I was very young, around nineteen I think. Our cousin Rachel was making her yearly visit with her husband. The Walters family used to be close. All one had to do was call and need. We teased our mother, calling her house the "Do drop in".
Any way for some particular reason, old Rachel was being old Rachel and reached up on top of the refrigerator to retrieve a snack. I casually reminded her that those snacks were not for every one, that they belonged to my little brother, for his lunch, on his summer job.
Rachel responded flippantly that she didn't care whose snack it was, she was eating it. Now, pay close attention, this is the part that will curl your hair. Suddenly I was cussing cousin Rachel out! I mean low, gutter swearing! Wait, suddenly I had a huge butcher knife in my hand, up to cousin Rachel's throat.
Of course cousin Rachel left immediately, never came back. I was left trembling trying to understand what just happened to me, to us. I ran into my mother's room horrified, embarrassed, confused. Mathy Jane is laughing, declaring she was just testing a new batch of her "dust".
"Yea, I sprinkled some in Rachel's suitcase! It sho' worked!" (Then the bitch clapped her demonic hands and squealed like a pig.) My mind was blown. I felt violated, used. I was no more good to that side of the family. How could I even begin to explain my behavior ? "Oh, by the way please excuse me, my mother was working her "roots" through me." Ridiculous, I cut my losses and let them think what they wished.
Please do not declare there is no such thing as demon possession, WITCHCRAFT, demon possessed pastors that preach. Keeping them secret, cloaked, will not protect you. Plus, your scars are obvious. We must out them! Reveal them! Stand against them!
Trust and Obey!
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