13

The Next Step

Up until this point, all of Norman’s violent, human-based attacks were directed toward me. Three years of walking on eggshells around a haunted doll we were guilty of welcoming into our home.

History had taught me that Norman does not like male figures. So it was never a concern of ours that Christina and Hannah would ever find themselves on the receiving end of a Norman fit.

Christina and Hannah certainly had their fill from the haunted department. But Christina was about to feel the wrath of Norman, and I believe he intended to get at me through her. It is like when a kidnapper holds a person hostage for leverage. They are doing it to gain something in trade from somebody else. I think Norman resorted to going beyond his typical attacks and went straight for what mattered the most to me. The thing that matters the most to me is my wife, Christina.

That day in August was more alarming to me than any time in the past I had been hospitalized. As frightening as those times were, the reality of my wife getting hurt completely dwarfed any concerns I had for myself.

Christina and I left our house that day to continue work on our cabin. We had not made any more progress on the cabin since we locked Norman away in there, so we were a little behind in our construction. But it was nice to have a quiet and safe home while Norman was gone. We definitely had missed that normal feeling.

That day, we had planned to begin work on adding electricity to the building. Before we could put up any sheet rock on the walls, the electrical outlets and wires needed to be run throughout. I had the main structure with a door and windows and a set of stairs, but nothing else had been completed yet.

We arrived at the cabin around lunchtime that day.

The first thing I did was go up to the loft I had stored Norman in. I wanted to check and see if anything was out of place. Everything was fine and just how I had left it. All that was in the building were boxes we had stored there from the house and some construction supplies.

Christina and I knew he would be returning home with us that day once we left. We had talked a great deal on the way to the cabin about ridding ourselves of him. We were still unsure as to what to do with him, but our focus on that would meet a roadblock soon enough.

There were two lofts in the cabin. One had steps to it while the other did not. Christina was working at the top of the loft with steps, sweeping construction debris. I was on the first floor moving boxes around and measuring cable to run through the cabin.

I glanced over at the suitcase Norman was in. I had placed it on a table we had brought in. I guess curiosity got the better of me. I had yet to actually look inside to make sure the doll was even still in there. It’s silly to think that somehow the doll could manage to open the case from the inside and get out. But nothing was really beyond the realm of believability at that point concerning him. I stopped what I was doing and walked over to the table where he was resting.

I grabbed the case and unlatched both locks. As soon as I opened the case, I heard a loud and heavy tumble of sorts from around the corner from where I was standing. It sounded like a sack of potatoes had plummeted to the floor. Whatever hit the floor had enough force to cause a vibration that I could feel.

Norman was still in his case, resting exactly how I had left him. You would think I would be used to it by now, but that little, minacious grin spoke words without saying a thing. As I glanced at him, I just knew I was about to find something bad around that corner of the cabin.

I yelled out to Christina and asked her if she heard that sound and what was it. She never responded. I yelled her name again. Nothing but silence surrounded the cabin. In a panic, I closed up his case and ran around the corner to see what, exactly, made the loud boom.

I almost vomited when I rounded the corner to see Christina laying on the floor. She was flat on her back and unconscious. You can imagine that my first thoughts were not good. I honestly thought I came around that corner to find her dead. She was lifeless.

As I quickly approached her, I noticed her chest moving up and down ever so softly. She was still alive. I knelt down beside her and started saying her name over and over again. I glanced around the area, looking for blood or anything to help me figure out the severity of the situation.

I looked up the stairs as she was laying at the bottom. I had no choice but to believe she had fallen down them. I saw nothing immediately that would have explained her fall, and she wasn’t speaking to help me out in that department. A few moments passed, and her eyes slowly began to open. She was disoriented.

I placed my arms underneath her shoulders to help lift her up. She immediately screamed in total agony. Something was seriously wrong. Christina asked me what had just happened, and I had no idea. I told her I was in the other room looking in on Norman when I heard the fall.

She could not move, and I was worried she had hurt something terribly. Awful thoughts raced through my brain as I feared she was paralyzed.

Christina was in tears. I can count on one hand the times in over ten years I had ever seen her cry. It takes a lot to bring her to tears. She was in some serious pain as she complained to me about her lower back and asked me to call for help. That was a bold statement from Christina. She never asks for help. She is always tough as nails to a fault. I knew by her asking me to call for help that she must have believed herself to be seriously hurt.

I made the call to 911 emergency services.

After about fifteen minutes, the ambulance arrived. She was taken to New Hanover Regional Medical Center in Wilmington, North Carolina. I followed along behind her, biting at the bit to find out if she was going to be alright or if this accident was going to cause more-permanent damage.

I also heavily pondered the idea that what happened was not an accident. What were the chances of her falling down that flight of steps at the exact moment I opened up the case to reveal Norman? I was thinking all sorts of crazy things. What if Christina falling was the doll seeking revenge?

Upon arrival, they immediately took her back through the emergency room. The staff wasted no time ordering up and carrying out a CAT scan, x-rays, and other tests to determine the severity of her fall.

After a few hours, all of the tests came back normal. Luckily for us, she did not have any broken bones or permanent damage. She did, however, have a torn muscle in her lower back.

