Tuesday, November 26, 2013
I had had it with The Cult that night. It was time to seriously mess with them and embarrass the hell out of them. That was what was going through my drunken mind as I set out to find their bible study and make them wish that they had never met me. I had stolen one of my psychotic roommate's wine and had drank pretty much the whole bottle by myself. It was plum wine and it tasted like it was a cheap, crappy wine but it made me feel better. It made me feel more relaxed, confident, and more than ready to take those cult leaders down. Besides, I was pretty sure I'd have hecklers on my side that would be rooting me on. People had started heckling The Cult leaders during bible study because they were taking up the room that had a huge TV in it and they were interrupting South Park, which a lot of the college students enjoyed watching but couldn't because the bible study was interfering with it.
It took me a while to get to the bible study because of how drunk I was. I hadn't really realized just how drunk I was until I started walking away from my dorm. My head was fuzzy and I kept tripping over virtually nothing but I was determined to accomplish my mission. So, gritting my teeth and cursing, I continued, making slow progress but progress nonetheless.
When I got there, the bible study was already in progress. The Chief was praying. Before and after each bible study, The Chief or Piggy would pray. This prayer was the intro to the bible study.
"Bla, bla, bla," I said loudly, right in the middle of The Chief's sentence.
"I don't really think god's listening to you. He couldn't care less what you fools are talking about."
I heard someone whistle from a ways away and I assumed it was one of the hecklers. They were in another room but they could still hear what I said apparently.
The Chief ignored me and continued to pray as if I hadn't even spoken. So I started singing:
Prayer sucks balls,
Prayer sucks balls!
God wishes you'd all just shut up,
He doesn't give a shit what you fools are saying anyway.
The Chief quickly ended his prayer and then said crossly, "Ashlee, you are being very rude! You know that it is not ok to pray."
"Are you drunk Ashlee?" Thief asked.
"Are you stupid?" I asked in return. It would have been obvious to even a retarded person that I was drunk.
"Yes, I am totally drunk and proud of it, too. I'm so glad I missed your ridiculous prayer."
"Ashlee, if you don't want to listen to the bible study, you really shouldn't be here," The Chief said.
"Neither should you!" One of the hecklers called.
"We're trying to watch TV here."
I hadn't noticed but someone had turned on the TV and had turned the volume up really loud, trying to block out The Chief's droning, boring voice as he began leading his pointless bible study that I'm sure nobody really wanted to hear.
"See, I've got someone on my side," I said and then laughed. By then, I had tripped on someone's foot or backpack or something and was sitting on the floor. However, I wasn't comfortable on the floor so I staggered to my feet and looked for an empty chair. There weren't any that I could see and nobody made any effort to get their fat, jesus asses up so I just plopped down on one of the members lap.
"Oh!" she exclaimed. She tried to buck me off but I pinned her down and said, "I'm not letting you up until you tell The Chief that his prayer sucked butt."
"Get off of me!" she cried.
Just then The Chief strolled over and picked me up off of her. He lead me to an empty chair, which just happened to be right up in front where he was sitting.
"How do you know that my prayer sucked?" he asked, trying to remain calm. I could hear the strain in his voice and I began laughing like a hyena.
"What's so funny?" he demanded.
"How do you know my prayer sucked when you didn't even arrive on time?"
"Your prayers always suck!" I yelled.
I mean, jesus h christ! Who in their right mind prays to jesus, thanking him for a glass of water before they drink it?"
"They pray before they drink a glass of water?" one of the hecklers asked, incredulous.
"They pray for every fucking thing. They pray to thank god before they eat. They pray before they are allowed to take the first sip of water from their glass. They pray for this campus because they feel that they need to convert every single student that goes to this college. As if they don't have enough psychotic followers, right?"
"Yeah, preach it sister!" A few of the hecklers yelled.
"Preach it, preach it, and preach it."
I noticed now that the TV was turned either all the way down or completely off. I had evidently grabbed the attention of the hecklers and they weren't annoyed at MY style of preaching.
Feeling encouraged I said, "You know, I haven't prayed to god for a long, long time. Praying totally sucks! When I used to pray to god and ask him for stuff, he would never answer my prayers. In fact, he would give me the exact opposite of what I wanted. Yeah, I can totally feel the love god, I totally feel it," I said sarcastically.
Then, turning to the direction of the hecklers, I said, "Don't you think that god has a funny way of showing his love for people?"
"Yeah, his love sucks!" They all bellowed.
"All right, all right," Banana called.
"Let's get on topic here. Chief is about to discuss a bible verse and then he wants us to discuss it in groups. Let's get on topic here, ok?"
"But her topic is way more interesting and entertaining than yours," one of the hecklers said.
The rest of the hecklers began booing The Cult leader and Banana and I joined right along with them. Once it had quieted some, I said, "You know, what I've found out with my praying experience is that you actually get what you want and what you asked for when you don't actually pray at all. Oh, and, when I used to pray at night before I went to sleep, the next day always sucked balls for me. It was like god was punishing me for praying to him, even though in the bible he demands everyone to pray to him. But I don't see the appeal in praying, especially when god turns his back and makes the next day a living hell because you did what he asked us to do."
"Well, perhaps you aren't having a positive experience with prayer because you aren't thanking god for enough of the gifts that he gives us," The Chief suggested, clearly trying to rebuke me for crashing his bible study.
"I used to thank god for stuff," I said.
"It never did a damn bit of good. I guess I never thanked him for a glass of water before I drank like you freaks do but that just seemed psychotic to me and I bet it makes all the angels in heaven and even god himself laugh at you little shit heads for clogging up his ears with useless prayers."
"But there are a lot of people in this world who are hungry," Thief cried.
"Yeah, and there are also lots of people who are dying of thirst because of drought," one of the members exclaimed.
"Well, they probably have prayed to god asking for water and he probably denied all their requests because that's the kind of god they worship," I said, pointing rudely at The Cult people.
"Their god, whom they claim over and over is the epitome of love, is really an asshole who lets people starve and die of thirst and suffer because he knows he can let it happen. After all, he is in control of all things, yes?"
"Well, not with everything," one of the hecklers said cheerfully.
"Satan has power and control, too. After all, many psycho jesus freaks believe that the whole world is run by Satan."
"I think it is run by Satan because god does such a shitty job of running it," another heckler agreed.
"Satan saw that god just wasn't fit to run the world and so he took over and god is bitter about it. He's too busy pouting and throwing a toddler tantrum to care about the hungry and the ill and the thirsty and other kinds of ailing people in the world."
The Chief finally stood up. I think he was standing up so he could try and intimidate me with his monstrous height but it didn't work. I said to everyone in the room, "Thanks for listening everybody. I just wanted to tell you all that my life got a hell of a lot better once I stopped praying. My days got better and I found myself using way less energy in everyday life now that I am without the burden of prayer. I get to take a bite of food much faster than I did when I used to thank god for it because I thought I had to. My food is less cold and more delicious now that I have stopped thanking god for it. And, I get to masturbate before I go to bed instead of pray and ask for things, only to be rejected. Masturbating before bed is way more satisfying than praying before bed is. Try it sometime; you'll see just how right I am."
The hecklers all started clapping as I got up and stumbled my way out of the room. By then, I was really feeling like I was going to black out. I needed to get home soon.
"You rock sister," one of the hecklers said to me as I walked out of the building.
"Come back again."
"Oh, believe me, I will," I said.
"Smm Smm, Smm Smm, Smm Smm!"
Then I left the building and staggered all the way home, falling down a lot on the way but laughing all the while at my victorious night.
That night, when the hangover finally hit, I still felt satisfied and proud of myself. I didn't mind the pounding headache or the nausea. I knew that I would never have had the courage to crash the bible study if I hadn't been drunk. And, what made it even sweeter was that my roommate discovered that her wine had gone missing and it made her scream like a little toddler throwing a temper tantrum because that's what she did when she got angry. All of my demons were proud of me, too. I knew that eventually I'd get a huge lecture from one of The Cult leaders, or maybe even all of them plus some of the hard core members who had been deeply offended by my speech, but I didn't care. Sometimes in life, you have to face consequences when you do something that you enjoy and most of the time; the consequences are worth paying because of how satisfying doing the naughty thing ended up being.
Monday, November 18, 2013
Everything was too still and plain around me. People were going about their ordinary lives, either doing errands or going to work or visiting boring friends and relatives of theirs. In any event, everything just seemed too dull and boring and my demons could not have agreed more. It amazed me a great deal of the time how so many people in the world lead such boring, uneventful, unproductive lives. Not only did that amaze me, but the fact that they were ok with living such dull, uninteresting lives completely boggled my mind. No wonder so many people seem so depressed and bored all the time. It's because they live such boring lives and, in general, most people that I knew at the time anyway, were boring as hell. Just having a conversation with them for more than five minutes either made me fall asleep with sheer boredom or I was bored to almost literal tears.
As my demons were pondering this with me on this too still and dull of a day, it hit me that I could do something to change that boring, dull feeling that seemed to suffocate me wherever I went. It so happened that I knew just how to make the day more interesting and who I wanted to do it with. My demons started doing cartwheels and somersaults with excitement as we got ready to go on our mission to cause trouble and stir up all the boring people we could find. Birthday Girl and I had started talking a lot pretty much right after I was forced to attend her birthday party at the bar and restaurant. She had decided that I was cool and interesting and I had decided that about her. The thing that made me decide that she would be an all right friend to have around and cause trouble with was when she started obsessively watching the Satanis documentary online that I recommended for her to watch to learn more about Satanism. She told me that she would watch it three, four, five, sometimes even six times a day if life was dull and she had nothing better to do. But what really made me like her enough to where I decided I wanted to be her friend was when she started walking around with her phone and showing as many people as she could the Satanis documentary. She even got around to showing The Cult leaders and members, much to their dismay. Birthday Girl showed the documentary to both people who were really disturbed by Satan and also to people who thought that Satan was actually fascinating. She took the most pleasure in showing it to people who were uptight and very uncomfortable with Satanism and the fact that Satanists actually do exist, though. Like me, she liked to see the reactions of disgust and shock from people who greatly disapproved of Satan and his followers.
It didn't take long for The Cult leaders to really regret their decision about having guilted me into going to her stupid birthday party. In their minds, Birthday Girl would never have started taking such an intense interest in Satan if I hadn't been their to "Corrupt her mind," as they often said it when people did things that The Cult leaders didn't approve of. I, on the other hand, was quite content with their decision to have guilted me into going to the party because I don't think I would have gotten to know Birthday Girl better if I hadn't really had a chance to sit down and witness to her about Satan, which was what I did when I was at her lame party. I'm also pretty sure that we wouldn't have became friends and gotten the lucky opportunity to cause so much trouble, which was exactly what we did whenever we were with each other. Don't get me wrong, Birthday Girl and I definitely caused a great deal of trouble when we weren't hanging out but we caused even more trouble when we were together. We fed off of each others ideas and we really managed to disturb and disgust a countless number of people, much to our utter joy and wicked satisfaction.
It wasn't long before Birthday Girl and I hooked up that day. She, too, was feeling bored and oddly melancholy. So I said, "Well, let's get rid of that melancholy feeling and go cause some trouble, shall we?"
"What should we do?" she asked.
"We should walk around town and yell 'Hail Satan!' to people."
Birthday Girl lived in a conservative town only about twenty minutes or so away from the college campus. Her town was way more conservative than the town where I lived. Birthday Girl cheered up at once. She absolutely LOVED yelling "Hail Satan!" to people. At first, when I showed her how I walked around and yelled it to random strangers, she didn't seem like she felt comfortable doing it. She said that she didn't want people to think she was crazy. At that, I had remarked, "That's the fun part, though, making people think that you are crazy. Come on, just yell it once. If you don't like it, you don't have to do it anymore. But you gotta try it because it's really fun and just listen to how disgusted those people all are."
So she had tried it and she had immediately fallen in love with walking around and yelling "Hail Satan!" to total strangers. However, she had only yelled it in my town, where people were less uptight and were actually starting to embrace Satan because of Antichris's Satan project and because of all the Satanic fliers he was putting up all over campus and all over town. She had never tried yelling it in her conservative, boring little town, though, and that sent a thrill up and down her whole body as well as mine.
