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The curse of the Empath
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The Nerdalius :: Literature :: Stories
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The curse of the Empath
There are people in this world capable of things most would think impossible. The ability to feel emotions of other, they exist as conduits for the emotions of others that quite often cannot be expressed. Most often than not, these people have no control over the emotions that they have. Channelling the emotions of others, they are often seen as bi-polar or simply too weird for people to understand. For so long they suffer, without help, without guidance, that they began to lose grip, doomed to slowly go insane from the moment they are born. Society is cruel, throughout the ages they were called witches, often burned at the stake for trying to help others. Some were even hung and to this day they are shunned. “But at least we don’t kill them now.” Is that what I hear you thinking? Don’t you? When you shun someone so much that they decide they don’t want to live any more, was it not the shunners whom killed them? Causing someone to feel the only option is to end their life is as good as lighting the flames or tying the noose.
Then, of course, there are those empaths whom suffer worst of all. The emotions of the living and the dead can be channelled through them. Those emotions the dying felt in their last moments are often more powerful than the emotions of any living being. Uncontrolled, rage, betrayal, hopelessness; they all fester in the spiritual plane leaving nothing left for the empathy to feel but that emotion. Even worse still is to feel the physical pain they had felt in their last moments. Each one knowing what it feels like to die, without having died themselves, without knowing what happens after death. Not everyone becomes a wandering spirit after all, some find peace.
I am one such empath whom feels both emotions and physical pain. Allow me to explain a few things, we empaths cannot control our abilities for many years, finding it difficult to live with. I still have not learned to control it, it’s difficult and terrifying both. The horror one goes through when experiencing this supposed “gift” for the first time is immense. I know that because I didn’t take it too well at all for my first time. Allow me to explain:
It was midnight and the house was silent. All were sleeping, even the little baby in her crib. Then, all of a sudden, I heard a voice shout my name. Jumping, I looked up. I did not recognise the face looking down at me, but I could see the slats of the upper bunk through her head. I had no idea as to what was going on. Staring in horror as the ghostly figure left the room, I looked around to see five others, just sat there minding their own business. Two, seemed perfectly alive if they were not transparent and emitting an odd glow of white. Two of them had blood dripping from various wounds, or what looked like it, their auras, they were… yellow, also orange, I never understood why. The other, no, the other was the most terrifying of all. A mangle face popped up from beside my bed, the eyes red and glaring at me. The aura a blood red like its eyes, the evil intent was clear. Only when this caused by to throw up did the other spirits take notice. Rushing on the dark figure, they all vanished.
After this it had been calm, my parents putting it down to some sort of stomach bug. I know a stomach bug when I get one and that was not one of those times. I had not been ill at all afterward, just shaken up. Two years passed without another episode and then it hit once more. Each day for weeks I would sit in the assembly hall and would get these odd blotches all over my skin. They were unexplained. My friends would see them, so I knew it was not my imagination. Whenever a teacher would come to check it after the worried claims of my friends had been heard, the blotches were gone. This puzzled both me and my friends for weeks. But it became clear when one day after school, it happened again. That time, I saw the child spirit with the same affliction, it seemed they died of whatever it was causing it. Not surprising considering the sudden fever I always got along with it. Ever since then the problems had simply magnified.
Dealing with spirits each and every day, people found it scary that one moment I would be calm, happy, then would burst into a fight of violent rage, or burst into a fit of hysterical tears. I won’t bore you with more examples of things that sound insane from my childhood, you thinking it’s only the imagination of a child. Let us now move onto more recent events.
I was 18 years old, I was rudely awoken by something and looking up at the ceiling, there it was. Flames surrounded it, engulfing my bedroom ceiling; there were no eyes, merely flesh where it seemed the eyes were sown shut. The skin on it and the straggly black strand of hair, it was terrifying to behold. I was paralysed, unable to move. Screaming the name Katie, over and over to no avail although I had no reason to be. I still, to this day, know no one with that name. Months later I had another experience. A monster like spirit had shown up in my room and I had not been asleep. It stood there in a thunderstorm, taunting me with dark laughs. I felt it tear its claws through my flesh without it having marked my skin. The pure pain of it almost knocked me clean out. A rush of a figure of light that I could barely make out through the pain saved me from further distress.
Then of course, just this week, I had experienced a spirit that didn’t even know I could see and feel it. He was sat there, feeling such hopelessness, such longing. The slash down his torso started from his left shoulder, moving down as far as it could have and I felt the pain. I have died many times without actually dying, so much so that I do not fear death. To feel the pain that a spirit felt in their last moments is more than just painful, I see this supposed “gift” as nothing but an uncontrollable curse.
Then, of course, there are those empaths whom suffer worst of all. The emotions of the living and the dead can be channelled through them. Those emotions the dying felt in their last moments are often more powerful than the emotions of any living being. Uncontrolled, rage, betrayal, hopelessness; they all fester in the spiritual plane leaving nothing left for the empathy to feel but that emotion. Even worse still is to feel the physical pain they had felt in their last moments. Each one knowing what it feels like to die, without having died themselves, without knowing what happens after death. Not everyone becomes a wandering spirit after all, some find peace.
