Below is the series of events (divided into two parts) which took place around the possession:
Part one: The Possession
10:00 PM
I scrape off the old, dorky-looking eye decals (with a craft exacto knife) from the Noix de Rome elf head (
http://www.noix.co.jp/ ) I rooted a year earlier, with the intent of giving it a unique, custom paint-job. I cleaned the area with rubbing alcohol, and penciled on one eye and eyebrow.
I was unsuccessful at mirroring it for the other side of the face, so I asked my mom to help me (moms are great!).
I then began painting the head using toothpicks, as they were more suited to the task than paintbrushes.
10:30 PM
I am almost finished the job.
The elf now has thin, almond-shaped eyes. One is canary-yellow, the other is scarlet red.
Looking at the eyes begins to make me feel uneasy.
11:00 PM
I add details to the eyes; pupils, highlights. Also, I add a watered-down gray as shading around the eyes, and add a touch of black to accent the slit of the mouth.
Looking at the doll's face gives me severe 'danger' prickles in the back of my neck.
I scold myself for being creeped-out, then tell myself that it's all in my head, and I should be very ashamed for being afraid of a silly chunk of vinyl.
11:30 PM
Finished the face.
I now have a strange, icy feeling from where I was touching the doll head.
Put it down on the work table, and sat on the couch (five feet away) to catch a comedy program on TV.
12:00 AM
I notice a soft, mechanical breathing (unlike anything I've heard before) coming from the direction of my work area.
Sharp terror-chills are pricking the back of my neck. If you've ever been followed by a really scary person, this is how it felt, only magnified.
I try to settle myself, but failing at that, I pick up the doll head and get sharp, cold chills down my forearm.
I notice the breathing is coming from within the doll head, as I suspected.
Being seriously creeped-out, I place the doll head face-down on the table, and go back to my TV watching.
I can no longer hear the breathing, and the terror-chills calm down a bit.
1:00 AM
The terror-chills increase to an unbearable level. All I can hear is my own heartbeat pounding rapidly in my head, and all I can feel is the prickling, icy sensation all over my skin. I am suffering too much shock to act for several minutes, and nothing I can tell myself will calm my nerves.
With a desperate solution, I race over to the worktable, grab the doll head (my hand becomes tense with the icy prickle), and I pick up the knife I had use to scrape off the eye decals.
I manage to quickly scrape off the painted eyes. Almost instantly, I feel the terror-chills calming down.
I return to the couch to rest and calm my nerves.
Several minutes later, I experience an apparition which I will not repeat in words, due to the fact that I wish not to relive it in my mind.
I will sum it up by saying that it left me curled up on the couch, hyperventilating for at least an hour.
There were no other occurrences that night.
Part Two: The Exorcism (somewhat)
Monday, at School:
Block 2:
The topic of ghosts and other spooky occurrences come up during conversation during my spare, and I tell my friends about what happened with the doll head on the weekend.
I ask around for somewhat who's had experience with this sort of thing, and the lovely Mitra agrees to take a look at the doll head.
That Evening, at home:
I toss the doll head into a small, clear plastic bag, and add Solomon's triangle (used to bind evil spirits) into the bag as well. It seems to help, but I still get nauseated from holding the doll head.
Into my backpack it goes.
Tuesday, at School:
Lunch hour:
I show around the doll head. I gotta admit it; possessed things are kinda cool.
Some report the upsetting feeling of deep nausea from handling it, even in the bag with the triangle.
Talking with one girl, as she handles the doll head (looking a little pale), I jokingly say; "Well, at least it's stopped breathing." She holds it to her ear, and asks me in a serious tone of voice; "Are you sure about that?"
A boy then takes the doll in it's bag, and twists the opening shut, "NOW it'll stop breathing!" We all have a good laugh.
Mitra examines the doll head. I'm very anxious to get a diagnostic from someone more experienced than myself.
"[The spirit's] mostly gone," she says.
"Will I still be able to use the head? It's so cute and I put a lot of effort into it..." I say, hopefully.
"It's tainted. You can never use it," she responds, telling me that someone of our caliber cannot properly cleanse the doll head.
Block 3:
Art class. I had brought my camera to school, and decided to take the opportunity to snap a couple shots of the doll head, in the morbid hope that I might catch something cool and creepy on film
That evening, at home:
I become aware of an overwhelming sense of nausea from being in the same room as the doll head.
I really want to hold onto it, because it's such a novelty, but I don't feel safe with it around, and I want it out of my house.