"Before I go, let's smoke some pot," she suggested.
"I hate smoking stuff," I told her.
"Just try it. You'll choke at first but you'll get used to it and then it doesn't make you cough so much."
"All right," I said, not wanting to sound too lame. After all, Birthday Girl had embraced the idea of Satanism so eagerly and enthusiastically. I didn't want to be the wet blanket, too lame to try smoking a little pot from a bong. What was the worst that could happen anyway?
She brought the bong out and, after a minute of watching her smoke it, I leaned in and inhaled. I began choking and coughing and wheezing immediately. My lungs felt like they were engulfed in flames, with a searing, burning pain shooting off all around in my throat.
"Ok, ok, take it easy Ashlee," Birthday Girl soothed.
"Try again. This time, don't inhale so fast."
"No fucking way bitch," I told her.
"I ain't smoking any more of this shit. It's all yours."
"How are we going to cause trouble if we aren't both high?" she whined.
"I'm cool," I told her, arrogantly, which is exactly something my dad would have said if he were present.
"I don't need to get high to be able to be a good witness for Satan."
"Hold on a minute," Birthday Girl said and she breezed out of the room to her room. Her roommate Rebecca was home and she couldn't stop laughing at me for practically having an asthma attack over one little intake of pot.
"Oh, shut the fuck up!" I yelled, but I was smiling now, mostly recovered from my bout of coughing.
Birthday Girl quickly returned with a tincture. Well, I didn't know what it was at first until she explained it to me. She said, "Ok, I think you'll like this much, much better. This is a tincture. It's got pot in it but you don't have to smoke it. It's in liquid form. It tastes really nasty, which is why I prefer to smoke weed rather than take it in drops like this but I think it'll be better for you this way."
"You could have freaking given that to me the first time," I grumbled, still feeling queasy from inhaling all that disgusting, stinky weed. I was a little reluctant to try the liquid drops of pot but, after Birthday Girl urged me on for a while and even said a little prayer to Satan that I would stop being such a stick in the mud, I decided I'd try it. I must say, it was MUCH better than smoking it.
Yes, it did taste absolutely nasty but at least I knew I wasn't going to choke to death getting high that way. We got a little stoned, and then a lot stoned. Before long, we were laughing at every single thing we said. We also started getting our words mixed up and laughing even harder about that.
"All right, let's go yell 'Hail Satan!' to those people," Birthday Girl said.
"Where should we go?" I asked, feeling slightly lightheaded from the pot but otherwise, eager to go out there and bring as many people as I could to Satan. Or, better yet, make as many people as I could mad and disturbed and disgusted.
"I have to go to Fred Meyer," Rebecca said to us.
"You guys can yell it there while I shop."
"Ok!" we both cried and ran for the door and jumped in the car.
The parking lot was jam packed with people, shopping carts, and cars. Birthday Girl whistled with pleasure and I yelled, "Yes! Hail Satan! Hail Satan! There are people here! Rebecca, park the damn car already so we can begin to witness already."
As soon as she parked, Birthday Girl and I flung our doors open and both of us began yelling "Hail Satan! Hail Satan!" and "Hail Satan!"
Nobody said anything to us but Birthday Girl nearly fell over in a fit of laughter, which naturally set me off.
"What is it, what is it?" I asked once I could speak again.
"Oh Ashlee, didn't you see all those dirty looks we got? Someone even flipped us off."
"No you idiot, I'm blind, remember?" I shot back. Of course, that set us off laughing again.
When we recovered, I yelled to someone who was walking really slowly with a shopping cart or a stroller or whatever in the hell it was, "Hey, come back! Come back! Don't you want to hear the good news about Satan?"
The person kept moving. Birthday Girl ran up to the person and grabbed one of its arms.
"Hey!" It was a woman, and none too happy of a woman either I must say.
"Let go of my arm!"
"Oh, just wait a minute," Birthday Girl said, giggling.
"There is so much joy in Satan, so much wonderful stuff to hear about Him. Don't you want us to tell you all about Satan?"
"No, I do not!" the woman said sternly and jerked her arm out of Birthday Girl's hand.
As she started walking really slowly away, I reached my cane out and hit her in the backs of her legs, yelling "Hee-yaaaaaa!"
"Ouch!" the woman cried and I yelled, "Sorry about that. Hail Satan!"
There was a woman with a bunch of kids walking out of the store just then. I walked up to them and said, "Satan loves you all. Such adorable kids you have. Want to say thank you to Satan for them? We'll pray to Satan for you."
"Yeah, we will!" Shrieked Birthday Girl.
"We love to pray to Satan. We LIVE to pray for Satan and to glorify Him."
"How could you do this?" the woman hissed.
"I've got three kids right here and you two are shamelessly talking about the Devil!"
She hissed the word Devil out between her teeth. Laughing, I said, "Satan loves little kids, too. We don't want to hurt anybody; we just want to tell the world about Satan."
"Mommy, why do those girls keep laughing?" One of the kids asked.
"Mommy, who is Satan?" Another younger kid asked.
"See what you've done?" the woman snapped.
"You should be ashamed of yourselves."
"Well, we're not," Birthday Girl said.
"You should be the one who is ashamed of yourself for not educating your kids about Satan. You're probably one of those overbearing moms who shove jesus down their throats and make them go to church, aren't you, aren't you, aren't you?"
At the repetitive song of "Aren't you's?", that Birthday Girl was saying, I joined in singing, "Yeah, aren't you, aren't you, aren't you, aren't you? Hail Satan, hail Satan, hail Satan, hail Satan!"
"All right you two, that's enough!"
We turned around to find Rebecca standing there, furious with us. She grabbed both of our shoulders and tried to steer us towards her car.
"Do you seriously want us to be arrested or something? Someone's bound to call security any damn minute and I haven't even gotten a chance to do any of my fucking shopping."
"Why not?" I asked innocently.
"Yeah," Birthday Girl piped up.
"Isn't that the whole reason why we came here anyway? So you could do your precious shopping?"
"And so I could get you two lunatics out of my house," she spat at us.
"Now get in the damn car and shut up. I'm going to lock you two in there so I can do my shopping. I'll be back in a minute."
"Oh, no you're not going to lock me in there!" I yelled, all the laughter gone from me.
"I've been locked in a car before and I'll be damned if I let you do that to me right now. I'll be damned if I let ANYBODY EVER do that to me again!"
"All right, all right, calm down," Rebecca said, clearly seeing the panic that started erupting inside of me.
"I won't lock you in the car but, please, for the love of god, can you PLEASE not grab people's arms and scare little children today?"
"It's not for the love of god, it's for the love of Satan!" Birthday Girl hollered.
"How stupid are you anyway?"
As soon as she let us go, Birthday Girl and I started walking towards people's cars. I tapped her on the shoulder and said, "Hey Birthday Girl, you know how those psycho Christians walk up to people's cars and drop their literature in through open windows or how they will talk to people when they are sitting in their cars minding their own business?"
"Yeah," she responded.
"Well, wouldn't it be funny if we did that to people? You know, went up to their cars and told them that we were a part of the Satanic Missionary and that we wanted to tell them about the joy of Satan if they are interested."
"Yes, yes, YES!" she exclaimed.
"I'll look for cars with people in them."
She hauled me along. As we walked, I continued yelling "Hail Satan, hail Satan, Satan loves you!" to people. Once, I even stopped and grabbed ahold of someone's shopping cart because I was tired of being ignored. Once I had fully managed to get that person's attention, I said, "Satan really loves you. Can't you feel his Dark, Unholy spirit coursing through your veins right now?"
"You fucking weirdo, let go of my cart before I call the cops," a guy with a nasal voice growled.
"What the hell is wrong with this generation of people anyway? Nobody ever even thought of Satanism when I was growing up."
"Times have changed, my lame, boring, pathetic, pitiful old man," I said.
"Satanists are all over the place now. You just never know when you will find yourself eating right next to a Satanist in a restaurant or find yourself in the bank with one. Hell, did you know that Satanists are even beginning to congregate downtown and have cookies once a month? Yes my old friend, Satanists are everywhere. Perhaps the person who made the very cart that your ugly hands are touching was a Satanist. You just never know."
"Don't call me your friend," he growled.
"I am not your friend."
He walked quickly away, grumbling to himself as he walked. Every five or ten steps, he'd turn around and make sure that we weren't following him. Or, perhaps, he was looking over his shoulder to see if there might be other Satanists that were following him that wanted to tell him the great news about Satan. Or, just maybe, he really believed what I said about Satanists being everywhere and he really was starting to flip out. All of those possibilities made me feel very happy. I let a slow, evil grin slide over my face. I was having such a fantastic time! Who knew how much fun it could be to get high on weed and proselytize about Satan to random, conservative, boring, uptight strangers who clearly didn't want anything to do with Satan or his followers?
We were in luck with finding some people in their cars. A few people were just parking their cars and had just turned their engines off when we ran up to their doors and opened them before the drivers could get out. We earned a lot of "Hey, get the hell away from me, you crazy animals!" We also got a lot of, "What, are you guys high or something?" Someone asked us if we had mental illnesses and if we needed someone to call an ambulance to ship us off to the loony bin. That, of course, set us off in bouts of hysterical laughter that we could not control for several minutes.
When we were asked those sorts of questions, we just laughed and said, "No, we're not mentally ill or anything, we're just wanting to talk to you about the great news about our Great Teacher Satan! We're a part of the Satanic Missionary. Would you like to hear more about Satan now that you know we're safe people?"
"No, get away from me!" were the responses we mostly got. But as they got out of their cars, we followed them to the entrance of the store, yelling "Hail Satan, hail Satan, hail Satan! Satan loves you! Hey, if you change your minds, come back to us. Satan loves you!"
The one response that really sticks in my mind came from a woman. Birthday Girl said that she didn't really look that old but her voice sure as hell sounded like the voice of a granny. We had just pulled open her car door because it wasn't locked and we yelled in her face, "Hail Satan! Welcome to Fred Meyer, hail Satan! Satan brought you here for a reason, so you could meet us and hear all about Him and His evil works that we love!"
The woman was pretty calm. All she did was mumble softly, "Just get me through another day lord, just get me through another day. Merry Christmas, merry Christmas, merry Christmas. Just get me through another day lord, just another day."
"Merry Christmas?!!!" I laughed.
"Christmas is so long past now. What planet are you on lady?"
"Just another day Lord, just get me through another day," she kept babbling.
She then abruptly shut her car door, locked it, and rolled up her windows and sat there, rocking back and forth in her seat. Birthday Girl said her lips were moving so she was probably still repeating the same thing over and over to herself.
I yelled to her, "Yes, talk to our Dark Lord, he's listening, unlike the other lord, the Christian lord. Yes, talk to Satan, that's right old lady, that's right! See, Satan isn't such a bad guy, he won't hurt you. Hey Birthday Girl, I think we've got a follower, she's talking to Lord Satan!"
"No she's not!"
Birthday Girl and I jumped as Rebecca came barreling towards us.
"Get in the mother fucking car!" she bellowed.
"We're leaving now. I've been following you two this whole time, too afraid to leave you behind. People all over are thinking that you two were trying to hijack people's cars or mug them or something. What the fuck's wrong with you? Maybe you two DO have a mental condition. I'm about to call the nuthouse myself."
"Oh, loosen up old granny," I taunted.
"At least we're having fun, unlike all these other ordinary people who just walk aimlessly through their sad little lives with nothing entertaining and fun going on. Why do you think so many people commit suicide anyway? It's because they're so freaking boring!"
But, as it happened, the pot was actually wearing off and, with that wearing off, came a great desire to cuddle up against my seat and take a nap. Birthday Girl seemed to be feeling the same way because she willingly went with Rebecca to the car, though we continued mercilessly taunting her all the way.