I am one such empath whom feels both emotions and physical pain. Allow me to explain a few things, we empaths cannot control our abilities for many years, finding it difficult to live with. I still have not learned to control it, it’s difficult and terrifying both. The horror one goes through when experiencing this supposed “gift” for the first time is immense. I know that because I didn’t take it too well at all for my first time. Allow me to explain:
It was midnight and the house was silent. All were sleeping, even the little baby in her crib. Then, all of a sudden, I heard a voice shout my name. Jumping, I looked up. I did not recognise the face looking down at me, but I could see the slats of the upper bunk through her head. I had no idea as to what was going on. Staring in horror as the ghostly figure left the room, I looked around to see five others, just sat there minding their own business. Two, seemed perfectly alive if they were not transparent and emitting an odd glow of white. Two of them had blood dripping from various wounds, or what looked like it, their auras, they were… yellow, also orange, I never understood why. The other, no, the other was the most terrifying of all. A mangle face popped up from beside my bed, the eyes red and glaring at me. The aura a blood red like its eyes, the evil intent was clear. Only when this caused by to throw up did the other spirits take notice. Rushing on the dark figure, they all vanished.
After this it had been calm, my parents putting it down to some sort of stomach bug. I know a stomach bug when I get one and that was not one of those times. I had not been ill at all afterward, just shaken up. Two years passed without another episode and then it hit once more. Each day for weeks I would sit in the assembly hall and would get these odd blotches all over my skin. They were unexplained. My friends would see them, so I knew it was not my imagination. Whenever a teacher would come to check it after the worried claims of my friends had been heard, the blotches were gone. This puzzled both me and my friends for weeks. But it became clear when one day after school, it happened again. That time, I saw the child spirit with the same affliction, it seemed they died of whatever it was causing it. Not surprising considering the sudden fever I always got along with it. Ever since then the problems had simply magnified.
Dealing with spirits each and every day, people found it scary that one moment I would be calm, happy, then would burst into a fight of violent rage, or burst into a fit of hysterical tears. I won’t bore you with more examples of things that sound insane from my childhood, you thinking it’s only the imagination of a child. Let us now move onto more recent events.
I was 18 years old, I was rudely awoken by something and looking up at the ceiling, there it was. Flames surrounded it, engulfing my bedroom ceiling; there were no eyes, merely flesh where it seemed the eyes were sown shut. The skin on it and the straggly black strand of hair, it was terrifying to behold. I was paralysed, unable to move. Screaming the name Katie, over and over to no avail although I had no reason to be. I still, to this day, know no one with that name. Months later I had another experience. A monster like spirit had shown up in my room and I had not been asleep. It stood there in a thunderstorm, taunting me with dark laughs. I felt it tear its claws through my flesh without it having marked my skin. The pure pain of it almost knocked me clean out. A rush of a figure of light that I could barely make out through the pain saved me from further distress.
Then of course, just this week, I had experienced a spirit that didn’t even know I could see and feel it. He was sat there, feeling such hopelessness, such longing. The slash down his torso started from his left shoulder, moving down as far as it could have and I felt the pain. I have died many times without actually dying, so much so that I do not fear death. To feel the pain that a spirit felt in their last moments is more than just painful, I see this supposed “gift” as nothing but an uncontrollable curse.
Re: The curse of the Empath
This is neither a gift nor a curse, it's a power. This simply shows that you are afraid of your abilities. The simple fact that you can channel spirits means you are more powerful than most empaths, but what you are showing here is that you are running from it. To control such an ability, you need to stand up to it. You need to accept it to be able to control it. No, sometimes it's not a pleasant thing, but with time and understanding you can learn to control what is happening to you.
Being able to channel spirits means that you can help them find peace. That is literally the greatest thing you could ever do for an earth bound spirit.
Having control over your abilities means you can make your "episodes" shorter and you can send the spirits away.
To me, it sounds like you are so caught up in hopelessness that you are forgetting who controls what. YOU are the empath, YOU control what happens. Do not let someone you don't know push you around like that, stand up for yourself. It takes practice and patience and a couple of hard hits, but with time you can learn to control it, IF you stand up for yourself.
Being able to channel spirits means that you can help them find peace. That is literally the greatest thing you could ever do for an earth bound spirit.
Having control over your abilities means you can make your "episodes" shorter and you can send the spirits away.
To me, it sounds like you are so caught up in hopelessness that you are forgetting who controls what. YOU are the empath, YOU control what happens. Do not let someone you don't know push you around like that, stand up for yourself. It takes practice and patience and a couple of hard hits, but with time you can learn to control it, IF you stand up for yourself.
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The Nerdalius :: Literature :: Stories
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