Never Alone

Chapter 2

In eighth grade I was that small kid trying to fit in and was being taught bad things. My friends would start stealing alcohol and cigarettes from their parents but I was too scared to even try and drink with them, so I never did. At first I was very immature about things, or maybe just completely innocent or naïve. Later on I forgot about those friends because they were too mature for me and very mean too. I just opened my eyes and realized they were not real friends. So one day, I met this tall girl who I had no idea she even existed. We would take the same bus home and get down on the same stop. Yes, I know it is pretty horrible of me to not even notice her, but I was always in my own world. We ended up becoming real good friends; she would spend most of her time at my house. We had a lot in common, the music taste, we both enjoyed the same type of cartoons, we were both innocent minded, and felt rejected by the people around us. We were so immature we actually pretended all summer long that we were ninjas. For the first time I felt I had a real friend.

That same year the spiritual wars and depression had come back. The whispers and nightmares started happening more often. The grim reaper was always in my dreams for some reason. He would follow me till he would get to me and touch my heart. In those dreams I would die. They were not as scary but they were weird.

Then I entered High School. That year I went completely rebel, but at that age what teenager doesn't? I didn't care about what anyone thought at home anymore. I didn't care what people at school thought. If they had a problem I wasn't going to stay quiet. I had lost all respect towards my mother due to issues we always had between us (another war that only God was able to fix). My dad (grandpa) would hear from me if he spoke badly to Mami (grandma). I had exploded. I was fed up with life and the people around me. A person full of hate, anger, and sadness; every negative emotion filled my heart. Unfortunately, not only did my attitude take a turn, but my actions did too. I tried my first party and started drinking and smoking weed and cigarettes. I found out partying was not my thing, so within my close friends I would still drink and smoke occasionally. Don't get me wrong though, I was still not a big fan of those types of things, but I would still do it once in a while.

The way I thought about God had changed too. I thought He was not the God everyone thought He was. I didn't believe in the bible because I thought it was just written by people so why should I believe or follow something that was not actually done by God? Little did I know that the bible was influenced by the Holy Spirit, but I didn't understand that back then. I still didn't believe Jesus was God's son. I kept thinking he was just a prophet. Still for some reason I never stopped believing in God. I loved Him a lot; I always will. My actions spoke otherwise but still I was burning in passion for Him. I would get worked up when teenagers would speak badly about Him. I would defend His name. Even though I was not a good child and misbehaved, I couldn't hear people talk bad about Him. My blood would boil when hearing bad things about Him. I didn't care to lose friends by defending Him. I would sing to Him and invent songs in my head. I could go 3 hours straight singing with my ugly voice to Him. Even though I had an alcoholic mom and grandpa, and get in fights with her the short times I would see her; even though, I would have nightmares, and hear whispers, I knew He was with me. He would always come to the rescue I could feel His precense and comfort. I just needed to call His name so the voices could stop or when having nightmares calling His name is all it would take to wake up. Was I scared when going through that? Of course. Still I knew He wasn't going to let anything happen to me. This was a battle but I had faith God was working on it.

One day the tall girlfriend I had took the wrong path in life and even became a satanic. Her and the friends she made would pressure me to get in their group, but of course I didn't even get near them. With all honesty I thought they were ridiculous. Still I loved her, so I kept being her friend. She would try to persuade me to believe in Satan and spoke "wonders" about him and spoke badly about God. I would correct her and explain things to her, the little I knew, it seemed to work at times. We actually never had real religion arguments; It was never a problem between us.

The Devil never gave up though. He was doing anything he could to make me his. Not only was I trying to get persuaded to believe in him but the whispers in my head became worse and worse each time. There was many voices talking to me at the same time, but I couldn't understand anything they said. The words were like gibberish. I would often have dream paralysis; I was asleep but I felt I was awake I could see everything in my room and myself laying down, but I just couldn't move. It is the most desperate feeling to want to move and scream and not be able to. It's scary and very real especially when in those dreams you feel someone harassing you and touching you. Some nights it would choke me. I would wake up and still have the feeling of someone's hands on my neck. When that would happen I would cry out to God. Because of things I would remember from the people around me I would cry out Jesus name and rebuke him. Even though I didn't know Jesus, He would still come and save me. That's how loving He is to rescue someone that didn't care about Him and only cared to call Him when needed.

I tried being strong and not say anything to my family. I was afraid of what they would say. I knew it was not normal. I knew God was with me but I was getting completely lost; I needed guidance and someone to teach me. I knew I was fighting the Devil. He was my enemy; he was the one causing this.