All my demons were tired, too. They had never before actually caused that kind of trouble before that involved opening people's car doors and pulling on the handles of shopping carts. Sure, we all got to yell "Hail Satan!", when we were with Antichris but even he had a limit for how much trouble we should cause while we were with him.
We were silent and sleepy the whole way back home. I sighed in contentment and told my demons, Rebecca, and Birthday Girl, "Today was a fairy tale."
"Amen sister! Hail Satan!" Birthday Girl responded and then we nodded off into dark, wicked, demonic sleep.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
It was a quiet, boring evening in my dorm. My roommates were home but they were all locked up in their rooms, watching movies on their computers or doing their homework or obsessively checking their facebook accounts. Normally, I was all right being surrounded by quiet, but that evening I was feeling feisty, and in great need to cause trouble. I had work that I should have been tending to but doing work just didn't seem like it would quench my need for causing trouble. Doing work is boring. Causing trouble, on the other hand, can entertain someone for hours if they know how to cause the trouble right and make it last for a long time.
I wasn't the only one feeling particularly feisty. All of my demons were jumping on my bed and running around my dorm room like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. They were tired of being cooped up in the dorm and they wanted to cause trouble, too.
"All right you guys, why don't you all quit yelling and tell me what kind of trouble you think we should cause tonight," I said.
For once, all of my demons all agreed on one idea tonight. Usually, they all had different ideas of what kind of trouble to cause and they ended up fighting with each other about whose idea was better. Tonight, though, they all spoke in unison and no squabbles broke out. That was utterly amazing. Ninety-nine percent of the time, they are all fighting with each other over everything so it took me off guard that they all wanted to do the same thing.
"Let's call The Chief and mess with him!" They all crowed.
"How do we mess with him tonight?" I asked. Ideas started swarming all around in my head but my demons already had an idea picked out. And quite a brilliant idea, too, I must add.
"Let's call The Chief and confess to him about why you always say Smm Smm!" They cried.
"Let's confess to The Chief about how demonic Smm Smm is. Let's freak him out and make him twitch again."
The Chief had a way of twitching visibly when something really, really disturbed him. My demons and I witnessed him twitch a while back and we all thought that was priceless. We wanted him to do it again.
"That's a great idea!" I exclaimed.
"The only thing is, we won't get to actually watch him twitch because he's not here."
"That's ok Mommy," Mary Meyers said.
"We'll all know in our black, demonic, wicked hearts that he's twitching. We'll tell you when he starts to twitch. Come on, come on, let's call him already!"
"All right, all right," I said and went to my phone, which was lying on my desk.
"Let's cause some real trouble."
The Chief answered his phone after a few rings. "Hi Ashlee Smashlee," he said, sounding really excited that I had called him.
"Hi there Chief," I said.
"What are you doing right now? It sounds like you're driving."
"I am," The Chief responded.
"I'm driving home from visiting my parents and a friend of mine. What's up?"
"Well, I know it's against the law to talk on the phone while driving but I really need to talk to you right now. It's urgent!"
"Urgent? What's wrong? What has happened? Has Satan finally shown his true colors like I told you he would? Are you hurt? I can pull over and pray if that's what you need."
"Well, I wouldn't say that Satan has shown any true colors actually. It's kind of difficult to explain," I told him, trying to make my voice sound nervous and heavily convicted like major sinners sound when they are confessing to a priest at a confessional.
"I'm listening," he said, his voice sounding grim and strained. He was putting on his priest voice I guess and quite a pathetic version of that, too I must add.
"Well, I have something I really need to confess to you. It's really been bothering me for some time now. Every time I try to tell you about it, I chicken out or something stops me."
"Something stops you? Hmmmmm, like is it a demon stopping you?"
"Possibly," I told him, biting my lower lip really hard to try and kill the laughter that was bubbling up inside myself and trying to burst through me.
"Help me here!" I thought to my demons silently.
"Help me not laugh. This won't work if I bust up laughing."
As soon as I felt like I could go on, I said, "Well, god's really been convicting me and telling me that I need to confess to you about why I say Smm Smm so much and who Smm Smm really is."
"Smm Smm actually IS something?" The Chief asked, his voice going up higher with every word.
"Yeah, Smm Smm is an actual thing."
"Well, what is he?" I could tell The Chief was really afraid to ask but he felt like he had to. Quite possibly, he thought that he felt god convicting his heart and demanding him to be strong for me while I handed him this hefty, bitter confession that I'd been too afraid and ashamed to talk about for a long time. Or, that's at least what he thought was going on. He had no idea that I was just messing with him for a half hour or more of entertainment on a boring, gloomy night.
"Smm Smm is a demon," I told him, making sure to make my voice slow and unsure so that he'd think I was scared and ashamed to go on.
"A demon? And where did, ahem, Smm Smm come from?"
The Chief always cleared his throat when something made him uncomfortable or when there was a word he didn't want to say out loud. I was quite shocked that he even managed to say Smm Smm.
"Well, he came to me from Satan I guess. You see, Smm Smm told me that he was brought before me as a gift from Satan himself. Smm Smm said that I could use him, meaning Smm Smm, when I needed to have a direct conversation with the Devil. Smm Smm is sort of like the direct path leading to Satan."
There was a long silence while The Chief pondered this disturbing confession. I took advantage of this silence and went on.
"I've tried to rebuke Smm Smm but he said that I cannot get rid of him. He says that Satan gave him direct orders to stay with me forever. And while Smm Smm stays with me, his job is to help guide me away from jesus and closer to Satan. So, Smm Smm was sent by Satan himself to lead me from the right hand path to the left hand path so that I can learn to embrace selfishness, wickedness, and other forms of sinfulness. There is absolutely nothing I can do to get rid of Smm Smm."
"How do you feel about that Ashlee?" The Chief asked, a clear note of concern etching his voice.
"Well, that's the disturbing part to me!" I cried, trying my best to sound like I was really scared and frantic for The Chief's advice.
"I actually like having Smm Smm around. I know it's very wrong to want a demon of Satan to live inside my soul and that it is a huge sin to want to invoke him every second that I am awake, but I do. I really love Smm Smm, which is why I say it so much. When I say Smm Smm, it is because I am praising him. I am showing him that his name is truly important to me and that I am proud of what he has been sent out to do for me and to me."
I had told my demons that I wouldn't be able to tell if The Chief was twitching because we weren't in the same room as each other, but, boy was I wrong. A strange sound came from The Chief that I could easily hear, even though we were both using cell phones and the sound of the road that he was driving on was quite noisy. The Chief began to make a "Ch Ch Ch," sound with his mouth. It reminded me of the sounds my ex drum teacher used to make when he tought me how to get better at playing the drums. You see, my drum teacher had Tourrette's Syndrome and so he often experienced facial ticks that made him make sounds like "Ch Ch Ch," when his face twitched.
Well, now The Chief was making those sounds and I knew he wasn't trying to make the "Ch," sound voluntarily. He was twitching involuntarily and, obviously the twitching was severe because it forced him to make that sound.
"Hey Chief, are you all right?" I asked him, pretending to be really concerned but really I was dying with trying to hold back wild laughter inside. I told my demons I didn't know how much longer I could stay on the phone with The Chief and try to pull this confession off because it was too hard to hold back the laughter. No matter how hard I bit my lip and felt pain, the laughter was becoming harder and harder to control.
"We'll help Mommy," they all assured me.
"Just stay on the phone a little bit longer. He's really disturbed now. Did you hear him twitch?"
"Oh Ashlee, Ashlee, Ashlee," The Chief said in a choked voice.
"This is really, really bad. This involves doing some serious praying to try and get him out of you."
"But that's just it, Chief," I said, trying to make myself sound hysterical. That wasn't too hard because the laughter made my voice sound really high and frantic.
"He can't be exorcised from me. He's here forever. And, you can't mess with Smm Smm or he will seek revenge on those who mess with him. Do you want to know why I say Smm Smm instead of just Smm?"
"Why?" he said in a voice that was almost a whisper.
"I have to say Smm Smm because, if I just say Smm, I will be eternally cursed. Everybody has to say Smm Smm just like that or else they will be eternally cursed. Smm Smm also really gets pleased when people give him extra glory by saying Smm Smm, Smm Smm instead of just Smm Smm. But you can never just call him Smm or else you'll be in big trouble. Your soul will be eternally damned."
A gasp rose from The Chief and he cried out in earnest horror, "Oh god, oh god, you DO always say it in pairs! I've never, EVER heard you just say Smm. You always say Smm Smm. I always wondered why it always was said two times because it is all the same word. It would be like repeating snail two times, like snail snail."
The Chief was rambling now, clearly beyond disturbed. Before he could talk further and really make the laughter get out of my control once and for all, I said, "Chief, you don't get it, Smm Smm is not a word, it's a name! It's my demon's name and Smm Smm demands people to respect it and say it in pairs. If you say Smm Smm, Smm Smm, you get more brownie points."
"I don't want to say it," The Chief whispered.
Then the laughter hit me hard and solid. "This isn't funny Ashlee!" The Chief shouted.
"I know, I know," I shrieked, trying to reign in the violent surges of hysterical laughter that I was quickly losing control of.
"That wasn't me laughing, that was Smm Smm making me laugh. He really wants you to say Smm Smm, Smm Smm. He doesn't understand why you don't want to use his name. He says it can't hurt you. Well, it can't hurt you unless you only say Smm one time."
Just then, The Chief groaned and yelled, "Oh FUCK!"
"What's the matter Chief?" I asked him.
"Did Smm Smm really just make you say the F word? I didn't even know you knew how to use that word. I mean, you did use it once before but then I thought that god erased it from your pure, sin free brain."
"I have to go Ashlee!" He yelled.
"I'm being pulled over by a cop. Oh god, oh god, oh god, please, please, please help me. Oh god, oh god."
The phone went dead as he hung up on me. And then, with a heaving breath, I let go and a volcanic eruption of laughter shot out of me, loud, obnoxious, and purely wicked. I couldn't have cared less if I was annoying my roommates. I had held it in long enough and, for Satan's sake, I just had to let it out before it literally caused me to explode entirely.
About twenty or thirty minutes later, The Chief called me back. I answered the phone by saying, "Hi Smm Smm!"
"Don't call me that!" he yelled.
"Why do you always say Smm Smm to people? It's like you are calling us, ahem, ahem, Smm Smm."
He said Smm Smm in a choked whisper.
"How do you mean," I asked innocently.
"Well, you're always like, 'Hi Smm Smm,' and 'Oh, thank you Smm Smm,' and 'Smm Smm,' this and 'Smm Smm,' that! It makes me sick!"
"I have to say Smm Smm all the time or he'll get jealous. It's the same reason why you always feel the need to praise god so much. And I'm not calling anybody Smm Smm, I'm just saying Smm Smm because I love him and I can't stop loving him. I have to praise him, too, just like you give grace to god and thank him for food and church and freedom of religion and even for a bloody glass of freaking water!"
"Smm Smm belongs to Satan!" The Chief shouted.
"god is pure, the shining example of love and perfection. Your demon is evil and he must be exorcised from your soul! Anything is possible with god, everything is! Smm Smm is just trying to make you believe that he can never leave your soul or be exorcised but that's a lie Ashlee, a nasty, rotten lie that Satan is feeding to you through the demon that is invading your soul. He is not YOUR demon Ashlee, he belongs only to Satan. Never call him your demon and stop saying his name all the time."
"I can't, I can't. I'm in too deep. Smm Smm is a part of me now. What do I do now Chief?"
"Dammit to hell Ashlee, I don't know. We need to pray and I'm pulled over on the side of the road now but, dammit to hell Ashlee, I got a speeding ticket. I guess hearing about the demon made me drive faster. I just want to go home."
"I'm sorry you got a speeding ticket," I said, false sympathy oozing from my voice.
"Perhaps if you had said Smm Smm, Smm Smm, he would have given you extra brownie points for the extra praise and you wouldn't have gotten pulled over. There really is power in Smm Smm. I just felt like I had to tell you about it, confess to you my weakness, get it all out in the open."
