Seemingly Random
This is an entry from my Autobiography, I am The Phoenix. It’s about one of the more interesting synchronicities that occurred during my earlier years in the 1980s. This is a story about how a series of seemingly random events that undoubtedly saved me from the strong possibility of being murdered.
The year was 1986 and I had just started to come across the words The Phoenix.
I had come across the name of The Phoenix before 1986, but they made no blip in my consciousness. I had forgotten everything about who I was, so completely; I had no memory or even resonance with those two words.
This was by design because if I remembered who I was, then the entire point of why I was here and what I was doing would become moot.
It was in 1986 that those words finally started to register, and I took more notice.
It was in the next week, after taking notice of those words for the first time, that the first major attack occurred. It was an incident wherein if things had gone differently, I’m quite certain I would have been murdered.
Naivety
When my mother remarried, my stepfather had two grown sons. One of them had some psychological issues and could end up being quite aggressive and violent. His name was Emond (Not his real name). I met him in 1981 when I was 16 years old.
In my naivety, I thought that I might be able to help him. But I had no clue what the hell I was doing. All my theories were pretty much “Pie in the Sky” type ideals.
The trouble was that no one could help Emond because he was trying to destroy himself. I do not know what brought him to that state, nor is this important to this story. Over time, Emond grew worse; and by the time 1986 came along, I had come to realize that he was beyond my help.
In fact, it was only around that time that I was starting to understand Soul Healing. Nonetheless, it would be a while before I really understood it well enough to utilize its properties and make a difference.
The White Bic Lighter
One day, I decided to buy a white Bic lighter. Why? I don’t know. Don’t even smoke. I carried it with me for three months and kept on lighting it randomly until it was about two thirds empty. Then I put it away.
About three months later, I got a blackhead and had heard that you could sterilize a needle with a flame to pop it. For that sole purpose, I picked up the lighter again and carried it with me. Ironically, I never got around to doing the flame on the needle thing.
On a Saturday, a week or so later, I was home alone. My Mother and stepfather were away at their holiday house where they spent every second weekend.
I was in the Lounge room and had left the front door open; as I was prone to doing back in those days.
That particular Saturday night, I was going out to dinner with three friends. This was something that I had never done before with those people, nor would I do it again. It just seemed like a good idea at the time.
The Phone Call
It was around 2 pm when suddenly, in walked Emond. One look at him and I knew I was in danger. There was something about him that said if I did not watch myself very carefully, I would be in for a world of hurt. Emond sat down on the couch, and I told him I would be back in a minute.
I rushed downstairs to my computer room and made a phone call to a friend of mine, Paul. He was the one person I could think of who could help me. One, he was an ex-biker, and he knew how to look after himself. Two, he was bigger than Emond, who already was much bigger than me.
I had met Paul the year before, and we had a mutual interest in computers. We got along well and he was one of my best friends for several years.
CB Antenna
Back then, I was shy about asking for help, as I didn’t want to be a bother to anyone. At first, I fabricated a story to Paul that I needed help putting up a CB antenna on top of the roof. This was something I did want done, but it wasn’t on my agenda for that day.
He said, “Sure!” He’d be around to help.
I asked if he could make it now.
He said, “What’s the matter, Gaz? Afraid you’ll fall off the roof?”
I realized then that I had to tell him what was going on. So, I explained that I needed help.
Paul caught the urgency in my voice and he said he would be right over.
I went back upstairs just as Emond was coming down to look for me. We went back to the Lounge room and I asked him what was up?
Powers
Emond began talking about how he was tired of people giving him shit and that he was not going to take it anymore. I looked into his eyes, and he said, “Don’t look at me, Gary, or I’ll bash you.”
Emond went on to say that he knew I had powers and could plant thoughts in his mind. He did not want me to use them against him. If I tried, he would bash me.
At the time, I suspected I had powers, but no real proof that they existed. It was also something I never spoke about with others. It’s not like I had much I could say about it. So, at the time, it was a very odd and chilling comment.
I also couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else there. His eyes were dark and, thinking back, I sensed a demonic presence.
Longest 10 Minutes
It was only ten minutes before Paul drove, like a maniac, into the driveway. It was the longest ten minutes of my life.
For me, the cavalry had arrived. I knew that I was safe with Paul around. Emond, on the other hand, was not at all pleased. I don’t know what his agenda was that day, but I am certain that hurting me was high on his list.
