Alarmingly Strange Stories
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"St. Michael, Archangel of all angels, who defended God in Heaven, against the Devil, I call upon you now to defend us in battle against the Devil, whom I rebuke, and with God's help, send him to Hell, along with dark spirits who walk the Earth seeking to destroy men's souls. Amen." "God, although I am not worthy, send me a guardian angel to protect me from evil; I ask God to surround me, wrap me, in a bubble of divine grace and light to protect my soul and body from being tampered with. I ask that this white light of God's Grace and protection come into my soul to cleanse and purify it. I send out all my negativity, through this white light, like so much dark smoke, hurting no one. And I ask that God protects me in this white light, all day and especially, when I sleep, at night. Please God, protect me this day and every night. Amen." "St. Lucy, patron saint of blindness, give me vision to sense the invisible, to see into the darkness, to raise both my arms, in defense, against the darkness and to have the light, divine light, protect me against interdimensional, invisible beings, who mean me ill." I drift off, into an uneasy sleep. . If you BELIEVE strongly, that you are protected, somehow, they'll leave you alone. Why? Presence of mind is our greatest weapon; the ridicule factor, is their best 'defense'.Who, in one's 'right mind' can one even discuss these things with? Paper, is indeed, much more patient, than people. When did thing get worse? It started at 8:00 P.M., 1995, Saturday night , December 2nd, after a series of 22 ice storms, we, in New York sustained, that winter. The ground crunched under my feet; icy -snow- covered sidewalks, underfoot, total, thick overcast overhead.(Old temperature about 30o, and very little wind) I glanced up, overhead, coming into my backyard pantry door, dropped my groceries and stood, arms akimbo, staring up at a strange, but not yet disturbing or revealing sight. Overhead, a clean, crisp hole was cut into the overcast, revealing bright stars. It was as though a cookie- cutter had sliced a clean mile- circular hole, into the cloud - cover above. Everywhere else was thickly overcast, but almost at zenith was a perfect circle of clearing. What looked like a red child's balloon floated into view, a bright red against the stars and outlined blackness. The red balloon stopped, joined by two more, which joined the first. All three balloons hung red, overhead, stopped, in the center of the 'hole'. As I stared at neckbreaking zenith, puzzled at their not drifting, three more floated into view, at the rear of the growing formation, a flotilla, of red balloons. All hung motionless overhead as I felt a sense of awe grow; my mouth fell open with raw wonder. As one more joined, slowly from the rear, assembling North to South, overhead, a group of Seven escaped red- children's balloons, hovered in the center of a blackness with bright stars, cut into a heavy cloud cover. What were they? Balloons drift with the wind; they're not migrating, hovering birds; what are they!? I stared in wonder, awe tingling my forehead, stomach and arms. Their color changed from bright red to light lavender purple, all together, all at once. Quickly, like minnows in a pond, they peeled off in pairs, from West to East, heading toward Montauk, and were gone in several seconds leaving the hole overhead; twinkling with stars; empty. I am convinced that this "sighting" has everything to do with my spiritual and mental experiences of high strangeness. Did they climb down the ladder of my awe to find me? Or is it that my "sighting' was no 'accident'? Which one came first, the chicken or the egg? Maybe, it was the farmer that came first. Was that 'circle' for their needing visibility, or for me, needing visibility? These meddling, harassing, unseen entities may be, in fact, the occupants of those 'crafts' I stared at. I cannot be truly alone; they must be many; like me; aware, resistant, troubled, and amazed. If nothing else, these 'critters' have renewed wonder, in my life; the sense of AWE and faith; faith that the spirit world does, indeed, exist, and not only for malevolent entities. They've also destroyed the actuality and concept, itself, of getting a "good night's sleep." Sleep is now replete with danger and loss of control; consciousness and my astral body wander, unknowing, while I sleep, among beasities and monsters. My parents always told me, when I awoke from childhood nightmares that monsters did not exist; not real ones. But they were wrong. I was always taught; then, reasonably; that there was nothing in the darkness that wasn't already there in the daylight. They were wrong again. So with the newfound, long lost, sense of faith and awe comes fear of the nighttime; the seeming prime time for bedroom visitors' activities.

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