"I'm glad you did," The Chief said. He didn't sound lively and perky anymore. It seemed that all the life had drained right out of him. After taking deep, shaky breaths and still making that "Ch Ch Ch," sound, he began to pray.
"Lord!" He said in a harsh, angry voice.
"Ashlee needs help now. I command you to rebuke Satan from her soul and to order the demon, ahem, Smm Smm out of her soul this minute. Send that awful serpent of Satan down, down, down to the fiery pit of hell. Let that evil seed of Satan rot in the pit in hell that the Devil has dug specifically for Smm Smm and let him stay there for eternity so that he never again can enter Ashlee's soul or anybody else's soul again. Ashlee is being tormented by this demon and quite possibly other demons. After all, she often talks in different pitches and voices so Smm Smm must not be the only demon invading her soul and leeching the life from her pure, innocent heart. god, I ask you to protect Ashlee and to purify her heart and to preserve it so that only you have the power to enter her heart and give her strength and healing. Bring her back to the bible studies again, make her back into the Ashlee Smashlee she used to be, on fire and sold out hot for you jesus. I ask this in your holy name, amen."
"Amen Smm Smm," I said.
"No, don't say Smm Smm!" he yelled.
"Just say amen but nothing else."
"Ok, sorry, I'll try again."
After a few seconds to make sure I would not laugh again, I said, "Ok, well, um, amen Smm Smm."
"No, no, no, stop saying Smm Smm!"
"I can't, he's too much a part of me. No amount of praying will change that Chief. You can't exorcise him. Nobody can. I just called to confess and ask you what I should do about Smm Smm now that he's in my soul forever."
"No, he's not going to be there forever, try to just say amen again. Without saying that awful thing after that."
"Amen Smm Smm, Smm Smm," I said.
This made him even more frantic that I said Smm Smm, Smm Smm instead of just Smm Smm. He could tell that his efforts were futile, that they were just making the situation worse. He said, "I will be back soon, can I come over and lay my hands on you and pray? I also think I need to pray in your room and all around the house to rebuke all the demons that live there. Perhaps your roommates want prayer, too."
"I'm leaving soon, I have an appointment I just can't miss. Thank you for talking to me Smm Smm. Sorry about your speeding ticket."
"Your welcome Ashlee," he said, clearly beyond furious that I said thank you Smm Smm instead of saying thank you Chief. He hated that it sounded like I was calling him Smm Smm, especially after that jaw dropping, earth shattering confession that I just presented him with.
Before we hung up, I said to taunt The Chief, "Don't make yourself all hysterical now Chief. Remember, burdens are supposed to be placed on god, not us. Ask your god what to do and maybe he'll give you some answers. I'll see what Smm Smm wants me to do."
"No Ashlee, you need to pray to jesus, not Smm Smm. And he's not just my god, he's YOUR god, too, jesus christ I mean, not the demon from Satan."
"Sure sure," I said dismissively to The Chief and then I said, "Bye Smm Smm." Then, before I could hang up, The Chief moaned like he had been bitten by a poisonous snake, and hung up on me abruptly. I set my phone on my desk and then surrendered myself to the volcano of laughter that desperately needed to be released from my black, Satanic heart for the whole dorm to hear.
Friday, November 15, 2013
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Who: Ashlee the Blind Satanist
What: Listen to The Blind Satanist read selections from her new collection of short stories about leaving an evangelical christian cult and discovering Satanism and BDSM
When: Thursday, January 9, 2014 7:00 PM (Invite your friends on the Facebook event page: https://www.facebook.com/events/432738153514751/ )
Where: Last Word Books ( http://www.lastwordbooks.org ) @ 211 4th Ave Olympia WA 98501
Why: Satan Loves You!
It was a dreary, cold day outside and I was hunkered down in my dorm room. For days I had been feeling very, very anxious and the anxiety would not go away. No matter how many relaxation techniques I tried or how many hot, soothing baths I took, it did not let up. I had been under immense pressure from The Cult and it was finally making me crack.
The Cult leaders and members were angry at me for hanging out with the Antichris. As far as they were concerned, he was a tool of Satan. In their minds, Satan was using the Antichris to tempt me away from jesus so that I would start following Satan. I had been distancing myself from The Cult more and more, skipping many bible studies and not returning any of their calls, and that infuriated them, especially The Chief and Piggy, the two main leaders of The Cult. The Chief and Piggy could not see why on Earth anyone would want to quit going to bible study and hanging out with them. In their minds, there was only one reason. That reason was my Dark, Unholy Lord Satan!
I had a different opinion from The Cult leaders, though. I was starting to notice dramatic changes in my mood when I was distancing myself from them. I noticed right away that I started feeling less anxious and more upbeat. Antichris didn't make me feel guilty, unlike The Cult leaders and hard core members, who thrived on making as many people as possible feel guilty about everything. Mostly, The Cult made people feel guilty about being happy and doing things that they enjoyed. Joy, it seemed, was a huge taboo in The Cult. I was starting to realize that I was way happier and way better off away from The Cult than I was when I was at their bible studies and other meetings. Antichris said that I seemed happier, too.
When my anxiety started acting up again, though, I had started visiting them again and going to bible studies, much to Antichris's dismay and Satan's dismay. I just wasn't ready to break away from them yet, though I felt like a break was about to take place soon. As far as Satan and my demons were concerned, the break just wasn't happening quickly enough. Chrissie, Nevaeh, and Mary Meyers were very impatient with me. They had wanted to get away from The Cult a long time ago.
So, it was there in my dorm room that I got a call from The Chief. I had considered screening the call because I wasn't sure who was calling me but decided at the last minute to take the call.
"Hello there Ashlee Smashlee," The Chief said brightly. "I'm glad that I finally got ahold of you. I've been getting your voice mail a lot lately."
"And, your point is?" I asked sarcastically. I was in no mood to be given the third degree from The Chief or a guilt trip either for that matter. I was beyond feeling perky. All my muscles were tense and relaxation just seemed utterly impossible.
"My point is that I have missed you and have wondered why you have had your phone off so much. I've tried coming to your house but your roommates always say that you're not home. Are you always at Antichris' house?"
"I'm there a lot," I admitted.
"He's the only one who truly makes me happy. He is the first person ever to walk into my life who doesn't make me feel bad about the things I enjoy and about myself."
"Be very careful Ashlee Smashlee," The Chief cautioned in a grave voice.
"He is a very dangerous man. He is a tool of Satan. Remember that talk we had about that? Right now, he wants you to think that he's all whipped cream and honey but it's only a matter of time before his true colors will come out. Satan will use him for as long as he needs to in order to get what he wants. But the second Satan succeeds in getting what he wants out of you and Antichris, which is ultimately for both of you to be destroyed by Satan, he will turn on both of you and Antichris's true colors and motives will come out. Right now, Satan is using kindness to lure him to his dark, cold, evil pit in hell. Once he's succeeded, there will be no more niceness, no more sweetness. We really need to pray about it some more it seems. Let's get together and pray, shall we?"
"Actually, I'm not really feeling that well. I've been suffering from severe anxiety for the past two days now and it's really taking a toll on me. I'll call you when it finally passes. I'm thinking I need to see a doctor and get some meds for it if it doesn't let up. I've never had it this bad."
"I know just the thing that will help!" The Chief exclaimed in delight.
"We are about to head out in about a half hour and go to a restaurant at the mall. It's one of our lovely sisters in christ's birthday today and Piggy and I are going to ride down to the restaurant together and celebrate it with her. Some of the others are going to meet up with us separately in their own cars. Why don't you come with us? Maybe once you see cheery people all around celebrating and singing happy birthday you'll feel better."
I asked what restaurant they were going to. When he told me, I immediately thought of their delicious chili. Maybe some good, wholesome food will help ease my nerves, I thought, and so then agreed to meet The Chief at my dorm in twenty or so minutes.
The restaurant was crowded and loud. Not exactly a relaxing atmosphere for someone having an anxiety attack. But I was hungry because I hadn't eaten in Satan knew how long and the food really did smell pretty appetizing. Not many of The Cult members were there yet. In fact, we'd even beaten the Birthday Girl there.
A few minutes later, more members of The Cult started showing up and eventually, Birthday Girl arrived, too. She said hi to all of us and thanked us for coming. I listened to her and thought to myself I only came for the food woman! I couldn't care less about your stupid birthday. I probably would have spoken my thoughts out loud if I hadn't felt so lousy but, because of my condition, I didn't really have the energy to be too mean to The Cult members and leaders today. I wasn't even so sure that Birthday Girl had even wanted to come and celebrate with all of us in the first place. Often times, The Chief and Piggy guilted people into going places and doing things that they didn't really want to do but ended up doing it out of pure guilt or politeness or lack of excuses of why they couldn't show up. Excuses were something that ran out quickly among all of us less hard core members of The Cult because we had to use so many excuses to get out of as many events as possible without giving away the fact that we didn't really want to be there in the first place. I wondered idly to myself just how long it would take for us to completely run out of excuses and, once that happened, what we would do then to survive. I also wondered if The Cult leaders already knew that our excuses of why we couldn't go to an event were, in fact, excuses or if they actually believed them all and didn't realize that we were fooling them. I had a hunch that The Chief believed a lot of the excuses, maybe even all of them, because he was as stupid as an inbred dog. Piggy, on the other hand, I wasn't so sure about. She had way more brains than The Chief and she didn't seem like the type to be easily fooled. With Piggy, I thought that not many of us were fooling her with our lame excuses, which were getting thinner and lamer every day because we were all so strapped so thin for them.
I didn't really know the Birthday Girl at all. I'd heard her name called out before, maybe even had said hi to her a few times, but that was the extent of our communication. So I was quite surprised when she eventually came up to me and sat down next to me after she'd said hello to all who had shown up for her special party. By this time, my chili had arrived and I found, to my great disappointment, that the chili tasted way too spicy for my taste buds. Usually, the chili wasn't spicy at that restaurant at all. In fact, Antichris often complained that it was too bland. He thought everything at that restaurant was too bland. So I was surprised to find myself having to take very small bites of the chili because it tasted way too hot and spicy for my tongue and throat.
"Hi," Birthday Girl said as she sat down next to me.
"Hi," I said shyly. I wasn't really in a very talkative mood. The noise of the restaurant was really getting to me by that time and all I wanted to do was just go home and hide under my covers and wait for the hellish anxiety to pass. It had gotten so bad that even swallowing felt strange. My throat felt tight and so did my chest. Everything just felt so out of whack and reality seemed so dissolutioned that for a moment, I wasn't really even sure that Birthday Girl had really sat down next to me to chat. After all, there were so many other people there that she knew a hell of a lot more than she knew me and she probably had way more to talk about with them than me, who was feeling very antisocial and sullen.
"I've seen you around with an older guy," she said.
"I even saw you downtown yelling Hail Satan a few times. Are you really into Satan then or what?"
I listened intently to the buzz of other conversations around me to make sure that Piggy and The Chief weren't listening. When I heard their voices engaging in conversation with other people, I said quietly, "Well, I'm just discovering Satanism actually. I don't really know if I'm a Satanist yet but I do think it's pretty cool. When my boyfriend and I first started talking about creating a Satanic church because there aren't enough of them around, it made me really horny. That's when I started realizing that I actually am curious about it. Satanism appeals to me."
"Yeah, it seems like you are having a blast when you are downtown yelling Hail Satan," Birthday Girl said. She didn't sound accusatory or mean so I could tell that she was interested in it, too.
"I guess what made me really curious about Satanism was this documentary I watched with Antichris a while ago. It's called Satanas and it was soooooo cool! In the beginning of it, there's this really creepy organ playing during this Satanic service that Anton LaVey is giving and it just gave me goosebumps to hear that creepy organ playing in the background. Goosebumps that, at first scared me, but then, after listening to it a little longer, I started liking the sound more and more. I began to wish I was at that Satanic sermon. Then Anton Lavey started saying 'Hail Satan', and then everybody who was there listening to him preach repeated 'Hail Satan', in unison. It made me jealous that I wasn't there and it also inspired me to start yelling Hail Satan to people."
"I've never seen it," Birthday Girl said, "Where can you find that documentary?"
