Blogtober 2021: Shadow
WORK FROM HOME, DAY 25
Another theory that comes and goes holds that PA is caused by an entity of some type and that the agent is merely a source of energy for this entity. This energy supposedly is the initial draw of the entity to the agent, and then is used by it as “fuel”. The same emotional characteristics of the agent mentioned in the Recurrent Spontaneous Psychokinesis theory would also “feed” an entity as expressed in this second theory. Whichever the cause, poltergeist activity is certainly more under the control of the agent than she/he usually realizes.
Am I the poltergeist? Am I causing the poltergeist? Maybe I'm channeling it. Maybe it's channeling me. Is this a symbiotic relationship?
Internet search: what is a symbiotic relationship
A symbiotic relationship essentially means a relationship between two organisms, which may or may not benefit one or both.
I'm not sure how this relationship benefits me and the poltergeist and it certainly isn't helping me out.
Much of the activity generated by a poltergeist can be dramatic and destructive, though rarely is anyone hurt and even then, injuries are minor. In general, the activity begins with small things and escalates from there.
The turntable sits silent. No records play either by hand or something else's. My laptop is responding only to my pecks on the keyboard. The sit/stand desk is remaining in the 'sit' position where I want it. Nothing is moving independently. The third glass of sweet tea is providing the caffeine I need to get through this Monday after a sleepless Sunday night. It also necessitates yet another trip to the Executive Washroom. After completing my business, I wash my hands and face. The cold water against my skin invigorates me and I think I might just make it through the day. I dry my face and then see the face in the mirror again. The yellow eyes glow and the distorted features of its face are vivid and stark. I don't move. I don't breathe.
A command to leave, backed by true courage and conviction...
"Get out of my mirror!" I yell. The command sounded more menacing in my head than it does out loud. The mirror cracks along a diagonal from a lower corner to an upper one. A loud crash echoes from the bedroom at the end of the hall. I step out of the bathroom and glare at the bedroom door, light peeking from under it.
A shadow paces back and forth.
"There are no good things," a voice whispers. The poltergeist is playing its greatest hits.
I march toward the bedroom, grip the doorknob, and rush into the room, determined to see what this is once and for all. The dresser that sits across the room against the far wall has toppled onto the floor. No one is in the room. No floating spirit or mist. The office door slams at the other end of the hall and what I feel now is less fear than it is anger. I take three steps toward the office and cry out.
"What the hell are you?"
A whisper from behind stops my heart.
The bedroom door slams shut.