As a child, I always had an “imaginary friend” of sorts. His name was Benjamin and he was very friendly, often keeping me company while my parents were out for errands or work. He looked to be in his mid-40s and had always struck me as a “father”. The catch is, Mom and Dad were never able to see him, and just assumed that I was playing around and that Benjamin was a figment of my imagination.
As years passed and I grew older, Benjamin’s image seemed to…distort. His face seemed to change ever so slightly year after year. His nose would look broken, one of his eyes slightly higher than the other, his fingers would look increasingly gnarled. He did not look like the Benjamin I once knew.
It got to a point where I had to block him out. I ignored him, his presence and his voice. I constantly pestered my parents so much about Benjamin being a nuisance that we moved out when I was about 12.
Safe to say, Benjamin was never seen or heard from again, and I slowly forgot about my former imaginary friend.
Fast forward to the present, I’m now 18, and I am still living in the new house with my parents. I also now have a beautiful baby sister Margaret, who is 5 years old today. I was in the process of building my life, preparing to enter society as an adult. I took a job, was studying harder in school, and although I don’t have a girlfriend yet, I was quite content with my achievements so far.
Things started going downhill from there.
I returned home one day and I had a sense that something was wrong. There was an awful, unexplainable pressure and malignant presence that made the air in the house feel very heavy. It felt suffocating. Although it was around 3pm, the house looked eerie and dim, with the sunlight barely making it past the windows.
I didn’t think much of it. That was a mistake.
Everything I worked for started crumbling slowly. I got fired from my job for some unreasonable excuse, my friends started distancing themselves after hearing a “rumor” about me, and my sister was constantly falling ill. My health was also deteriorating, barely getting enough sleep and losing my appetite despite feeling hungry just minutes before. I was also losing my focus in class and my grades plummeted.
That’s when I saw him again.
His dark hair plastered to his forehead, his bony fingers, his imposing frame, that ear-to-ear grin that looked as if his lips should have been there to cover those teeth covered in dried blood, and those eyes. Those empty, soulless eyes that still somehow radiated anger.
He only started showing up in my peripheral vision. I’d notice him, then blink and look again, and he was gone. I took it as severe sleep deprivation and that I was hallucinating.
God, I thought to myself, I should really fix my sleep schedule.
Right before I was going to sleep one night, I saw him again, in the corner of my room. I tried to ignore him again but this time, he spoke.
“Why…did you leave..?” His raspy voice spoke from what was left of his vocal cords. “I gave you all my time and you…you abandoned me in that hellhole!”
It was true. The old house was unusually run down, and I overheard my parents talking about some jar of human remains found behind a fake wall in the attic. However, my parents were young and in need of a place to stay while they worked out their finances.
I couldn’t move. I watched as he floated over to me. My chest got heavier. I felt each breath become increasingly harder to take. I watched as he came closer and closer, his bony fingers reaching for my chest…
I did the only thing I could. I prayed.
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit…” I’ve never been particularly religious, but I found myself praying over and over again.
As he screamed and retreated back into the darkness, I felt control of my body return. I didn’t sleep a wink that night.
I told my parents everything that happened. We ended up calling a priest, who got the entire house cleansed. However, he said that it would only be temporary, and the only way to get rid of it is…
Please save me. Please picture Benjamin, a rotting corpse with bony fingers, a skeleton-like frame, with patches of decaying skin falling off his arms, neck, and face. Picture what little strands of hair he has left, clinging onto his peeling scalp. Picture his bottomless eyes, those dark spheres that are completely devoid of life, and most importantly that wide, wide grin that stretches from his cheeks down to his chin, with sharp teeth, no, fangs, that are caked with blood. Picture him staring at you out of the corner of your eye.
His name is Benjamin, and he hung himself after killing and cannibalising children to avoid capture by the police. Please picture him and remember the details. Everything about him. That is the only way to get rid of the curse.
I’m sorry to have passed him on to you, but I’ve already lost everything. I don’t want him to take more of my life away. I’m sorry. I’m so, very sorry.