 year old son running from my bedroom screaming that there was a man in there when there really wasn't, legitimately scared to death, I did some digging online about my experiences to put a name to the phenomena that was occurring. The best I could come up with was sleep paralysis. But I'm not convinced after reading some of the posts on this site. I read the beginner's guide to astral projection that was linked in the comments of another post that came up in a Google search I had performed tonight. The author explained hearing the same exact sound in her ears prior to her OOB experience, which I believe was further backed up in the beginner's guide. Nothing in my past research related to sleep paralysis did it mention anywhere about hearing distinct sounds in your ears before going into this awake/dream state. I also recall there being mentions of feeling a heaviness on the chest as if some entity was sitting on them and that's why they couldn't move. I didn't feel anything like that. There wasn't anything "physically" holding me down. If anything, it was more fear in the moment, and my ignorance of astral projection at the time. Maybe if I knew then what I know now, I could have sat up in bed and verbally communicated with my ex like normal people do. Maybe I could have given him one last hug before he disappeared, or asked questions I really wanted to know the answers to (or perhaps not, suppose it wasn't meant to be and for the best, etcetera, etcetera).
So, if you've read this far, you're the real MVP!
*What do you think I experienced? Out of body or plain ol' sleep paralysis?
*What is your theory as to why his eyes were cat like but slit horizontally?
*What were the gargoyle like demon things I saw if there is no hell and deities such as Satan don't really exist?
*Alternatively, if you are a believer in Christ and the bible, why would demons try to pull someone down to hell if they were baptized and sought forgiveness of their sins?
*If we're the ones who are supposed to be in control when we project, then did I use my own free will for these encounters to happen?
*Can a spirit, such as my ex, pull an intended living person into an astral realm to deliver important information?
*Is my experience at all typical, like, do people commonly remember projecting out of nowhere or with no prior knowledge or experience?
*As I understand it, we all project when we sleep, we just aren't ever aware of it until we learn how to do it intentionally. So... If I was able to do it unintentionally and remember it so easily, then why, almost 10 years later, can I not seem to do it intentionally when I want to?
Yes, I realize this was a lot to read and digest, and now I'm asking a million questions, but I've waited a decade to find a forum such as this with people such as myself to present all these questions to. I will explore the site more on my own and hopefully I'll find the answers I seek, but I'd be very interested to see who else has had similar experiences! So don't be shy and leave me a comment!
Thank you and blessed be, āNitemareā
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I was in prison for 10 calendar years and killed a handful of rapists and child molesters while I served my sentence. I got away with all of those killings. I had a best friend in there who had killed exponentially more men than me. I knew this because I was writing his life story. He was found not guilty by the reason of insanity for one killing. Then they put him in the state hospital, where he decapitated a deputy sheriff, and was found not guilty by the reason of insanity for that killing too. Like me, he was never convicted of murder. Yet I counted his victims and it was difficult to keep count! The state hospital transferred him to prison, for safe housing. But that was his home and he had a reputation for being extremely dangerous.
Some convicts accepted responsibility for his killings because the prison was so dangerous at that time that a certain few men were willing to "purchase" a reputation as a killer in order to ensure their own safety, as a reputation of being a killer tended to keep predators at bay (predators look for easy pray). They figured life in prison was better than dying in prison. My friend strangled to death one man and another man took the rap for it. My friend stabbed another man to death and another man accepted responsibility for the death. The prison even sent him to the federal system for safe housing because they could not handle him and he ended up in Marion in the early 80's, at a time when race riots were popping off and it became very violent there too. My friend slit the throat of a man who was making a phone call. And a man that already had 7 consecutive life sentences accepted responsibility because what's one more life sentence? That was his favorite method of killing (cutting the throat) although he said strangulation was also his favorite. He was lucky! One time he and two of his friends decided that it was time for a serial rapist to commit suicide and he was found hanging by the neck from an electrical cord. It was ruled a suicide. My friend told me about another way of killing that he did occasionally during the 60's and 70's in prison (he started doing time in the 50's and spent three stints in prison, so he saw the 50's, 60's, 70's, 80's and 90's in prison... Killing men who disrespected him. He electrocuted a man for disrespecting his pet bird and stabbed another man through the heart for crossing the wrong boundary. But the most interesting type of killing he told me about was "hot shots."
My friend was white, and he was an equal opportunity murderer. It didn't matter to him whether a man was black, white or brown. Only, I pressed him about killing Mexicans because at that time in prison Mexicans were extremely cohesive, inter-related, and very dangerous. Based upon my own personal experiences, I had been burned by several Mexicans in minor drug deals and it pissed me off, because retaliation is dangerous and tricky, always not worth the trouble of revenge due to the certainty of another Mexican stabbing me for killing his cuz. That's when I put two and two together and realized that he gave "hot shots" to Mexicans. That way he could maintain good relationships with Mexican friends and never have to worry abput another Mexican getting revenge. Back in the 60's and 70's, many, many prisoners OD'd on heroin. Many were Mexicans and usually their OD's were thwir own fault... But a few times the shot of heroin was a "hot shot." My friend told me that a man (I surmised he was Mexican) burned him in a heroin deal by passing off bunk drugs. My friend questioned him about it and the guy said "I would never knowingly burn you, bro." My friend told me he waited until he got the materials needed then loaded a syringe with good heroin and gave the guy a small taster shot to build trust. The guy later asked for another shot and my friend drew up another shot of good stuff into one syringe. However, he put that syringe in his pocket and pulled out a syringe full of battery acid. The victim didn't see my friend switch syringes. But when the contents of that syringe went into that man's arm, he immediately yelled "It burns! It burns! WTF?" My friend replied, "I would never knowingly 'burn' you, bro." The man scrambled away and died in the prison's infirmary. Another type of "hot shot" involved giving a victim some heroin that was stepped on, that is, cut with so much other stuff that the guy gets used to getting a little high from a little paper of heroin. So he asks for more, and my friend pulls out pure heroin and loads up a syringe with the larger amount of heroin. He then stuck the man with a syringe containing pure heroin and the guy OD'd. When I asked if this was how he dealt with Mexicans who crossed the line, he just smiled and said "Your pretty smart, kid." That's how he confirmed or denied killings, with gestures and words that don't incriminate him. He was very dangerous! Very! He helped me with my own anger management issues by passing along knowledge. Now I'm a nonviolent member of society.
Just wanted to share what I knew about hot shots. Also, I can say that in prison, not every suicide is a suicide and not every OD is an OD. Not every killer is a killer. And it's always a good idea to treat everyone with respect because some old man that looks harmless may not be harmless: he might separate your head from your body!
That old friend of mine was released from prison in his late 60's, having spent about 40 years confined.