"It's right there on YouTube. The whole documentary is there. You have to keep going to different videos for all the different parts because it's so long but, really, it's amazing. It's long but it really grabbed and held my attention. After it was over, my boyfriend and I had Satanic sex because it turned me on so much. Antichris told me that he thought that Satanism was just right for me because of the way it turned me on. You should really watch it sometime."
"I think I will," she said and we both giggled.
"I'm so glad I watched it," I told her, "When I was younger, I'd heard high school students or maybe even junior high school students talking about Satanism but I was too superstitious to look it up online or read any books about it. I'd heard all kinds of scary stories about how people do human and animal sacrifices to offer down to Satan and I was too freaked out to venture into that category. Besides, I was worried that god would punish me for looking into it. But Satanism is not creepy at all. Just that organ in the beginning was. Satanists don't offer down human sacrifices at all. Some Satanists offer animal sacrifices to Satan but, then again, they do that in the Christian bible for jesus so it's really not that creepy when you really think about it. You really should give it a look."
"As soon as I can," she whispered in my ear.
"So tell me, did you really want to come here and have this birthday party?" I asked.
"Not really. I wanted to go drinking with my other friends but Piggy insisted that I celebrate with all my brothers and sisters in Christ. Now, tell me, how freaking lame is that?"
"Super lame," I agreed sympathetically.
Birthday Girl pointed to the bar that was on the other side of the restaurant and said longingly, "I'd really like to go in there and have me a margarita."
"Well, it is your birthday after all," I reminded her. "Maybe it's time to make a stand and show The Cult leaders and all the hard core know it all members that they don't own you, that they don't control you. That's another reason why I'm starting to explore Satanism. I really like how free I feel when I'm yelling Hail Satan to people or when I'm just doing what I want to do instead of what other people want me to do. I've also noticed that Satan is a hell of a lot more fun than jesus and that he doesn't give people huge guilt trips like jesus does when you are happy and doing things you enjoy. Satan, unlike jesus, wants people to be happy in life. Jesus just wants people to be miserable and to keep singing stupid, degrading songs about how we are worthless and that we should have died because of how sinful we are."
"I know, right?" she said, "I hate those stupid songs that we have to sing about how we should be grateful to jesus for dying for us so that we can be saved. It's like, hey jesus dude, we didn't even fucking ask you to die for us at all. It was your decision to do it, not ours. We didn't even know who the fuck you were when we were first born. So don't go around making us feel guilty just because you felt like being a fucking martyr and dying for our sins. That was your own choice and your fault in deciding to do it, not ours."
"Yeah, I know!" I exclaimed, "And supposedly jesus died so that we could get into heaven after we die. But, you know what, getting into heaven is like soooooooooooooooooooo impossible. Jesus is the most jealous, manipulative god I know of. He wants us to live our lives and be all miserable just to glorify him all the time. We're supposed to put god first even before ourselves. That's just fucked up. What I'm really beginning to appreciate about Satan is that he wants us to put ourselves first, not him or jesus or anybody else. He wants us to be selfish and he wants us to live our lives as happily and as sinfully as we possibly can. As far as he believes, we only have one life to live so why not enjoy it to the fullest?"
"That is so awesome," Birthday Girl said, her voice brimming with excitement.
"Yeah, and you want to hear something even MORE awesome?" I asked her, feeling pretty damn thrilled myself.
"What is that?"
"Do you know that Satan wants us to believe that our birthdays are the best holidays in the world? Even better than Christmas and Thanksgiving. Satan wants us to celebrate our birthdays even more sinfully and selfishly than all the other holidays. Satan thinks that we are all special and that we deserve to treat ourselves special and to spoil ourselves rotten."
"So, I guess what you're saying is that Satanism is about worshipping yourself more than any god?"
"Yeah, I guess so," I answered.
"A lot of people think that way and I'm starting to learn how to also. But I really enjoy worshipping the actual Devil because I like to disgust people and hear the shock and awe and disapproval once I tell people that I worship Satan."
"You're telling people you worship Satan?!!!!" Birthday Girl asked, incredulously.
"Not everybody. Just some people. I haven't gotten around to telling all of them yet." I gestured to The Cult sitting all around us.
"Well, maybe you should," Birthday Girl said.
"Maybe, just maybe, I will girlfriend," I told her.
We laughed and then fell silent as The Chief said to me, "Hey Ashlee Smashlee, why aren't you eating your chili? You still have like half a bowl left. I thought you were hungry."
"It's too spicy."
"Oh, it is so not spicy," he protested.
The second he spoke to me, my muscles got all tense again. I hadn't realized that, during my meaningful conversation with Birthday Girl my anxiety had actually subsided somewhat. It hadn't totally gone away but it sure as hell had diminished dramatically. All because I was witnessing about Satan, I thought to myself as I took another small bite of chili.
Birthday Girl began talking with other people but I was sure that she would check out the documentary about Satan like she said she would. I was also sure that she still had Satan in the back of her mind after our conversation and that made me smile. She seemed so intrigued by it. I wondered if she had gotten as horny as I had gotten when I told her about the joy of Satan like I had gotten when Antichris and I began exploring Satanism and what it's really about.
Piggy came up to me then and said, "Hey Ashlee, are you coming to bible study tonight? It's really going to be an interesting night."
I thought that she was trying to lure me in because I hadn't gone to one for a while so I didn't really take it to heart. I just said sarcastically, "Oh really, what's so interesting about it?"
"Well, I have a new chinchilla now; I got it as a pet. You know, just a little creature to keep me company when I'm around the house. I'm naming it Creature. I'm bringing Creature to bible study tonight to say hello to everyone. Someone else is bringing their kitten to the bible study. We're going to introduce the kitten and the chinchilla and see what they do and how they react to one another. It should really be a hoot."
I thought that sounded vaguely amusing but more stupid than amusing. I said, "I really don't think so Piggy, I'm really not feeling well tonight."
To prove this, I pointed to my barely eaten chili. "I normally eat a whole bowl of this stuff and tonight I just can't eat hardly any of it. I need to go home and rest. Maybe next week I'll come and meet Creature."
I really didn't want to go to next week's bible study but I was trying to get Piggy off my back. I couldn't bring myself to say no to them yet, as much as I desperately wanted to. I did want to meet Creature, though, for I'd never even heard of a chinchilla let alone gotten to meet one.
"Maybe going to bible study will make you feel better," she persisted.
"Highly unlikely," I said drily. She finally left me alone, seeing that I was not going to budge on my decision tonight. Any other night she probably would have gotten me to go but I really wasn't making up an excuse tonight and I think she could see that for herself.
A short time later Birthday Girl appeared next to me again. She had her phone in her hand and she was giggling.
"I watched the beginning of the documentary," she whispered gleefully.
"You're right, that organ IS creepier than hell! It sounds like the very Devil himself is playing it. I wanted to watch more but someone wanted to talk to me so I had to quickly exit out of that screen or have to deal with being touched all over by them and prayed for."
When The Cult thinks that a member is starting to slip off the path of jesus, they often go to that member, put their hands on them, and pray over them for hours at a time, whether the person wants to be touched and prayed for or not. I have had had that done before and it sucked so I knew what Birthday Girl meant.
"That's ok, just try and watch it later. Anton LaVey even keeps a pet lion in it. That part is actually kind of sad but it's cool that he had a pet lion, too."
"I'll watch it as soon as I get away from all these freaks," Birthday Girl hissed in my ear in a determined voice.
"Even if I have to watch it in the bathroom or something. I'm totally hooked now, thanks to you."
"Hail Satan!" I whispered in her ear and we both burst out laughing again.
I couldn't believe that I hadn't gotten to know her sooner. She really was beyond cool. I felt better knowing that she didn't want to be at that stupid party either and that I wasn't the only one who was having trouble standing up to The Cult. Maybe we can work together and get stronger, I thought to myself. Maybe we can be allies and eventually get away from these freaks and start our own Satanic church. But, church or no church, even if we can just get away from them I'll be satisfied.
The Chief paid for my meal, probably because he felt somewhat remorseful for guilting me into going. Once the party was over, Piggy, The Chief, and I headed outside and straight to The Chief's car.
"Have you changed your mind about going to bible study?" Piggy asked.
"No Piggy, I haven't," I said, "I really need to rest. Actually, I might need to go to the hospital. I'm having trouble swallowing and my chest is all tight. It hurts to breathe sometimes. I think going to the hospital might be where I'm headed tonight. Like I said, I might come to bible study next week, ok?"
"Yeah, whatever," she mumbled irritably. This was the first time I'd really said no to Piggy. If I'd been feeling not so shitty I would have relished in that fact but all I could think about was trying to keep my breathing even and not puking on the way home. Which was where I thought we were going since I'd asked them to take me home. But apparently they had other plans in store for me.
We drove in silence for about a minute before The Chief finally spoke. He said, "Dear sister Ashlee, I'm so sorry that you've been struggling with anxiety so much. There are a lot of sisters and brothers who can relate to what you are going through. Tell me, do you think that your relationship with Antichris has anything to do with your panic attacks?"
Before I could answer, Piggy said, "It sure seems that way to me. You didn't used to have them so bad before he came into your life. I mean, before Satan brought him, uninvited and unwanted, into your life."
"He was not uninvited and Satan didn't bring him into my life," I said. Then, a minute later, I thought to myself, Well, maybe Satan did bring him into my life. If that's the case then I am eternally grateful to Satan for that.
"No, Antichris has nothing to do with my anxiety," I said. I thought, But all of you sure do.
"Well, why do you think it's gotten so much worse than it used to be?" The Chief asked me gently. I don't know if he was speaking gently to try and soothe me or to make me mad. Making me mad was what it really did. Listening to him speaking with that maddening calm made me want to lean over and slap him in the face. Perhaps if Piggy wasn't there to witness it I would have done just that. Maybe I would have felt better if I had. Who knows.
"I think it's gotten worse because I'm under a lot of pressure," I said. I didn't expand on who was giving me the pressure because I didn't know how to tell Piggy and The Chief that their cult was what was making me panic. I really was in no mood for a conflict. I have never been good with conflicts and confrontations and that day seemed like an even worse time for a conflict or a confrontation.
"You want to know what I think?" The Chief asked.
No, not really, I thought silently. But I was grateful that he hadn't asked me what was pressuring me because I didn't really know how I would answer that question. So I said "Sure" because I was glad that he wasn't going to start bombarding me with confrontational questions.
"What I think, miss Ashlee Smashlee, is that Satan is what's causing these panic attacks. I truly think that, right now, god and Satan are having a huge battle for your soul. Satan desperately wants to have it because his main goal is to destroy as many people as he possibly can before god sends him to hell where he belongs. God, on the other hand, wants to save your soul. He wants to keep your soul so that he can continue to protect you and keep you pure and fresh like the true you. Now it's up to you to decide just who your soul belongs to. I know that you will do the right thing Ashlee. Let's pray."
No pressure there Chief, I thought, thinking back to when he said that he knew I would do the right thing. It was little comments like that that really set me off.
The Chief began praying and so did Piggy. I didn't really listen to their prayers because I had no desire to. I was feeling incredibly lightheaded and nauseous. What I wanted more than anything was for this terrible feeling to go away.
The woods began to surround The Chief's car and I was sure that we were close to home. He and Piggy continued begging god to defeat Satan in the battle for my soul while I leaned my head against the cool window and counted seconds to pass the time. The Chief's car was stiflingly hot but when I tried to open the window, it didn't work.
Suddenly, I heard the tires of the car begin to grind against gravel. Immediately, I was alarmed. This was not the way to my house, of that I was certain. The Chief drove a little while farther, and then he pulled off to the shoulder of the road and put the car into neutral so he could concentrate on praying and not have his concentration marred by the difficult task of driving in the dark.
"Where are we going?!!!!" I demanded.
"I want to go home. I've told you that. Take me home! NOW!"
"We will go home in a little bit," The Chief said in that maddeningly calm voice.
