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The Dead That Followed Me Too Many Times To Count

 

I was born in Panama, but when I was old enough, I left for the USA. I didn't want to go back there. Not to see family, not to reminisce. I never felt homesick. I just didn't want to go back. My fault... My choice and I had a good reason. I still have many family members in the old neighborhood, but am reluctant to place myself back into some painful, still very raw memories.

After all, experiencing the supernatural, especially if attacks are involved, it's not a pretty bunch of memories. But, My Father lives there. He fell in love with the Canal Zone, when he worked as the U. S. Postmaster. He gave up his U. S. Citizenship to stay there, after the U.S. Ended the affiliation with the Panama Canal.

It is an extremely different Panama these days, more like a third world country, and I worried a lot about my Father. Lawlessness is rampant, and there were times my father had to hide in the closet. It's like living in a war zone, with Police stations on every block. Gunfire is a weekly affair, but he refuses to leave his life as he knows it. My Father is getting up there in years, and he gets more stubborn with each day. I was running out of excuses. Time was ticking, and I knew I couldn't put off going for a visit any longer.

My Dad was thrilled to hear I was finally coming home. I hadn't thought of Panama, as home, not for a very long time. If my Father didn't live there, I would never look back.

I live in Hawaii, and it would have been great to bring my Father here, but he doesn't like to travel far. It is just too hard on his body these days. So, I sucked it up, and bought a ticket to Panama. In my heart, I knew it would make my Father happy, but I felt a sense of dread-all at the same time. I was not looking forward to being inundated with the endless visions of suffering.

Panama is a very poor country, more so than ever, since the USA pulled out of there. The street beggars really pull at your heart, and a lot of them die out there. On the sides of the roads, you see them. The fallen ones who have expired from disease, violence, lack of mental health care, old age, dementia. I saw it all, and I wanted to keep the past, in the past.

It had been thirty-eight years, and it was time to go back and face my demons... It was time to go back, and make an old man happy. You see, I have the gift of "second sight", Some call it clairvoyance. I call it a burden, at times.

Anyway, I got on the plane. This was one plane ride I absolutely did not enjoy! The memories came flooding back, and I forced them away with reading. When I grew tired of reading, the airline DVD player kept me entertained.

Upon landing, my body was wiped out, so I said a quick prayer for strength. After I collected my luggage, I pushed my way past the crowd, and went through the passport entry gate. The usual questions were asked, " why are you here... How long do you intend to stay, etc." and I was free to go find my Dad. I spotted his big old smiling face- in the masses of bodies. He was waiting behind the fenced exit area.

It was affecting me already, and my skin was crawling with goose bumps. Not a good sign. I couldn't wait to get out of there. The air conditioning wasn't blowing out cold air, but a kind of clammy coolness that made the air feel heavy. My Dad greeted me with a big hug, and his wife, Ely-kissed me on the cheek. They both wrapped their arms around me, and everybody was filled with the joy of being reunited.

It was a feeling that would leave me-the moment I stepped outside the airport terminal. It was like stepping into an endless bog. The ghostly images of men, women, and children surrounded me. It was horrible to hear them, and I tried to tune them out. They pulled at me, called to me, crying and screaming for help. I pretended not to hear them. Only a few of my family members know about my gifts and my Dad-wasn't one them. My dad and I carried my few suitcases, and Ely, his wife- followed behind us.

She chattered away, her high pitched excitement, was a bit over the top. She talked away, telling me what they had planned for me, and I barely heard her. My head was pounding with all the stimuli being pushed onto me. My focus was to get into their car, and leave behind the spectral people.

There were too many to count. Broken boys in their teens, Toddlers in dirty diapers, Old men with festering sores on their lined faces, women-who sold their bodies on the streets for food money, I heard their cries of pain, sorrow, and frustration. It was overwhelming to hear, and my heart ached with knowing, I couldn't do a thing for this group. There were just too many of them, and they were pulling away my energy, my life force. It's hard to explain, but I will try.

