STRANGER IN MY OWN HOME  will eventually be a book compiling information & evidence over the years as a conduit

Here is a synopsis of what’s in the book:





“If asked, Cynthia Rae would’ve said she was a Jacqueline-of-all-trades:  successful house flipper, happy divorcee, doting grandma, staunch atheist. But what she never would’ve expected in a million years was that she could be a medium who talks to  the dead. Or were they the dead?

Once waking from a portentous dream filled with unearthly sounds & images, her home came alive with a macabre assortment of ghouls, gropers & things that go bump in the night – a veritable Grand Central Station for forces paranormal.  

Her haunting began as a visual parade of strange beings but, little by little, the voices started speaking to her:  at first, as cloying whispers. Then, in demands for attention. And finally, as shouts she could no longer deny. She couldn’t believe that nothing stays buried forever, be it bones or bodies.

I was calling the parapsychologist again, I couldn’t deny it. The shadow was back.
My senses were coming alive. That’d be a way to say it. I seem to be hearing & seeing things that were completely new to me. I never cared about the paranormal before. Why would I? I’m a practical, grounded business woman. I’d gotten my life in order and come out onto something resembling a quietly satisfying top. I was happy doting love & attention on my grandson. I was in a place where some people would know real content & then, things shifted. It was gradual at first, but there was a palpable shift happening.
I wasn’t trying to bug George, but I always felt like I was bugging him.  George was an expert in his field of parapsychology & in demand. He’s a busy guy, I get that. I had no one to talk to about the haunting.  The fear of being labeled & shunned by family & friends in a conservative Christian state was an unbearable thought for me. And in my business as a house flipper, who would buy a house that was haunted? George became my only lifeline. But, for as smart as George was, I swore sometimes he just didn’t get it.
A different array of phenomenon was manifesting, sensory moments were starting to take shape, like I was being led down a hallway towards…..? Ahh, that was the maddening part: the unknown aspect of it all. And, if I wasn’t alone, what exactly was I keeping as company?
This stuff scared me, to be completely honest. I felt like I had no solace in any of it. That intense fear was paralyzing & any bad thing could happen when you’re messing with forces you don’t understand. My nerves frayed as the days wore on. My sleep seemed prone to a schedule of invasion from forces I couldn’t identify but hazily. And it kept ramping up! I felt my peripheral vision had bloomed because I was always on guard for….well, I didn’t know what, honestly. An expectancy permeated the air inside the house. And here I am conflicted with the idea of being tortured in hell for all of eternity without a choice whether to interact with the paranormal forces. What did I know about this stuff?
I began noticing what appeared at first to be a heavy traffic of steps up on the second floor, their shiveree beginning to captivate my attention. There were footsteps all hours of the night that would patrol upstairs on a schedule of their own design, always out of eyesight but never earshot. And that damn shadow kept slinking around, sometimes along the baseboards in the kitchen. It would slide along the creases in the wall, stuttering in wild gestures & hurrahs. I couldn’t say for sure, but my intuition – something I never put much stock into before – even began suspecting that this living shadow was the one pacing upstairs & stealing my sleep. If I wasn’t alone, what exactly was I keeping as company?
Entities began making themselves known in the dark of sleep, sounds of the house snapping, cracking almost like in some type of code as if they were answering my thoughts. Its one thing to hear them speak to you, but there was more, an ‘unusual more.’ I had periodic moments of dread wondering if this was an onset to loosing my mind. What a horrific thought. If I had a choice between this & a haunting, I couldn’t even choose.
The haunting gave a new definition to taunting. And if I had to describe it, I would describe it exactly like this, a “taunting haunting.” Something was sewing their influences in what seemed to have life of its own. I didn’t like it at all. Not one bit, but I knew by this time I had to do something, I just didn’t know what. The exhaustion & stress was inescapable. It kept riding me, keeping me in a state of confusion. And when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did.
 I was at crossroads with whatever was raping me from a normal life. Its overt persistence was a constant reminder it was in control,  being persistent & unwilling to heed to any alternative agenda besides its own. Opening that door into the unknown was a daring choice but I knew by now I really did not have a choice.
 My Christian  background was my fear base. Those scenes from Revelation had been burned into my mind from church. How could those images not press themselves into younger minds?  The things the angels always fought smelled of brimstone & sulfur, it said. They swam in a lake of fire & laughed horridly, it said. They tortured sinners in Hell for all of eternity, it said. Dear God, did this have to be them? I had to know.
George told me not to use any religious rituals for banishing, but I didn’t listen.  I learned there was a exorcist in my community. I felt compelled to render this type of banishment before I opened that next door. After making this decision, I was finally feeling a sense of ‘safe’ & knew for the first time in months that I might have an undisturbed sleep from the unknown forces that harassed & harangued me at night.
Nighttime came with contentious anticipation after that day. I pulled the covers back placing my hand on the bottom sheet as I shifted into the bed. Pulling back quickly from the bed in disbelief I felt a sandy texture on top of the sheet. I turned the light on and was in disbelief to discover salt was spread almost evenly from corner to corner under the covers of the neatly made bed. Knowing I was the only person in my home that day besides the exorcist, I knew after all the ghost shenanigans, there could be only one answer. I was mortified! It occurred to me that a pattern was occurring……rejection spurred the intensity of the taunting activity.
The taunting & ghostly shenanigans continue to demand  on a schedule of their own.  Loud knocking on the wall or a whistle, “Yoo hoo” vibrates next to my head after I retire to bed. I find a corner next to the wall believing the wall might somehow protect me or give me a false sense of safety? The loud knocking on the wall next to my head permeates through my ears shifting & stiffening my neck & head. Dreaded nights passed & I found myself in a fetal position curled up under the blanket surrounded by routinely building a pillow fort around me. Every night I closed my eyes, these faces, many faces, one after another would pass by my eyes like a slide show. Who were these strangers? What did they want? I don’t know them, not one. I continued to be awakened by what felt like intense penetrating electrical sensations throughout my body as if they intentionally wanted me to hear or see some kind of ghostly manifestation.
The taunting whistles & knocking would continue to manifest next to my head at night. I thought cowarding to the the closest wall would give me a sense of being protected & somehow immune to the ghostly shenanigans.  I heard a male voice tell me to succumb after knocking on the wall next to my head. Feeling tired & frustrated, I got up & pounded back on the wall while telling him to “Fuck Off!” Just moments after the wall bellowed a shocking & vicious sound like it was caving in!
Paranoia radiated my existence. I began hiding in my closet to dress & undress knowing how silly it was, but I was convinced by now I was being watched. I acquired a new art to getting ready in the morning. I started dressing in my walk-in closet realizing by now that I was being watched at all hours & time.  By now, I could only find false comfort in small cubby hole spaces in my home.  My false sense of privacy was destroyed one morning as I was in my walk-in closet & experienced a 5 ft rack of clothes fly straight out at me. Already aware of the strength these forces possessed, it was this incident that brought me to a new level of awareness. Reflecting back on this incident, I became more cognizant of my desensitization & exhaustion from the procession of the unearthly occurrences. My response to this was nothing more than telepathically addressing the forces by conveying this thought to them…”Good one.” This took me to a new level of respect for these unknown forces.
My journey was one of defeat & recognizing that what I was doing, just wasn’t working. I turned a new corner & a new approach with my interaction & communication with what felt like daunting & atrocious  forces. My desire & drive to find the truth was unconquerable.
This is where my real journey begins. I will take you to unusual, rare & forbidden heightened knowledge & experiences communicating & interacting with these unknown forces. Dare to enter the unknown & discover answers for the unexplained & unusual.