"First I need to pray more for your soul. You are in very dire circumstances right now Ashlee. Prayer is crucial. It's the only thing that is going to save you from Satan. God is way more powerful than the Devil but we need to call on him for help so he will listen and answer our prayers."
"No shit I'm in dire circumstances!" I yelled.
"I am having a bloody panic attack and I want to go home. I'm about to puke all over your car and it's way too hot in here. Drive me home right now."
"I will but first I need to finish praying," The Chief said.
Eventually, The Chief started the car again. We drove on and on. I tried to open the door even though the car was moving. I knew that was a very stupid and dangerous thing to do but I was starting to get really terrified. I had no clue where we were going and why they were taking me away from home. But the door wouldn't open. When I asked why, Piggy responded irritably, "Because we put the child locks on the door. Now stop interrupting the prayer or we'll just keep you in here longer."
It seemed like hours that I was trapped in that car. When I started really getting sick and burping as food threatened to come up, The Chief decided that he wanted to spare his leather seats from being vomited on and so he took me home. As we were driving home, The Chief said, "Ashlee, I'd really like to go to the hospital with you. Piggy and I want to take you there."
"You have bible study to go to," I said in desperation, "You can't leave everyone else behind. What about that chinchilla adventure you were going to have?"
"We can do that another time," The Chief said.
"Someone else can take over leading bible study tonight. We have plenty of capable students who can lead the group quite well. If we take you to the hospital, we can pray for you and help you recover faster. Besides, who's going to take you to the hospital if you don't? You aren't seriously thinking of having HIM take you, are you?"
By "HIM", he meant Antichris.
"That's exactly who I'm going to have take me there. Now let me out of the damn car right now."
At last they let me out. The fresh, damp air felt so refreshing on my face as I climbed out of the car. It felt like heaven actually. Or, like my very own personal wonderful hell in Satan's way of thinking of it.
"We love you Ashlee Smashlee," Chief and Piggy said in unison.
"Call us while you are there or when you get back. We'll pray for you tonight in bible study and when we get home. We'll pray for you in tomorrow's prayer meeting, too. Get well soon, ok?"
I didn't answer them. I just went straight into my dorm room so I could call Antichris.
I was so relieved that he was willing to go to the hospital with me. I did NOT want The Cult leaders going to the hospital with me. They would have made the situation so much worse by praying around the clock for me. While we waited for me to be seen in the ER, Antichris and I laughed at all of the crosses in the hospital and made fun of them. It was so great not having anybody pray for me or touch me when I didn't want to be touched. Antichris knew just what I needed from him and he was always there for me.
Eventually, eight hours later, I was allowed to go home with a prescription for lorazepam. The hospital workers were at first only going to give me a list of breathing exercises in printed material that they knew I couldn't read but I insisted that I needed medication. I told them the breathing exercises were worthless and that I wasn't leaving until I got real meds that would work for me. So they finally relented and sent me away with my prescription.
The lorazepam worked wonders and, for the first time in weeks, I actually slept quite peacefully. The next day, The Chief called to check up on me. I was short with him because I was very angry at what he and Piggy had done. To try and make the conversation lighter and to avoid talking about how he'd knowingly trapped me in his car without consent, he told me that the kitten and the chinchilla had indeed met each other the previous night. When I didn't ask what had happened because I couldn't have cared less, he said, "It was wild Ashlee Smashlee, really and truly wild. The chinchilla ended up backing the kitten up in a corner in the room and then began humping it. It was hilarious."
"That's interesting," I said frostily. "Because that's what you and Piggy did to me yesterday, only minus the humping. You had me cornered and then you trapped me. That was not ok."
"I'm sorry that you felt we did that to you," The Chief said. He never did apologize for having kidnapped me, only saying he was sorry that I perceived it as such. Obviously Piggy and him had planned out what they would say if I ever confronted them about it and their plan was that they were going to make it look like I didn't really know what happened, that I perceived it all wrong. Once The Chief even said to me a week or so later after all that went down, "Ashlee, you were very anxious and hypervigilant. You would have felt trapped if we were walking outside with you and were holding your hand. Everything would have felt suffocating to you. Your perception of reality was really sunk due to your state of mind."
But I know in my heart that my perception of reality was not off when that happened. I know that they trapped me in the car because they thought they would get away with it and that I wouldn't ever tell a soul about it. But, just look at how terribly wrong they truly were as I set before you all a true story of kidnapping and abuse.
Friday, November 8, 2013
It has only been a fairly short time since I have finally managed to escape The Cult. I mean, I did start gradually distancing myself from them only a few months after meeting the people involved in it but I hadn't completely managed to get away from it until about a year and a half ago.
When I finally knew I was ready to cut ties with the whole lot of them, I sent out a letter to the leaders of The Cult, as well as to the school's student activities center, stating that I didn't want any contact with any of the people involved in The Cult. I wrote the letter because the members and leaders of The Cult were still contacting me, even though I clearly didn't want contact from them and they knew it. I sent the letter shortly after I had gotten the call from Failure, which is available for everyone to read in a different story. For a while, everything was silent and I was finally starting to believe that I had finally gotten completely free of them and their mind control and brainwashing. But, on this very night, I found out that I was dead wrong. The Cult was still dead set on stalking me and trying to mess with my life. Here's where Matt the Rat comes in.
Matt the Rat is a very annoying, meddlesome member of The Cult. Matt the Rat has a disease that I won't say the name of because I don't want to be sued by The Cult but I'll give you a good clue. He has what some people like to refer to as Immanent Death Syndrome. He's had it all his life but he's still, unfortunately, alive and seemingly pretty healthy, physically anyway. Mentally healthy, not so much. I've been praying and praying to my Dark, Unholy Lord Satan that he would die soon but Satan hasn't yet answered my prayers. I know that there is a good reason for this, though. Satan always has a reason for not answering a prayer right away. I guess Satan just needs him to stay alive just a little while longer for his Devilish enjoyment. I'll find out soon enough what my wise, Dark Lord's reason was. For now, I just have faith in Satan and faith is all I need to get me through life.
I've always called this jesus freak Matt the Rat because he is a huge snitch! He tattles constantly to the leaders of The Cult because he is a big baby. He thinks that, because he is dying, everyone should be sympathetic to him and give him what he wants all the time. I used to be sympathetic towards him. Now, not so much because he is a creepy stalker, just like the rest of them.
Matt the Rat would tattle to people like Piggy and The Chief and Thief on me for small, petty things. On several occasions, while I was at bible study or another one of their stupid events, I would say Smm Smm and let my other demons talk through me in their own voices. As soon as Matt the Rat heard me, he'd yell "Hey Chief! Ashlee Smashlee's saying Smm Smm again in creepy voices. She even whispers it like she's possessed or something. It sounds like she has demons inside of her and they are using her voice to communicate to us."
He'd also say "Hey Piggy, Ashlee's talking in high pitched, creepy voices again and it's distracting me. I'm trying to have an intelligent conversation with my brothers and sisters in Christ about god and she's distracting me with her creepy voices. Make her stop."
The Chief and Piggy and Thief would reprimand me but there just wasn't a whole hell of a lot they could do. I can't ever stop saying Smm Smm and, as for my demons, they deserve to have a say in what's going on, too. They were simply verbalizing their boredom with the bible study and since I wasn't brave enough at the time to say how bored to tears I was in my own voice, they did it for me using their own voices and getting the message out from my lips. Not long after I met Matt the Rat, I started actually calling him that by name. Whenever I'd see him, I'd say, "Oh hi there Matt the Rat. How are you? Who else have you been tattling on lately? Do you tattle to your mommy and daddy about everyone and everything that upsets you, too?"
"Don't call me Matt the Rat!" he yelled.
"But, that seems like such a perfect name for you. Why don't you like it?"
"Because it sounds mean. Call me Matt the Hat or something else but not the Rat."
Of course, being the rebel that Satan blessed me to be, I didn't obey his wishes. Continually, Matt the Rat would complain to The Cult leaders as well as any member of The Cult he could get to listen to him. I got all kinds of scoldings from numerous people in The Cult. They would say things like "Ashlee, don't be so hard on him. You know how sick he is. He doesn't have much time on this earth. We have to cherish and enjoy every precious moment we have with him. Don't you agree that's what jesus wants us to do? Wouldn't you agree that that is what jesus would do if he was alive right now on Earth?"
"No, I don't agree," I answered.
"He's nothing but a huge snitch and he deserves to be called on it. Besides, here's something for your narrow mind to consider. I, too, have an ailment. It isn't life threatening but it is something. Doesn't blindness count as an ailment, an imperfection in one of god's sheep? Don't I deserve a little cherishing and understanding? Or is it only reserved for people on death row?"
I can't really recall what sort of responses I received when I finally confronted them about this and how I felt. I do remember, though, that they were still against me and they were always advocating for Matt the Rat. As far as they could see, Matt the Rat could do no wrong in their eyes or in god's eyes. They saw him as a very admirable, wise man for having chosen to follow the lord on his dying days instead of partying and having real fun like most other dying people do once they know they don't have much more life to enjoy. Eventually, I started distancing myself from Matt the Rat, which wasn't too difficult because he stopped attending so many of their meetings. At first I thought that it was because he finally realized that he should be actually enjoying his life instead of worshipping a god that may or may not even exist. My demons had a different opinion. They thought that Matt the Rat began to distance himself from The Cult because he was afraid of me and of my demons that spoke in Devilish voices every chance they got. They thought that Matt the Rat got the heeby jeebies whenever he heard their voices or whenever he heard me say, "Smm Smm" in a creepy whisper that only I could know the true meaning of the word Smm Smm. Matt the Rat especially got the heeby jeebies when my demons would address him directly by saying cheerfully "Hi there Matt the Rat?
Who are you going to snitch on today?" Then Mary Meyers would start bellowing with her high pitched laughter until he would leave the room and get as far away from me and my demons as possible. For a long time, I consulted with my demons and asked them about whether I should start calling him The Snitch instead of Matt the Rat but they said that they liked for him to be called Matt the Rat instead of The Snitch because rat rhymes with his name, which is why it bothered him so much that my demons and I called him that.
Matt the Rat wasn't just a tattle tale, he was also a creep. Whenever he would say hi to me, he'd always expect a hug from me. But that was just the beginning of his creepy ways.
Late one night, the Antichris and I both decided that we wanted to take a walk around campus to enjoy the woodsy smell of the place. It was winter and the rain made all the greenery smell so fresh and pure. The cedar trees were my favorite thing to smell. My demons liked cedar smells, too, and they were eager to go for a walk. So we set out and walked and talked and enjoyed each others company, as those who are madly in love often do. Nobody was out at that time of night and we felt safe and comfortable. We stopped to kiss a couple of times during the walk to show how much we loved each other and just how grateful to Satan we were that he brought us together so unexpectedly.
We were walking on a road with lots of trees, when, all of a sudden, a man driving a pickup truck came closer and closer to us, slowing down all the while as it drew nearer to us. The man rolled down his window then and whistled at us in, what I thought was his way of trying to be sexy. I didn't know who the man was until he said "Ashlee Smashlee!"
"Who are you?" I asked, alarmed.
"It's Matt. What are you two up to?"
"Just taking a walk."
I can't remember if we said anything more than that but, once he drove away, Antichris said "Whoa, that was creepy. That freaked me out a little."
"Yeah, that was creepy," I agreed. But since I was still a little sympathetic towards Matt the Rat for having immanent death syndrome, I didn't plan on messing with him too much when I saw him again. Even Antichris, at that time, was sympathetic to him, saying "Oh well, he's dying soon anyway. Hopefully he'll die sooner rather than later."
I couldn't have agreed more. I didn't hate Matt the Rat but I certainly didn't consider him a friend and I wondered why in the world he had taken the time to slow down right in the middle of the road to roll down his window and whistle creepily at us and then have a conversation with us like we had known him for a lifetime. I always knew all along that he was an odd character, creepy even, but I didn't realize just how creepy Matt the Rat could get. Not only did he have a sick body but, apparently, he had a sick mind, too. No wonder The Cult appreciated him so much. He was a perfect candidate to have if they were trying to recruit stalkers to gather new followers and to keep the ones who were trying to leave from escaping.