One entity has the power to exhaust my living energy, my light/life force, my Aura. I don't have time to explain this here, but you can visit my web site to view my explanation, www.ghost-e.com, and I think you will gain a better grasp of what I was experiencing.

When we reached my Father's home in the Canal Zone, I was ready to drop from exhaustion. He showed me to my room, and I proceeded to unpack. Staring out the window, I wondered what would happen to me here. This vacation of two weeks-it could break me. I prayed for strength, and the ability to endure the onslaught of lost souls. I had no doubt it would happen, and soon.

I went to find my father, and we sat and talked for a short while. It felt good to be with my Father, and just-connect. I realized how much I missed him over the years. I vowed to make the time together, a good one.

It was a quiet, uneventful night. When I woke in the morning, my mind and body, was refreshed. The streets around my father's house were bustling with activity. I could hear people talking and laughing as they went to work. When I went to the living room, I looked out the window, and I could see them all... The living and the dead. The living went through their daily routines, coffee cups in hand, rushing to catch the next bus. The dead followed in envy. Deceased relatives and friends, enemies... They were there as well.

The house sat on a busy corner. And I was above the action looking down onto the morning crowds. The homes in Panama are built on stilt like footings. All of the homes have tiled, covered patios built beneath their residences. This is where people go to socialize. Cars are parked in one small corner, and the covered patio areas, are as big as the length/width of the home. The rainy seasons don't allow for much "outside" activity, so these underneath tiled areas, is a necessity.

I looked down at the sidewalk underneath the window, there were entities, fading in and out. They stood beneath the big picture window, and raised their hands to me. They knew I could see them. I turned away. It wasn't the time or the place. I spent the morning with my family, and then my father expressed a need for a nap. I asked Ely if she would take me to the Causeway, and drop me off."I needed to stretch my legs", I told her. She was happy to take me there, and we were in the car, on our way to the Causeway.

In Panama, the Causeway is a man made stretch of road, built over water. It dead-ends out over the water. I had had some scary experiences there, and I needed to face my fears. Ely dropped me off, and I had two hours to myself.

My emotions were whirling within the rushing memories. Especially when I caught sight of the buzzards flying over the city. Ely dropped me off at the entry of the Causeway, and it overlooked the Canal, with views of the city in the distance. I stood on the sidewalk, drinking it all in. Last time I had been there, I was playing along the canal. A big old parking lot had been my playground. No one used it then, and as I approached, I could see that no one used it now.

I spotted them right away. More Buzzards! They were in the empty, parking lot-picking away at a ghostly apparition. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. This had to be third generation Buzzards and they were still trying to feed from the spectral image of a dead man. They would peck a couple of times, grow frustrated, and walk away. It was a horrible sight. I never forgot, it never left my Soul...

I remembered it all, as if it were yesterday, when I was very young, and found the bloodied body of a teen man. He was a beaten up mess, and his eyes were closed. I was exploring the old double decker bus, abandoned in the dirt parking lot, where I was playing. My parents were taking a walk along the Causeway, and had left me to enjoy my explorations. Back in those days, it wasn't so bad. Anyway, I chased the buzzards away, and it was quite a feat, since they were as tall as me. The buzzards were not happy to be chased away from their free food. Yes, they were feeding on him. I saw his chest rising up and down, and I screamed like there was no tomorrow. He was still alive, and they had been feeding of him! The worst part, there were these dark shadows seeming to hover over him, and they appeared to be encouraging the buzzards to come forward. They pushed at me a number of times. I wasn't hurt, but I still remember the feeling of utter darkness on my skin. It was the first time I had felt cold like that. It's the kind of cold that hurts through the bone.

I remembered the screams ripping from my throat. It was the worst thing I had seen to date and then-the man on the ground, he stopped breathing. I heard a kind of hiss as he exhaled his last breath. It was a terrible sound, but I knew he was dead. The buzzards grew brave, and I was being knocked around by their big wings. It stung as they hit me, but I kept fighting them back. At such a young age, I knew what they were doing was wrong, and I wouldn't allow it. I saw the adults running toward me. A policeman shot a gun over the water, and the buzzards flew away. Another policeman picked me up, and I collapsed in tears against his shoulder.

