In A House Possessed, Pt 5

If you're new to my site, or this true story, you'll need to start at the beginning of this tale.  part one, part two, part three, part four. You'll be hooked!

Several days went by with no obvious signs that Mrs. Flores was still in her home. Oh the dog was continuing to bark continually at nothing in the kitchen and the doors would choose whether or not they would open, but nothing that I could look at objectively and say "this place is haunted!"

I found two parts of myself constantly at battle. The logical side was telling me that there was always a reasonable, natural answer to everything. The spiritual side knew that we don't fight against flesh and blood but against principalities, wicked spirits and rulers in high places. But I had never experienced a wicked spirit that I had known of, so I brushed it off as much as was possible.

Deep inside though I knew it was true. There was something else in my home and just because I couldn't see it didn't make it any less real. I could feel the presence. I could sense the evil. My animals knew it was there and my children knew it was there.

During the day I could deal with it, but at night when the kids were in bed and the house was dark and quiet I was petrified. I kept the lights on, the TV on and the phone by my side. I stayed on the couch with my feet off the floor for hours until my husband came home or until I fell asleep.

One evening as I was sitting on the couch writing a letter to a friend I glanced out of the window and could see the lights flicker as they do when the wind blows the leaves of a tree, which is what I thought it was. That was until I remembered that the only trees in front of the house were palm trees and perhaps 30-40 feet tall.

Then I thought of the next logical thing. The cat must be trying to get in the house. As soon as I calmed, the cat sauntered out of the kids' room. It wasn't the cat. I got up off of the couch and went to check on the kids.

When I got to their room I saw a shadowy figure in the window. It was outside looking in. I panicked. I grabbed the phone and called police. I was frantic. Every scary movie that I had seen was running through my mind. I was about to be killed with an axe and my kids sold on the adoption black market.
I was sure that the phone line was going to be cut. I backed out of the room and slid down the wall. I sat in the floor hysterically crying to the police woman on the other end of the line.

After what seemed like an eternity she told me that I needed to hang up the phone, that the officers were at my front door. I couldn't move, I was frozen with fear. Suddenly there was pounding at the door. The officers were yelling for me to open the door. I dropped the phone and tiptoed into the living room. Maybe the intruder had heard me and was pretending to be the police. I leaned around the corner just enough to be able to see what was on the porch, to see if it was the police.

I saw a flashlight shining through the screen door. Then the officer that was holding the light shone it on his partner. I could see the flashing lights of the patrol car in the street. It was the police. I rushed to the door to let them in. As I opened the door I realized that they were on the outside of the screen door. It was still locked. The figure had been on the inside of the screen, it couldn’t have locked it again on it's way out. I went onto the porch to let the officers into the house.

The taller of the two followed me into the house, the shorter stayed outside. They were both Mexican but had no accent. The officer that came into the house had me explain what had happened. He asked me if the person looked like a “wetback.” As I was trying to figure out what he had meant I saw the shorter officer cautiously walk up to the door.

I was explaining that I wasn't sure I knew what a wetback looked like when the shorter of the two asked me if the figure had shorter curly hair.

"Yes, yes it did" I answered. Then he wanted to know how tall the figure was.  I told him that it appeared to be short, about 5'2" and heavy. I noticed as I spoke he became more pale and backed out of the door and away from the house. The other officer and I followed him into the yard.

"Ma'am,” he said, "do you know what day this is?" I thought about it but wasn't sure what he was talking about. I shook my head no. "Have you heard of Tony Flores?" I nodded. "This is the third anniversary of the day he murdered his mother here at this house. I believe what you saw was Mrs. Flores returning to her home."