Whenever Matt the Rat didn't like something, whether it was a book or a piece of art or a song on the radio, he would call it stupid. Everything that Matt the Rat didn't find comfort in was stupid in his mind. One night, I decided that it was time to show The Cult that I didn't want contact with them anymore since they weren't getting the more subtle messages that I was giving them. So I sent all the leaders and the members of The Cult the Smm Smm story, which is also available for anybody to read right now. I knew that many members of The Cult would be highly disturbed by the Smm Smm story and I thought that, maybe, just maybe, they would see that story and they would finally realize that I was beyond being saved. I was hoping that they would finally conclude that I had chosen to take the Left Hand Path and that their best option for themselves and their group was to leave me alone to fend for myself. If I chose to come back later and repent, they could accept me and warmly welcome me back but only if I chose to come back. Boy was I wrong. More stories will come out about them later and then it will be easier to see just what I'm talking about. For now, I'm focusing on Matt the Rat.
All of the members and leaders ignored the Smm Smm story except for Matt the Rat. They neither emailed or called me about the story. My demons and I figured that they were trying to pretend like I hadn't sent that story. They were sweeping it under the rug. Whenever anything bad happened in The Cult, the leaders always tried to keep it secret from the members because they didn't want to admit that they were losing followers or that they had any flaws. They were trying to keep their reputation as flawless as possible and that meant that they had to keep bad things from leaking out for all to find out about.
But Matt the Rat just couldn't resist writing in response to my story. He emailed me a day or so later. His email said,
I don't know what has gotten into you and why you are trying to bring negative attention to yourself. I read your story yesterday but I didn't write right away because I needed time to pray about what I should reply back to you. God convicted my heart by telling me that I should be as honest with you as possible so I'm going to. Your story is really stupid. Why would you write such a stupid story? I didn't like it one bit and I'm sure nobody else did. Why did you share it with the whole group? Your heart is really afflicted right now and it's because of Satan. I'm going to pray for you and ask god to discourage you from writing anymore stupid, purposeless stories like the one you sent to all of us again.
Your brother in Christ,
Ps: Blessings on you Sister Ashlee.
In response to Matt the Rat's email, I told him that I thought that he was stupid and that I would pray to Satan for his soul since he was praying to jesus for mine. Another time, when I saw Matt the Rat, he told me he didn't want me praying to Satan for his soul. I replied, with the help of my demons "Well, I don't want you praying to jesus for me. As long as you pray to jesus for me, I'm going to pray to Satan for you."
A long time passed before I saw Matt the Rat again. I was hoping that Satan had answered my prayer and had finally caused him to die. But, no, he was still alive. One night, while I was walking around downtown yelling "HAIL SATAN!!!!!!!!!", to people, Matt the Rat appeared. I think he was coming out of some club or getting ready to go into one. When Matt the Rat spotted me, he, of course, came up to me.
"Hi Ashlee," he said, "What are you doing?"
"I'm Hail Sataning people," I responded fearlessly.
If they could praise jesus openly and fearlessly, I could do the same for Satan. I had finally realized it and had become more comfortable saying "HAIL SATAN!!!!!!!!!", to The Cult whenever I saw one of them.
"Hail Sataning people?" Matt the Rat asked, bewildered, "Why?"
"Because it's fun. I love saying hail Satan to people."
Matt the Rat was clearly disturbed by this but I didn't give him much time to argue or try to persuade me that jesus was better than Satan. I had several more streets that I hadn't walked on to hail Satan people and, anyway, Matt the Rat was the last person I wanted to talk to. I said, "See you later; I've got more Hail Sataning to do." Before Matt the Rat could say anything more, I was gone. Of course, he had made me hug him during that hello but I was still glad that I had disturbed him by saying hail Satan to random strangers and to him when he approached me.
Matt the Rat was also a professional stalker. I always knew that he was a part of the stalking party, which were a few chosen people that The Cult leaders picked to help them stalk students and force them to come to their events. Matt the Rat was there a lot of the time, knocking on people's dorms, trying to round people up for bible study and acting like the whole thing was normal, though it was obvious that they had not been given permission to go to random dorms and knock on their doors. But Matt the Rat had another stalking technique that he decided to share with me one day.
I was wanting to play a prank on The Chief but I knew that the Chief would recognize my phone number if I called him with my phone. I asked Matt the Rat if he knew of a good way to prank people that didn't involve using a telephone or whether he knew about a nearby pay phone that I could make the prank call on. Matt the Rat replied excitedly, "Oh Ashlee, you don't need a pay phone to do it, I've got a little trick to teach you. Whenever I need to call someone and hide the identity of my phone number, I just press star sixty-seven on my cell phone. When you press those buttons, it restricts the phone number so that the person you are calling only sees that a private number is calling but they can't tell who the number belongs to. Pretty brilliant, don't you think?"
Matt the Rat was really proud of himself for knowing that trick. I don't know where he learned it or who he learned it from but now I'm firmly convinced that he uses it to stalk students who have made it clear that they don't want contact with The Cult. Matt the Rat couldn't very well have gotten away with continuing to call students in a way that would identify his number. But, where there's a will, there's a way and he definitely had a will to stalk people and so he found a way to do it where the students couldn't trace his phone number. If a lawyer decided to subpoena the phone records of his phone plan, they could definitely prove that Matt the Rat was making harassing phone calls to people that clearly didn't want contact. But nobody thought of prosecuting The Cult or getting an anti-harassment order on them. So Matt the Rat and all of the rest of them continued to gleefully get away with stalking innocent, naive students who just wanted to study and live their lives and be left alone by jesus freaks.
Months went by and I neither saw nor heard from Matt the Rat. Other members of The Cult were still contacting me, though, even though I asked them not to, which is why I wrote the letter and sent it to a bunch of people, stating that I didn't want contact. Once I wrote the letter and sent it, I was sure that Matt the Rat wouldn't have the guts or the stupidity to approach me again. But, once again, I was wrong. Tonight proved that to me.
Antichris and I were enjoying dessert at a restaurant downtown when he said "Oh, some of The Cult people are here. They are sitting far away from us. At least, I think it's some of them."
My demons became very excited about that and made me take a mental note to casually say "Hail Satan" as I walked by on my way out. I wasn't going to acknowledge them directly, I was just going to casually say it like I was speaking to myself but I was going to say it loudly enough so they could hear it. Antichris payed and we got up to leave. All of a sudden, someone walking by said "Hi Ashlee."
"Who are you?" I asked, not recognizing the voice at first.
I was totally appalled that he was talking to me. I was sure that he had heard about the letter and wouldn't dare speak to me. But my demons didn't let me miss a beat or show that he had caught me off guard. I said "Hail Satan!"
I was planning on saying next that I didn't want him to speak to me but he kept walking towards the bar and I didn't want to follow him. He was trying to be all sneaky, proving to himself that he could say hi to me uninvited and get away with it. After receiving a nudge from Nevaeh, one of my demons, I said "Satan loves you!"
"I love you, too, Ashlee," Matt the Rat replied and then he disappeared before I could say anything else.
He was doing all of this intentionally. He thought that if he stayed one step ahead of me, I wouldn't be able to see where he was, therefore preventing me from following him and saying what was really on my mind. I was furious! Matt the Rat always acted so innocent but really, he's just a bully and a monster like the rest of those scoundrels. I can't wait until he dies! I swear my demons and I are going to have a HUGE PARTY! Maybe we'll even find his grave and dance on it. Chrissie, my other demon, no doubt will pee on it and Mary Meyers can laugh about him finally being dead and gone. Maybe she will even perform a show and host a celebration for her audience, too.
Antichris walked me home after that. He was considering going back to the restaurant after he dropped me off to tell Matt the Rat and the others that were with him not to contact either one of us but I told him that it was getting late and that he was going to miss his bus going home. As far as my demons and I could see it, The Cult wasn't worth missing a bus and having to walk all the way home over. Antichris agreed and he went home. He, too, was angry at Matt the Rat for what he did and for being so sneaky. My demons were all blaspheming against jesus and Smm Smm was blowing fire to vent out his frustration.
A short time passed and I decided I needed to throw out a really smelly foam cup that reeked of prenatal vitamins. I had foolishly tried to dissolve one in water because swallowing them is such a pain but, instead of dissolving, it just made crusty crumbs in the cut and it was making my whole garbage can and house smell like icky, make you want to barf vitamins. I also was thinking about trying to walk back to the same restaurant that Antichris and I had just left because, as we were leaving, I smelled someone's French toast and it made me desperately want some. Antichris would have stayed with me while I ate it but he said that he wouldn't have time to walk me home if I got French toast and I'd have to take a taxi since I hate walking home in the dark. I decided that I didn't need the French toast that badly and let him walk me home. But when I got home, the smell returned to me as well as the craving and I was thinking that I just might be able to find the restaurant without Antichris's help and satisfy my craving. After all, I had Nevaeh, Chrissie, and Mary Meyers and Smm Smm with me to help guide me there and they wanted French toast, too. I had just gotten up to get my coat on and to fish the reeking cup out of my trash can when all of my girl demons began shouting "No Mommy, don't go to the restaurant! It's not a good time! No Mommy, don't go!!!!!!"
They didn't give me a reason for such panic. I said to them "I thought you wanted French toast right along with me."
Seeing that I wasn't firmly convinced about their reason for staying behind, Mary Meyers reached for the mallet that I use to whack on the megaphone for Smm Smm during dire times. Normally I am the only one who is allowed to strike the megaphone with the mallet to get Smm Smm's attention but on emergency occasions when I forget about the mallet, Smm Smm doesn't punish his sisters for using it. However, his sisters had been feisty all that day and, sometimes, just to get Smm Smm riled up, they whack the mallet against the megaphone just to see him blow fire and growl and shoot hot chocolate from his ears. So when Mary Meyers hit the megaphone, Smm Smm turned on her with a vengeance, ready to burn her little pink dress to a crisp as punishment for giving him a false alarm. Just as he was about to engulf her and the dress in flames, Mary held up a pleading hand and he saw the desperation on her face. He held his fire and, he, too, told me not to go to get French toast right then. Just as a precaution since I was still standing up, Chrissie caused me to trip over an untucked part of my sheet and, as I was falling, she aimed my body so that it would fall softly on the bed and she pushed me down.
I knew this was serious now and I told them "I won't go to the restaurant right now, I promise. Mellow out you guys."
I asked them if I could at least throw away the cup before I puked up my ice cream cone that I'd eaten earlier that night and, after a serious discussion, my demons all agreed that it was safe for me to at least go outside and throw away the cup.
While I was outside throwing it away, I heard men's voices talking quietly a little ways from me. I stopped to listen to the voices.
"She lives around here, I just know it," a familiar voice that I thought belonged to Matt the Rat said. I told myself that I was imagining it, that I was still shaken up for having had to deal with him just minutes before.
Another familiar voice who I could not place a name with said "Yeah, I saw him lead her in that alley. Which house do you think she lives in?"
"I'm not entirely sure."
Another voice, this one, an unfamiliar one, said "Ok guys, this is creepy. Let's just forget this whole thing and get out of here."
"Get inside Mommy!" All of my girls cried and Nevaeh grabbed my hand and dragged me up the stairs back into my house.
"Stop rushing me!" I protested.
"Sshhhhhhh!" Smm Smm breathed in my ear.
Antichris called a short time later and I told him what I'd heard. He said that Matt the Rat and the people with him had followed us home. He hadn't noticed them following us but, as he pointed out, they were so good at stalking people that they knew how to be sneaky and cautious. I knew he was right but it still gave me the heeby jeebies even though I knew what horrible scoundrels and freaks they were. Every one of them are sick in the head. That's what Mary Meyers always tells me. I do believe she is quite right.
Suddenly, while I was still on the phone with Antichris, my doorbell rang. I told Antichris that it rang and asked him what I should do.
"Don't answer the door," he instructed. All my demons nodded in agreement so I listened.
