By: Marc McMahon

I made a new friend today. The way that I met her though is the thing that’s throwing me off a little right now. I met a lady today, or at least I think it was a lady. Let me try and explain. I have suspected for a while now that my apartment has ghosts.

There are even a couple of places in my apartment that are kind of like ghost activity hot spots you might say with one of them being about 3 steps into my hallway just past the stove along the left wall. The other is while I’m standing at my kitchen sink which is where I was when I met my new friend.

I talked with her for a moment although I cannot recall the words that were spoken. What I do remember was her hair. It flowed along with shimmering, ebony-colored strands. It was brilliant, with slashes of orange and Burgandy that lit up the room like flames from a hot fire. Accompanied by the pearls of wisdom’s gray that streak through it and her hair looked like it danced as if it was alive. If I didn’t know better it would appear as if her hair were leaping flames of love gliding on the wind as she flew by in a crimson and violet-colored mist.

Almost as if she was some kind of angel dispatched from heaven to impart love and light into the darkness of humanity.

I knew there was something peculiar about that morning when I woke up to the sound of children screaming and glass breaking in loud pops and crashes. It was loud enough to wake me up so it was a real audible sound, not a dream. I flung my comforter, the new one I just received the one that has bright red and black Japanese style markings hand sewn into the shiny gold fabric. And frantically rushed into my kitchen where the sound was coming from.

As I approached the source of the sound which was if you can believe it at my kitchen sink. I heard the children’s screams slowly turn to laughter as the sound of breaking glass quickly faded. Then just as things were beginning to get uncomfortably quiet you could start to hear the voice of mothers calling their children home for dinner.

Then in a moment here, they came, from every direction I could see mothers and children coming from all around. As they approached they circled overhead as if to look for a better place to land. Then without notice, they all started landing and gathering and the next thing you know I am standing in the middle of 100’s of mothers with children waiting for instructions on what to do, think, and feel next.

Standing at my kitchen sink surrounded by spirits I call on the one person who I think can help me, my newfound angel friend I met there just a few hours earlier.

She never rushed to my aid like superman would have back in the day but she did send me some words of wisdom or ways to best handle this situation. Her advice worked amazingly well. She simply told me I had been chosen to look after these folks. All of them are mothers and children who lost their lives and whose souls are fleeing abusive, self-destructive homes and wanting better.

The thing is their trust has been broken so many times and many of those times the betrayal came to them from a loved one or person whom they held dear to their heart, so this hurt them deeply. Being betrayed by someone you never thought would ever betray you takes your breath away it hurts so bad. It forever alters the way you look at humanity.

So fearful, broken, and betrayed they have come. Sent here to find refuge from the darkness. Brought here to slowly start to heal. The medicine most needed for these wounds is the strongest medicine known to man it’s called Love! With repeated healthy doses of this medicine, the darkness that was forced upon them and the wounds it caused will slowly begin to heal and in time, one by one, these chosen ones will slowly drift off into the light and finally be at peace.

About The Author: Marc is a 53-year-old Author, Speaker, and Soldier in a war to loosen the grasp that Substance Abuse has on our society. He is a Father, Son, and friend to all those seeking refuge from this incorrigible disease. Marc resides in the beautiful Pacific Northwest where he enjoys writing, hiking, and kicking the disease of addiction in the teeth every chance he gets. As Marc always likes to say, be blessed, my friends.

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