The shadows of the buzzards overhead, it haunted me, and I never forgot. They kept a close vigil then, and they were doing the same thing, as I walked slowly-to the spectral image on the ground. His eyes opened, and he lifted a hand to me. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. This was not a residual haunting, but an actual soul, who had been living this torment for...decades?

I took charge right away, and I knew my purpose. First thing I did? I took great pleasure in chasing away those big, ugly birds. This time, I wasn't a helpless child, and I was the one to tower over them. They flew away immediately, but stayed overhead-just watching me.

I told the young man he was not in bondage here. He looked puzzled. I asked him if he remembered me, and he looked into my eyes. He saw the little girl inside there, and he remembered. His eyes grew big, as he didn't quite understand yet, but I would help him understand. Telling him what year it was, and that his physical body had been lain to rest a long-long time ago, he started to shake. Tears brimmed over with realization, and I kneeled before him. Explaining things to a ghost, who is just beginning to understand he is not a physical being any longer, well, it's tough.

The rest? I saw him get up off the ground, and in surprise, run his hands all over his ethereal body. The wounds were no longer there, and his face took on a peaceful glow. A smile began when he saw who was waiting for him. In the distance, above the water, I saw the images of four to five people. I could barely hear them calling out to him, but he knew who they were. Without another look at me, he took off running toward them. I could feel the love; I could feel the relief and joy. Within the moment of a soft sigh, he was gone.

Struggling to get back onto my feet, I stood up tall, I felt empowered. I brushed the soil off my sore knees. My eyes took in the beauty of the Panama Canal, and I realized, I was no longer afraid of this place. My Soul felt lighter than it had in years! I smiled at the buzzards flying overhead. They were just-birds.

I was ready to face it all. " Bring it on..." I whispered. I felt...good

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The following comments are submitted by users of this site and are not official positions by yourghoststories.com. Please read our guidelines and the previous posts before posting. The author, ghostseer, has the following expectation about your feedback: I will read the comments and participate in the discussion.

swagkid (1 stories) (8 posts)
+1
13 years ago (2011-08-28)
[at] mjrv: a struggling country is called a developing country to you? America is supposedly the richest place to live and the richest state Ny called the empire state is a complete illusion. The broken down an abandoned buildings are all over the place and its simply a disguise to try and make it look like the ignorance Americans have bought into actually was creating something, meanwhile its nothing besides abonded graffiti ridden buildings... I doubt that this she was lying when she explained the hardships/poverty she experienced in panama when in one of the most "developed" states in America is flooded with it as well.
mjrv (1 posts)
-3
13 years ago (2011-01-03)
BloodyMary03 is 100% right, this lady is making up stuff that is NOT TRUE, I have lived in panama for the last 5 years of my life and her description of my beloved panama is COMPLETELY FALSE... Panama is one of the most developed latin american countries and it is VERY SAFE, in all my years there I never witnessed any shootings or violence of any sort. The whole police stations on every block and lawlessness thing is a LIE, and the third world country comment is very rude, the term used nowadays to refer to our lesser developed countries is "developing nation" thankyou very much. I don't know what panama this lady is talking about, because my panama is not like a war zone, it's more like a PARADISE and yes, I mean panama the latin american country not panama in florida. You barely even see street beggars over there; panama is not a "very poor country", like I said before, it is one of the most developed nations of latin america and it is a wonderful place to live ❤ and I think it is very sad that she is lying about such an amazing country
BloodyMary03 (5 posts)
 
14 years ago (2010-02-12)
For the people who still read this story:

Panama is not the cacahole this lady has put it out to be. It is a third world country, but in the process of development, and it is the most prosperous and advanced (economically and technologically) country in all Latin America. And while it's not perfectly safe (no place is, really) it is the safest country in this area of America as well. I have lived here in Panama for a little over two decades and I can attest that this country is a very good place to live and the claims made in this story are very over the top and wrong.
Rossimac (6 posts)
+1
15 years ago (2009-08-03)
Good story but I've gotta say... It's a little much to buy in to. How did the police show up again? Was it the commotion caused by a three year old being attacked by monstrous birds? The corpse apparition was being fed on by these vultures for decades? It was an interesting story. Had a few spaces where further details were desired. Thanks for sharing!
ghostseer (41 stories) (408 posts)
+1
15 years ago (2008-12-21)
ToraOkami303: Dreams, chest pain, feeling overly tired, I like to rule out the physical FIRST, before jumping to any conclusion. Sounds like you are a sensitive, and just developing your insight. The paranormal is not a black and white world of limitation. It's unpredicatable, scary at times, and extremely confusing. Got your request for yahoo IM. We are set to chat about your concerns. No worries, I am happy to help...Blessings, Ghostseer
ToraOkami303 (1 stories) (75 posts)
 
15 years ago (2008-12-20)
Does have little odds and ends with ghost like experiences make me gifted? Cause I've see two different spirits at my house one I now believe to be my grandpa telling me he got across ok the other... I have no idea... Then ever since I was little I'll be outside and suddenly hear my name be called but no one will be there (I've learned to ignore these) and I often feel like I'm being watched but my shades are drawn and my door is closed... Also sometime it feels like my chest is in pain it feels like my heart is being squeezed it's hard to describe it often comes with the feeling of being watched...it's scary have no idea what's going on... Can you maybe explain some of this?

~Tora~
ghostseer (41 stories) (408 posts)
+1
15 years ago (2008-11-30)
jrod: If I knew what happens when we die, I wouldn't be talking to so many deceased, confused SOULS. I think that some of us move on where we are supposed to go, and others get trapped. Even more-travel back and forth, and then there are the really bad people, who hide out and continue to haunt the living. I always thought we move on, but after forty years of seeing so many unusual situations, I think we are given that one last chance to find God. The evil is a constant in this world, and spiritual warfare can continue... Even in death, there is a battle over our soul.Remember, time means nothing to other side. I wouldn't worry so much about what happens on the other side, and concentrate on living in the here and now. We do not end- at Death, and I know I want to be ready. I guess we all will find out what it is all about, when it is our turn to cross over. Personally, I am not afraid of death. I also realize I won't be one of those who hang around, haunting a location or my loved ones. Not going to stress about it. I feel good in my beliefs, and I look forward to rcvg those answers. The good news?...Life doesn't end with death!...Blesssings, Ghostseer
jrod (5 posts)
 
15 years ago (2008-11-29)
Wow ghostseer, that was an amazing story. Thank you for sharing. I have a question for you: What happens when one dies? I heard that either the angels come and take your spirit or the demons come and take your spirit. Can you shed some insights? Thank you and God bless...
ghostseer (41 stories) (408 posts)
 
15 years ago (2008-10-31)
ParaTam: I have tried in so many ways-to shut down, close off, quiet... The paranormal knockings on my door. This "Gift", I have been given, it's ON 24/7.Nothing has worked to date. If anybody has any ideas for me, I would certainly appreciate the information. I haven't given up though!~Blessings, Ghostseer
ParaTam (3 stories) (80 posts)
 
15 years ago (2008-10-31)
Carri -
My daughter (she is Cari!) sees spirits too. She is 14 now, and has seen them since she was 3 years old. My suggestion to you is to be your daughter's advocate as I have done - read as much as you can about the gift and explain in her terms as much as you can so she isn't afraid. You may even be fortunate enough in your research to find a psychic who works with gifted children - like the Psychic Children show on TV with Chip Coffey. I've heard they are out there.

I also think the sensitive are beacons. We live in a house that only had one family living in it, but Cari says there have been up to 50 spirits there at one time. Even though the rest of us (me - mom, my husband and older daughter) aren't as sensitive as Cari, we still have paranormal experiences. Most of them are not negative - we have learned to co-exist with the spirits and communicate with some of thes, including Cari's twin brother Cade. Some of the spirits in our home are residents, but some of them come and go - we are able to communicate with them once, then never see them again. They have come from places like Florida and out west, never having been in NY state or never having known us or our relatives, etc. We see them, hear them, feel them, but even Cari has never been contacted to pass messages to the living, etc.

