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The Freak

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The Freak

The Freak

I moved to the United States of America from Moscow, Russia, hoping for a better life for my dear daughter, Kira Baryshnikov. Our lives have changed in many ways since the move, and some have been better than others.

My name has a very important meaning. It means "immortal". My father named me that after my mother passed away while giving birth to me. During the birth of my daughter, Kira, we were going through very dark times. Kira’s name means "dark", by the way. She's eight years old and on a very strong medication to keep her stable. I feel that this is my fault.

About a year ago, I put together all of my money to buy a small house in a small town in Idaho, which about thirty-seven miles from this city called Boise. Shortly after moving into the house, strange things began to happen.

First, my daughter Kira started complaining of constant headaches. I assumed, at first, that these headaches were occurring because she was not getting enough sleep. Second, she complained of hearing whispers while she was trying to go to sleep. I took her to the doctor’s office but he could not find the issue. He said to me, “Keep a close eye on her,” which I did. Third, she claimed she was seeing someone in the night.

She said that the lady that she was seeing in the night would walk back and forth in her room and that she couldn’t sleep because of her. She stated that she would ask the lady to please leave and that she would reply, “I can’t do that.”

This terrified me. I took her to the local church, hoping we could get some answers there. We spoke to the priest; he told us that he could bless the house and try to repel any spirit that may be in the in there. I immediately agreed. Two days later, he arrived at our front door with a cross and holy water in hand. We followed him as he walked throughout the house. He would yell things such as, “You are not welcome here!” and “In the Lord's name, leave this house!”

He waved the cross and splashed the holy water in the areas that my daughter claimed to see the spirit. The priest demanded that he enter the guest room alone. We agreed to this, and let him proceed into the room. We waited about ten minutes, before hearing a scream of pure terror. The priest came running from the room and out through the front door, vomiting on the sidewalk. I ran to him with Kira by my side and asked him “Shit! What happened? What did you see?”

His only reply was, “Get out of that house. It is not safe in there.”

I wanted to leave, but I had nowhere else to go. We had just spent all of our money on that house. I was at a loss. So, with the last bit of money that I had, I hired a medium to try to make contact with this spirit. When she arrived, she introduced herself as Mary Johanson.

As she walked up to our house she had a very disturbing look on her face, like she was angry. As soon as she reached the house, she immediately came to a halt, staring silently at me. She said, “I cannot go in.” I asked why, and she replied, “I just can’t.”

After all these attempts to try to find out what has been tormenting my daughter, I started looking into it myself. I talked to the previous owner and she claimed she didn’t know much about the house herself. I went to the local library, after I was unable to find any information about the house on my computer.

After hours of searching, I finally found a book about the town’s history. To my surprise, I actually did find an article about the house. It used to belong to a woman named Kristen Jacobs. Kristen Jacobs was rumored to be insane by her neighbors. One day Kristen was diagnosed clinically insane, and she hung herself later that day.

After Kristen’s body was found, investigators searched her house (the house I now live in) and found many areas with traces of demonic rituals. I felt extremely nauseous and disturbed. I dropped the book on the floor and hurried home to my daughter who was being baby sat by our neighbor, Abby. When I arrived, the baby sitter was no were to be found; only my daughter was in sight. I ran to her and picked her up, she gasped and asked, “What’s wrong, Daddy?” I looked down and saw a horrifying picture she had painted. It was titled ‘The Freak’.

“Where is your babysitter?” I screamed.

“I’m not sure,” Kira replied to me. I was dumbfounded. While I was searching the house I discovered that I had searched every room, but I forgot to search the guest room. As I entered the guest room, I heard the faint voice of a woman.

“Who’s there? Is that you Abby?” the voice got louder and louder until the point that I could make out the words Please help.

I ran as fast as I could to the corner where the voice was coming from. I couldn’t see a thing. I thought fast and turned on my phone, using the light from the screen to see, I didn’t notice anything at first, until I looked up. There, right above my head, was a women hanging by a noose from the ceiling. I noticed blood dripping from this woman’s eyes and neck; she had pale, white skin.

I was paralyzed, I couldn’t move. I eventually was able to regain the function of my legs and scramble out of the room. I grabbed Kira and ran outside. I called 911 and as soon as they arrived I explained to them the situation. They had a hard time believing me, but I convinced them that they needed to go and investigate. They entered the room, and about three minutes later one police officer came out and told me that there was nothing in the room; only shelves, books, and a bed. I told him that was impossible; there was a woman in the room, I had seen her.

The officers left, but I know what I saw; I’m not crazy. Kira came up to me with her drawing. I looked at it carefully. “What is this?” I asked her.

“It’s the lady that likes to talk to me and sleeps in my room.”

“Talk to you? What do you mean?” I asked.

“She says her name is Kristen but she says I can just call her The Freak”.

I was speechless. I thought to myself, how the hell did she know about Kristen?! What’s going on?! And then Kira bit me and struggled to get out of my arms.

“She’s my friend now!” Kira yelled at me. I was stunned; I didn’t know what just happened. Before I could stop her, Kira ran into the guest room.

“Come back!” I yelled; the last thing I wanted to do was enter the guest room. But I had to! I needed to get my daughter! As I entered the room I heard Kira singing “Ring around the rosie” but I also heard a woman’s voice singing with my daughter.

“Who’s there? Get away from my daughter!” I yelled.

I heard Kira yell, “Don’t listen to him; he’s just a big meanie!”

I had no choice; I needed to get my daughter out of there. I ran into the room, feeling my way around because it was so dark. I felt Kira’s dress and yanked on it. “Come on Kira, we need to leave n-”

Before I could finish my sentence, I felt an unbearable pain on my neck. The pain jolted up, pulling me off my feet. I grasped my neck and felt something, it was a rope. I found myself almost two feet above the ground hanging only by my neck. I couldn’t breathe, I was helpless.

And then, after I had lost all hope, I fell to the ground, landing on my knees. I grabbed Kira and picked her up. While staggering out of the room I heard a demonic voice say, “Your God is useless!” Me and Kira managed to escape the house physically uninjured.

Since that incident Kira has not spoken, nor will she will make eye contact. She was diagnosed clinically insane about two months ago. We moved to Portland, Oregon. Even though Kira is not the same, I still love her with all my heart. Yet, I can't help feeling that we never did escape that thing we now call The Freak.

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