The doorbell rang again and still I ignored it, knowing that they didn't really know which house inside the building was mine judging from their conversation. Months earlier, the Birthday Girl, who is a part of The Cult now, had come here and asked several people where I lived but nobody gave her that information, thank Satan. So I knew that they were just randomly ringing doorbells with high hopes that either I would answer and they could try to kidnap me again or that someone else in the building would answer the door and give them the information they were after.
I moved to my door and opened it just a crack. I knew The Cult couldn't see me at all. I listened. Sure enough, I could hear them ringing my next door neighbor's doorbell, but, fortunately, he was not home or he was asleep and didn't want to answer the door. So my hunch about them randomly ringing doorbells was right indeed. They went around ringing random doorbells for a while without saying anything. Then, all of a sudden, they all began calling out in a chorus, "Ashlee Smashlee, where are you? Ashlee, Ashlee, Ashleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" They were walking around ringing doorbells and yelling my name as loudly as they could. As if that would actually get me to answer the door.
Antichris told me to call 911 and tell them that a creepy cult was at my house stalking me and to send cops over there to arrest them, or at the very least, help me file a police report when I told him that they were also yelling my name, too. I hung up with him and was about to do just that when I heard frantic, angry footsteps descending to the first floor where the front door was. It was a man, who happened to be a cop himself, and he was not at happy at all to see those people at the door.
He wrenched the door open and shouted "What the hell are you guys doing here? Who are you? Hold up your hands and get on the ground! Now!"
By this time, I had slipped back into my house and shut the door. I didn't want to be in the middle of any violent confrontation, nor did I want The Cult stalkers to see just where I lived.
There was a lot of scuffling and then the conversation was moved away from the house.
I called Antichris back and told him that I hadn't called 911 because another cop was handling it. Antichris still thought that I should call 911, though, so that there would be a record of what had happened and that I had called to file a police report.
"I don't want the guy to just let them go and there be no record of a complaint call to the police."
I was just about to call 911 but my demons all instructed me not to do that quite yet. They thought it was best if I did go outside and tell the cop who I was and that the people who were trespassing were part of a creepy cult that was stalking me. So I did. As I approached the cop, I could hear Failure telling his side of the story. He said in his whiny, pathetic voice, "We are here for an intervention. We need to save her. She is being brainwashed by Satanists and we are here to save her." Once Failure had finished with his whacked out story, the cop said to all of them, "I'd like to see all of your IDs. I'd also like to search your car. Have any of you been drinking excessively tonight? Are any of you on drugs? What about psychological disabilities? Do any of you have a mental illness I need to know about?"
I could tell the cop thought they all sounded way beyond crazy and I sure thought so, too.
"No, they aren't," I told the cop after he'd finished searching the car and all the stuff cops do.
"They belong to a creepy cult and they are stalking me. They have been stalking me for months and they won't stop. I have written a letter asking them not to contact me, I have told them not to contact me, and still they keep doing it. I'm about to call 911 right now and file a police report. I want to get a restraining order on these people or else they are going to keep stalking me and disturbing the peace."
"Don't call 911," the cop said.
"You can call the non emergency police if you want to file that kind of a police report. 911 is for more dire emergencies and, since I'm already dealing with it now, there really is no need to disturb 911 about this."
I didn't want to be one of those people who call 911 if it wasn't a true, dire emergency so I went back inside and called the police. As I was heading inside, Matt the Rat said "I love you Ashlee." I didn't respond to him. I wanted to yell "Hail Satan!", but I knew that would make me look bad so I didn't. Silly me forgot to get the stupid case number for the police report after I filed it, though, and I haven't been able to get it out of the cops at all. They were anything but helpful while I was telling my story either. I could tell they didn't really give a damn. They had bigger, more serious cases to deal with apparently. But I did my best. Now all I can do is write about it and expose them for the creepy sons of bitches they truly are. I don't need any help from the cops, I've got my demons and my stories and that's what's going to destroy them more than anything. Which is what they deserve after what they have done and what they are still doing to people.
While I had been on the phone with the useless cops, other neighbors came out of their houses to see what was going on. When they found out, they told the cop that they had been seeing people just hanging out by the tables outside, just watching the place and it really freaked them out. Also, many of the neighbors said that their doorbells had been rung randomly at all hours of the day, even during the early morning hours. Since they weren't expecting anybody to come over that early, they didn't answer the door. They also didn't answer it because they were creeped out by the people hanging out by the tables for long periods of time, like they were scoping out the place.
The cop had no grounds to arrest the people from The Cult, who did, in fact, identify their real names when they were asked. There were no drugs found in the car or else I'm sure the cop would have arrested all of them. I could tell the cop was really annoyed with the trespassers and probably wished he could have arrested them just like I wished he could have but he really had no grounds to arrest them. When he came inside a while later, he exclaimed exasperatedly "JESUS CHRIST!" He yelled it loud enough so that I'm sure the whole house heard it. It made me laugh to hear him use jesus's name in vain and I'm sure Satan was happy about that, too. I was furious that the cop couldn't arrest them but, after calling the Antichris again for the millionth time in a half hour, I was immediately calmed because he always has a way of making me feel good. He told me that I didn't need to have them get arrested right now and that we didn't need the cops or any witnesses from my house to come forward. He said that just writing about it would be enough to expose them and finally force them to face the consequences for their inappropriate actions. He also said that he called his landlord and told him what happened and that the landlord seemed very sympathetic. The landlord asked Antichris to come to the office of the apartments as soon as he could to file a report. We are all, demons included, hoping that they get evicted for harassing their neighbors. Antichris and I believe that Matt the Rat, Failure, and the other people with them, including St. John's Wort, had acted so boldly and sneakily tonight because they have found out about the stories that I have started publishing and that they are panicking because they know that they are about to be exposed for the creeps that they truly are.
Meanwhile, my neighbors all around me have been acting very cautiously. They have been walking around the house all night when, usually, the house is dead quiet because people are asleep. They have also been double checking to make sure that the main door is securely locked and secure. I also overheard some people in the neighboring house talking about wanting to possibly move because they are really creeped out by those people. I won't be surprised if lots of vacancies in the big houses start happening soon. Pretty soon, in no time, all my witnesses will have moved away to spare themselves from more creepy adventures involving a creepy, stalker, obsessive cult.
Right now, all my demons and I are taking comfort in the knowledge that, despite their intentions, none of those people who followed me home got what they wanted. They weren't able to get me back to their cult and they weren't able to figure out where I really live. And, because of what they did tonight, I am even more determined to expose them and their group and stop this madness so that no other students has to be stalked and harassed by them. Right now, all my demons are eating ice cream cakes and they are having a huge party. Their horse is here, too, and they are all dancing around and lighting black Satanic candles on their ice creams to make them extra wicked and delicious.
The heeby jeebies didn't go away immediately after the incident. I found myself feeling more needy of the Antichris's attention and less comfortable being alone in my very own house. This is totally not like me, this being too afraid to be alone in my own house, because I've always thought of home as a safe haven, a place where I can rest and recuperate, and a good place to get my thoughts and feelings out on paper. Those weren't the only feelings I had, though.
I also felt violated and angry. I had worked so very hard to get away from The Cult so that they couldn't find me. And, although they still don't know exactly which house I live in, it was very unnerving to have them on my property, getting closer and closer to finding their beloved treasure, which is me. Even though I have made it clearly obvious that I don't want any further contact from any of them, they still remain infatuated with me. They are completely determined to get me back into their cult, no matter what kind of creepy things they have to do in order to get what they want.
The day after the incident at my house and the restaurant occurred; I went over to the Antichris's house to visit and to deliver letters to the student activities office on campus and to other places to show that I was being contacted by creepy people when it was clear that the contact from them was unwanted and disturbing to me. As the Antichris was gathering up all the letters that we would be mailing to various people and hand delivering to others, I went outside of his apartment to get some fresh air. I was feeling nauseous that day, both from pregnancy and from nerves caused by the night before. I have a bunch of antianxiety pills but I haven't needed to take them for a very long time and I was determined not to allow those creeps to make me feel bad enough to have to take them. Besides, the medication isn't good for the baby and I was not about to put my baby's health in jeopardy over The Cult. I knew that fresh air would be what I needed to soothe the nausea and my nerves.
As I was walking down the stairs, the door to Failure's apartment opened and a man walked out. I couldn't tell who it was for sure. It could have been either Failure, Matt the Rat, or their other roommate Shmoe but I couldn't be sure which one of them it was. All of my demons tell me that they think it was Failure and that was my first feeling. He came out of his house and just stood there, staring at me. I am not sure if he was about to leave and got disoriented when he saw me and was unsure about whether he should go back into his house or move around me and leave. Or, he might have just wanted to stare at me. Or, what I really think he wanted to do was stand there and flip me off, knowing very well that I wouldn't be able to see that he did that. And even though flipping someone off isn't considered a very christian thing to do, Failure has a very bad temper and he was probably beyond able to think about what jesus would have done if he was in Failure's shoes. So, he let out his anger and flipped me off. Perhaps. I'm not real sure.
I wasn't really sure what to do either. At first I thought that I should just go back upstairs and go find the Antichris to get away from The Cult house. But then all of my demons said "No Mommy, don't leave. Stand your ground; don't let him know that you're afraid. You did nothing wrong Mommy. They are the freaks, not you. Stand your ground and show him that you are tough and fearless. Show him that he can't scare you anymore. Show him that none of them can. That will make him sweat even more."
So I listened to them and I did stand there. It was very awkward because I wanted to tell whoever it was "Hail Satan!" But, since I'd just written a bunch of letters stating that I didn't want any contact from any of them, I knew it would be a bad idea to say HAIL SATAN to them. But I really, really wanted to do it and so did Chrissie.
Then the Antichris came out of his house. When the guy saw Antichris coming down the stairs he immediately went back into his apartment and closed the door until it was open only a crack.
"Oh Ashlee, I thought you were going to mess with them," Antichris said, relieved that I hadn't said HAIL SATAN to them after all.
"I really wanted to and so did Chrissie, but I didn't want you to get in trouble," I told him.
That incident creeped me out, too. After I'd taken more time to think about it longer, I wondered if Failure had intended to try to drag me into his apartment and trap me while I was standing there, alone and vulnerable. I wondered if that was his exact plan or if he just had a fantasy about doing that but he didn't know quite how to do it without getting in trouble. Then, of course, seeing the Antichris coming down the stairs definitely had ruined it for him, both his fantasy and or his plan since Failure is really afraid of the Antichris. Actually, all of them are.
I talked to the Antichris about my feelings after that incident and told him that I was worried about them trying to kidnap me again. They had done it once, so they could do it again if they put their minds to it. Antichris understood how I felt and we began working out a possible safety plan so that, if worse ever came to worse, I'd have an idea of what I should do.
Just having to talk about the possibility of getting kidnapped both scared me and angered me. With me, when I feel scared, it usually turns into fury really fast. And so that's how I mostly felt. Furious and wanting to wreak even more revenge on those bastards. I know that I've gotten a lot of revenge on them so far but I felt the urge for more, more, more, just like a heroin addict who just can't get enough heroin to satisfy his craving. I began to wonder if I was beginning to become addicted to revenge. It's possible, I guess, but I'd much rather be addicted to Satanic revenge than heroin. In my opinion, you get way more out of getting revenge on people than you do using heroin. The only bad thing about revenge is, sometimes you don't get to see the actual turnout of it. Like, if I ever managed to really get The Cult into trouble, I never really would be able to hear the reactions of the leaders or just what kinds of punishment The Cult was given for its wreckless, creepy, thoughtless actions.
I also felt a growing need for other people to come forward. I was sure that I wasn't the only one who they had stalked or freaked out or even kidnapped. I really wished that I could talk to someone else who had managed to escape The Cult and who had endured the same things I had so that we could support each other and work out a possible plan of revenge. All my life, I had let people do all sorts of things to me that just weren't ok and I never got to get revenge on them. So now, I am determined more than ever to get revenge on those who truly deserve it. And the leaders and members of The Cult who keep stalking me and my boyfriend definitely qualify for a good, healthy dose of REVENGE!