Ghostseer -
First, let me commend you for such a well-written story. You have a gift there, too!

Second, I realize seeing what my daughter Cari goes through that sometimes seeing spirits seems like a curse not a gift. Although the spirits and their suffering make you weary at times, you seem to have some to terms with your abilities. If you believe there are reasons why things are the way they are, maybe you have a destiny to help the living communicate with the dead, or to help the dead end their eternal suffering. I've read online and listened to others that there are ways to put yourself in a bubble of protection against the unwanted, to block things out when you don't want them. Have you ever tried to see if this works for you? I'm sure it is a learned ability that comes easier and more swiftly the more you use it. I hope you discover the purpose of your life's path!

Blessed Be!
ParaTam
ghostseer (41 stories) (408 posts)
+1
15 years ago (2008-10-31)
I am a strong woman. Life throws all kind of curves at you, and you do the best you can, and deal with it. Living with one foot on the other side is challenging-to say the least, but writing about it-really helps. Support your little girl no matter what. When I was little, things like this, well-they were not as common place as they are today. You had to be careful what you said, and who you told. With gifts like this, you do have to be guarded what you are exposed to. Protect your child, and give her as normal a childhood as possible. Life is meant to be cherished. Appreciate her gifts, and let her shine... You can read more about me on my web site www.ghost-e.com.Blessings, Ghostseer
carri (1 stories) (9 posts)
 
15 years ago (2008-10-30)
wow what a great story. I think your the first psychic male that I have read. Pretty cool. I can only hear spirits or they come to me in my dreams. But my daughter can see and talk to them like you. She is very afraid she is only 6. But she sees the living and the dead like you. I guess you are like a beacon to the dead they come to who ever can see them. My daughter has the same problem. Sometimes I do too.
Carri
ghostseer (41 stories) (408 posts)
+1
15 years ago (2008-10-30)
I bear it because I have no choice!. It's as much a part of me... As breathing. I don't know any other way to be. I feel strong sometimes, and other times, I get really drained with it all. I survive the best way I can. My faith, my beliefs... THE KNOWING what is on the other side waiting for us all...it's a part of who I am. I am a tough cookie!. Blessings, Ghostseer
Laura1103 (1 stories) (10 posts)
+1
15 years ago (2008-10-30)
Wow! This is a very powerful story. How can you bear with everything you see? I'm amazed and confused at the same time. You must be a very stong person. Thanks for sharing your story. 😊
ghostseer (41 stories) (408 posts)
 
15 years ago (2008-10-30)
DUnknown:What happened after the police?...It didn't seem important as I was handed back to my parents, and they (the police) went about business as usual. By the time (remember, I was just a young girl) everything was done and over, there was a huge crowd of curious people. My parents took me away from the scene. We were out of there in the blink of an eye. All they knew (at the time) was I had stumbled onto a dead body. I tried to tell them he was breathing when I found him, but they didn't believe me. I guess it was easier for them to think I found him after the fact-rather than, " You saw him die?...no honey!, he was already in heaven when you found him "...They thought they were comforting me.

Surya: Yes, it was one of the hardest things I have ever experienced. To think I stayed away for so long, but this was only one of the reasons I stayed away. Yes, I have more experiences to share from my early memories. They will be posted eventually.Blessings, Ghostseer
Surya (39 stories) (867 posts)
+1
15 years ago (2008-10-30)
What a story. It must have been really difficult to go back Panama, especially when there are so many bad memories. Congratulations you plucked up the courage to go back. Have you considered that apart from going back to see your family you were meant to go back. A calling to help the young man's dying soul to understand what happened to him and help him to move on. When you realised what you had to do, you felt joy, happy and more importantly those fears you carried was lifted. I hope you will write more of your encounters.

Wish I could back and face my demons 😢
DUnknown (4 stories) (65 posts)
 
15 years ago (2008-10-30)
What happen to the policeman? Nothing mentioned after collapsing on his shoulder...

JAM

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