Paul and I got the ladder out and put up the antenna. I was up on the roof, and he was downstairs checking the squelch on the CB radio.
Emond climbed up onto the roof and I thought: Damn. This ain’t good.
I quickly picked up a screwdriver and held it in a defensive position; working to place myself between him and the ladder.
Emond said that he didn’t like Paul; that he wasn’t stupid and knew what was going on.
I told him I had no idea what he was talking about and continued circling back to the ladder, still holding the screwdriver in a casual defensive position.
Fury
When I got there, I quickly climbed down and told Paul what had happened. Paul did not let me out of his sight after that. Emond hung around. I sensed his anger and fury, but he was not able to do anything. At least, not with Paul watching him like a hawk.
As I had to go pick up my friend for the dinner date, I had the perfect excuse to leave. I told both of them it was time for me to go. Paul headed to his car to wait for me and make sure I left safely.
Emond and I stood at the front door. I told him I needed to lock up so he had to leave, too. Emond said he was going to stay, and he would let himself out.
If he thought I was going to let him do that, then he had another thing coming. I said, once again, that he had to leave. Emond thought for a moment, and then told me he’d be right back. He ran into the house and a few seconds later returned.
Matches
He said, “Tell you what, give me some matches and I’ll leave.” He needed them for lighting up his smokes.
The last thing I wanted to do was enter the house with him and be cut off from Paul. My mind quickly worked on how I could get some matches.
I put my hand into my pocket and found the white Bic lighter. It was a Godsend.
“Here you go,” I said, and gave it to him.
He said, “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” His voice was threatening and accusatory.
It was also a very strange statement, so I just said, “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, Emond.”
I locked the door and walked away, leaving him standing on the front porch. I got into my car. As I pulled out of the driveway, I watched Emond sit down. A sudden, heavy downpour came and drenched him. It was surreal.
Rubbish Bin
The problem was, I had to return to get changed that night, and so after I met up with my friends, we all went back to my home. I figured that if Emond was waiting there, he would not do anything.
Now comes the most curious part of the story. The lighter comment had been floating around in my mind since he made it. I had started to piece together what might have happened.
I checked the kitchen rubbish bin and sure enough, I found an identical white Bic lighter. In fact, it was so identical that the exact same amount of lighter fluid had been used.
I figured that Emond had gone inside to throw his lighter into the bin or had unlocked the backdoor so he could get in later.
It was clear his intention was to trick me into being alone with him in the house and be at his mercy.
I put the lighter in a prominent place; and to stop it from being thrown away, I put a note underneath it which read: “Emond’s lighter.”
We then left for dinner.
Anxiety
All through the evening, I felt extreme anxiety and a sense of great danger.
Somehow, I knew Emond had returned to the house and was waiting for me. Then suddenly, at around 11 o’clock, I felt that sense of anxiety ease, like an elastic band was being released, and I knew he had left.
After what was otherwise a pleasant evening, we left the restaurant. I didn’t feel that I would be safe that night at my place. At the very least, I doubted I would sleep well. I fully expected to find something odd when I got home.
I said to my friend, Yas, that I wanted to check out my house before I took her home. When I got there, I saw the garage light globe had been removed.
I chose to sleep on the couch at Yas’s house that night, and I did not return until the next afternoon. I spent the day at Paul’s house and rang up my mother and stepfather to tell them what happened.
Ransacked.
They were home by the time I returned. They met me and said I’d better check out my room.
It had been ransacked, or at least an attempt had been made to make it look like it had. In fact, all that had been taken was $400.00 in dollar coins, which I had been stacking on the dresser table for some reason.
The other thing of note was that my fly screen had been clearly slashed with a knife from the inside.
The most important thing missing, though, was the lighter. Of all the things someone was going to steal, it was very unlikely that it would be a lighter. For me, that was very strong evidence that Emond had indeed broken into the house and was waiting for me to come home.
He was clearly armed, and I believe he intended to kill me.
Proof
That lighter probably saved me a world of hurt and also gave the proof that was needed that it was him. Despite this, the police did not or would not do anything.
He did return the next day. The police were called, and he was told to never return. To the best of my knowledge, he never did.
This was the first of the attacks, but certainly not the last. The step side of my family became increasingly hostile towards me, regardless of how decent I was to them.
But those are stories for another time.