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Gothic Beauty Magazine

Thursday, 2 October 2014

Angry Eyes



For those of you who follow my twitter feed, you already know  who this freaky man is. For those of you who don't, I would like to formally introduce you to; Angry Eyes- a spirit who has been around since I was a very little girl, hence the odd name. I named him Angry Eyes because of the red that runs from his black eyes.

I first met Angry Eyes in the secure facility Day Care that I attended between the ages of 3-6, which was built out of a re purposed residential school. I didn't know the history of the place when I was a child, only that my stepfather's family (who are Native Canadian, and many of them attended residential school) did not like the place and would not come to the school for any reason.

One day when it was "Nap time", everyone got out their mats and lay down as usual. the teacher and her assistant would walk up and down between us, making sure no one was doing any bullying or playing or talking or pretty much anything other than laying there quietly pretending to sleep for 15 minutes. halfway through the time, the phone rang and first the teacher and then her assistant left the room-the assistant watching through the door way to where we were.

As I lay there, listening to what the teacher was saying on the phone, I heard a new sound; footsteps, coming from the back of the cavernous classroom. Thinking another kid had gotten up, I opened my eyes, looking towards the door where the assistant stood, speaking to the teacher and watching us. Usually, if another kid got up, she would yell out for the kid to lay down. But this time, she kept scanning the room as if nothing was happening. confused, I rolled over and looked to the back of the classroom.

It wasn't a kid- there was someone very tall, walking between the rows like the teacher did, looking at us. I could see some of the kids the tall person was closest to moving, rolling over to look at him. The assistant saw them move, and we were told to lay down. Everyone did again, but the tall person kept moving between us. As they got closer, I could see they were a man. And then, as he finally looked at me, I saw what I tried to depict in the painting above. He has shiny black eyes, gray skin on most of his body, and red blood running from his black eyes. Beneath the blood, there is blue face paint. As a child I had not yet seen face paint other than the kind my mom paid the lady at the fair to paint for me- a tiger, or "Sailor Moon." As he looked at me, he suddenly seemed interested in me, and stepped over the girl beside me (who immediately curled into a little ball) to crouch down beside me and get a better look, I guess.

When he crouched down beside me, I could see more of the details of his face. Even right beside me, he seemed to fade in and out, like turning on the light would just wipe him out. I said, "Hi!" just because he was looking at me so intently- his reaction to which, was to disappear. Suddenly, the assistant was standing over me, and told me not to talk. a few minutes later, "Nap Time" was over and we were allowed to run around again. When I spoke to the other kids about what had happened, they all said they had seen the man- but none of them had seen his face.

That night, as I was just beginning to fall asleep, I felt something move the blanket by my shoulder. Thinking my mother was there, I opened my eyes to say goodnight to her- and saw Angry Eyes instead. He was leaning over me, looking at me as carefully as he had in the classroom. This time, however, I felt scared, and screamed so loudly that not only did he disappear, but my mother came flying from the front of the house so fast she almost broke my bedroom door. She comforted me, and when I told her what had happened, she told me what I have told so many people in the years since. You should not be afraid of a spirit- no matter how scary they look. They don't have power over you, and they can't hurt you unless you allow it. She told me that I was stronger than him, because I am alive, and he is not.

From that night on, I was not afraid of Angry Eyes- most of the time. He would pop out suddenly sometimes and scare me that way, but I could sit on the couch with him standing behind me without freaking out- something that was, at that age, impossible with any other spirit. As I got used to him being around, he began to follow me, and eventually, he came to be my spirit guide.
When I asked him to tell me about himself, he told me that he was never alive- that he had always been a spirit, but that he had been born from the sadness of the children who lived at the school. Not knowing what he was talking about, I repeated what he had said to my stepfather, who, needless to say was very freaked out. I was 3/4 years old- I didn't know anything about residential schools, or that any children had ever been sad in the old building.

When I got older, my parents told me what Angry Eyes had meant. I remember I cried because I couldn't understand why Residential schools had ever been allowed to exist.

To this day, Angry Eyes is still hanging around, sometimes here and sometimes not. He is the reason I tell people to respect a spirit, no matter if it is a Demon or an innocent little kid, because they are all intelligent, with emotions like you and I. He is the reason I am not afraid of spirits at all, and I believe that him being around is what enabled me to keep seeing spirits past childhood- most people grow out of it, I didn't.


Angry Eyes is now part of the family.