Have you ever had the feeling that you were being watched? If you have, you will know exactly the same sensation that I have endured for about the past month. I don't know how or why you can tell if you are being watched. Maybe it's a survival mechanism or even just your psyche playing tricks on you. 

I, for one, know that this was not the case for me. On to the story.

First off, I am quite the junkie for anything paranormal and have not written very much, but my story needs to be heard... it all started with a thread on a forum about the paranormal. This thread was discussing a subject I have never heard about before. It was created for the purpose of informing people how to sell salt to spirits at a cemetery.

I know what you are thinking. I thought it sounded ridiculous too, at first, but the more that I read into it, the more intrigued I became with the idea of being able to make some quick cash. The fact that it involved the paranormal didn't help to sway my interest.

I have always been fascinated with the paranormal (hence being on the paranormal forums) and the thought of actually interacting with spirits without having to do extensive research into the occult just seemed like a really cool idea to me at the time. Each person who claimed to have done it before seemed so sincere with the stories that they posted. I read the entire thread and several articles over the internet. I, for one, was skeptical, and that in itself is another reason why I chose to go.

I went to bed shortly after and I forgot about the whole ordeal by the morning.

The next day, I found myself at the local "Sam's Club" to pick up a few things that I needed for the week. Food, paper products, you get the idea. As I was looking through the bulk food section, I came across 10-pound bags of salt. Obviously, it reminded me of what I read about the night prior, and the price was good. Really good. I mean, if it was regular priced I probably wouldn't have bothered but this was some cheap fucking salt.

I got the bag of salt and the rest of the stuff I needed and checked out.

I get home with my groceries and go about my everyday business.

(For the sake of the story, I will fast-forward to tonight.)

It's now around 10 PM and I have everything I need to go to the cemetery ready. I spend the next hour reading more about the legend and by this time I am already having doubts and second thoughts. I am not even in the cemetery yet, but I feel the adrenaline rush and my heart rate is through the roof. I hate the monotony of night, so I pushed myself to get into the car by 11:00 PM and I begin driving to the cemetery.

As I am driving, I shit you not, the radio turned on by itself not once but TWICE. Each time it was static feedback and made me jump out of my seat and damn near slam on my brakes.

Thirty minutes later, I pull up to the front of the cemetery and sit in my car thinking about what a dumb idea it was to come here. That just goes to show, that even a skeptic person is afraid when put into the situation. After a few thoughtful moments, I decide that it is now or never (you have to be in the cemetery sitting beneath the tree by 12 AM) so I grab my bag of salt, the measuring scoop I am using and put the hood on my jacket up.

I walk through the cemetery looking for a tree. It was so damned dark that I could hardly see a thing. I tripped over a small tombstone and spilled a large portion of salt all over the ground on my way to the tree. You can only imagine the doubts that I felt as I was quickly scooping the salt back into the bag. The legend says that if you leave before sun rises, bad shit happens. What happens differs from story to story, but they made it clear to NOT BACK OUT. There was no turning back now...

After getting as much of the salt off the ground as I could, I proceeded to walk to the tree that I could barely make out in the pitch black distance... It was freezing and I knew it was going to be a very long night. Seeing as how it was winter, the tree had no leaves on it and looked about as ominous as everything else in that damned place. After a moment of hesitation, I sit down, lean the bag of salt against the tree and wait for my first customer.

For those of you who are not in the know, I will take a few moments to tell you a few things about the "Selling salt to spirits legend".

You must bring enough salt to give all "spirits" that come to you an equal amount of salt. (Or bad shit will happen, hence why I was freaking out when I tripped and poured most of it out).

You must NEVER look ahead of you as you are waiting for customers. You must remain seated and keep your head looking down (If you look up at a customer, BAD SHIT HAPPENS) and wait for a hand to present itself in front of your face. You then may pour the salt into the spirit's hands and thank them for the random object (that turns into cash by daylight) that they give you. It's said that they need the salt to fend off evil spirits.

Back to the story.

I sit beneath the tree, waiting for something to happen. Anything. After a while, maybe an hour I begin to realize how stupid this is. I tell myself that I will wait for another hour and if nothing happens, I am leaving.

Being bored and seeing as how you are not allowed to bring electronics (Ghosts don't like that shit) I grabbed a handful of salt and begin to sift it through my fingers and catch it with my opposite hand underneath. I repeat this mindlessly seeing as I had nothing else to do for the next 10 minutes or so until...


I drop the salt all over my lap and fumble for the measuring cup. My heart is beating a thousand times a minute and I am resisting the urge to look up. With limited vision, I have difficulty getting the salt for the "hand", but it waits patiently and doesn't so much as shake.

I pour the salt into its hand. It disappears and I hold out my hand waiting for whatever I am supposed to receive to be given to me. About a minute later, I feel something pressed into my palm. I pull my hand back, say thank you in the calmest voice I could manage and examine it close to my face. It was the head of a dry and dead flower. I put it into my pocket.

Things started to pick up after that... Several other "hands" presented themselves in front of my face obviously wanting what I was selling. I gave each hand a level scoop of salt and in return I got various random objects. The oddest one being a piece of pink ripped fabric. It looked very old and frayed. I didn't care what it was, so long as it turned into something usable by morning.

The hands didn't bother me so much after a while, but damn... after my third or fourth customer, I started to hear the most ungodly noises I have ever heard in my life. These were noises that I, or probably any other human for that matter, have never heard. Nothing I could think of resembled them remotely...

The noises would go for a while and then stop for an extended period of time. While this was happening, I closed my eyes and covered my ears with my hands. I opened my eyes to check for a hand every so often, but I kept them shut tightly in between checks to resist looking up at those fucking noises.

Finally, the sun rose. I could leave now... I stand up, still looking at the ground by habit, find my way to the path and begin walking to the entrance of the cemetery. My numb hands fumbled, trying to unlock the car door. As I got it open, I realized just how cold I was. I put the keys in the ignition, turned on the heater, and began to drive home. During the drive, (or walk) you may not look back at the cemetery. You have to keep your eyes forward until it is out of sight.

After the long drive home, I went inside my house, put my things away, and rush to my bed to cover up in my blankets as I was still freezing. I lay down and try to get warm, but I end up dozing off from the sleepless night and the comfort of the warm bed.

As I was sleeping, I dreamed that I was back in the cemetery. I was sitting beneath the tree, and a hand presented itself in front of my face. My eyes looked at the hand and began to follow its arm. Fuck...

I... saw its face in my dream... It had the head of a goat and resembled Baphomet, a pagan god I remember reading about. As I stared at it, it began to make those same fucking noises I heard at the cemetery again. I jolted awake and took a look at my clock. It was nearly 11:00 PM.

How I slept for nearly 16 hours is beyond me, but the thought passed me as I remembered the money I was supposed to have in my pocket.

I put my hand in my pocket and notice that the things are gone, however, nothing replaced them. They were empty...

Since that night, I have been having that damned nightmare over and over again... I constantly have the feeling of being watched. The same feeling that I had at the cemetery. It just won't fucking go away...

I literally believe that my house is haunted now. Unexplainable things have been happening very frequently and they seem to be getting worse and worse. Almost every night, that fucking dream wakes me up before 12:00 AM as if they are trying to get me to go back to the cemetery to give them more salt.

I don't ever want to step foot into a cemetery again...

I can't believe that I ever did this. Whatever I was serving was no spirit, but something much worse. I would even go as far as to say that they were demons.

And now... they torment me...

I don't know what to do if this shit keeps happening. The thought keeps crossing my mind that I need to bring them more salt so they will stop torturing me like this. That's exactly what they want me to do, isn't it? I still have over half a bag of salt leftover from the last time. It will be a final resort for me if I can't get these demons out of my life by other means.

If you are reading this, please...