Just like the times before that involved me, the doctor could not find anything seriously wrong with Christina. She was ordered by the doctor to stay in bed until it healed. Frankly, she had no choice. The pain was so excruciating, she could barely move. Christina described it to me like getting stabbed in the back with a butcher knife every time she attempted to move.

The nurses and doctor monitored her for a few more hours before finally discharging her.

On the way home, she and I discussed in better detail what had taken place at the cabin. This wasn’t a conversation we were going to have at the hospital considering all of the eyes and ears around us. Now, with a clear head and all of the excitement over, Christina could finally confide those moments before she took a dive down the stairs in the cabin.

She told me she had been sweeping at the top of the steps, cleaning up sawdust. She had stopped for a moment to look down the stairs and around our cabin. Christina said she was daydreaming about how it was all going to look when it was said and done.

Then she felt as if she wasn’t alone up in the loft. She had an overwhelming feeling come over her. It was that feeling you get when you just know somebody is standing behind you. At first, she thought that I had somehow snuck up the steps and was about to pull a prank on her. Christina turned around, expecting to catch me in mid-prank. Instead, she said the entire room went black and she passed out. The next thing she remembered was me crouched down over top of her screaming her name.

I couldn’t help but be reminded of when I blacked out and woke up to being rushed to the hospital. This was all too real and all too familiar to us.

I looked at her as we approached our house and asked if she was thinking the same thing I was.

Christina did not have to really say it. I knew she was thinking that doll shoved her down the steps in some way. Certainly there were other, more believable reasons she could have fallen, but nothing was going to change our minds. Her blackout was unexplained at the hospital, and the only advice given was to keep an eye on it. How the hell do you keep an eye on blacking out? I never did understand that one.

The intrigue and excitement concerning Norman was now gone between the both of us. There was no limitation to him anymore. I don’t think there ever really was. Here we were again, victims of yet another one of his dangerous schemes. It was evident that whatever was residing in Norman was spiteful, hateful, and seeking out some sort of revenge. He is methodical, intelligent and very aware of his surroundings. I have never witnessed such a powerful and dark spirit before.

As we drove, I told Christina how bad I felt about the entire thing. My stomach had been in knots. The thought of losing her killed me a little inside. I felt impotent. There was nothing I could do for Christina. Only time was going to heal her wounds. And I’m not certain that some psychological wounds can even be healed.

So now Norman was going after more than just me, and that certainly changed the way I thought about our ongoing research with him. Something was going to have to change. When was enough going to be enough?

Sure, we started this with the betterment of paranormal research in mind. I mean, who wouldn’t if they were in our place? We as researchers work hard every day for years on end just for a glimpse into the afterlife. When the afterlife crash-lands smack dab in the middle of your own home, you can’t help but be grateful for a moment. But all things come to an end eventually. We started this curious and with sincere intentions. But the years of torment have weighed heavy on us.

That night, I made Christina as comfortable as possible in our bed. But the strangeness that came with Norman wasn’t done coming.

Christina and I were both on the bed relaxing and watching television. The room was dark, and everything had appeared to calm down for the night. The illumination from the television was the only light in the room. Everything was composed and reposeful for the most part, considering the great amount of pain she was in. Typically, when Norman acts out on a grand scale, there is breathing room left afterward. But this time he wanted to be sure we knew he was still waiting and watching. It’s like he wanted to whisper to us, “I’m always here.”

The really crazy thing was the fact that Norman was nowhere even close by. Having been caught up in all of the excitement of Christina’s fall and the hospital, we never did return to the cabin for Norman. He was still there. If anything was a testament to his control, reach, and power, it was what happened next.

We were watching television when Christina jerked her leg in a panicked fashion. Of course, my attention went immediately to her. At first, I thought maybe it was just a twitch or something related to her fall, but it wasn’t. Christina had a really surprised look on her face. She looked at me and said something just tickled her foot.

Logical thinking came over me at that moment. Our dogs are always rubbing themselves on us, so that was naturally my first thought. Or maybe I just didn’t want to believe it was Norman. He wasn’t around, so he was out of sight and out of mind. I jumped up from the bed to take a look around the room, thinking that maybe one of our dogs brushed up against her foot.

There was nothing. All of the dogs were lying out in the living room, asleep. Christina and I were the only living things in the bedroom. We both knew that Norman was miles away, locked up in the cabin, but was he really miles away?

Christina was authentically spooked. She told me that the tickle felt exactly like somebody taking a single finger and slowly brushing it down the bottom of her foot. I kept looking around the room, and there simply wasn’t anything to have justified the cause. I even asked Christina if it were possible that an insect could have landed on her foot. She said no. The feeling of an insect is undeniable; this was something else. Christina and I both knew that something paranormal had been the cause. I think at this point, we were just hoping for something normal to be to blame.

I walked into our bathroom while Christina remained on the bed. There’s no real way to put it other than I had to urinate. But I have to tell you that because that is what I was doing when the next fantastical occurrence took place. Somehow, Norman was still able to affect us. He was still able to haunt our house without even being present.

I was in the middle of using the bathroom when all of a sudden, from behind me, I felt my shirt being pulled. I instantly stopped urinating and turned around, completely expecting either Christina to be standing there or one of the dogs.

You can think about a lot in just a second. The pull on my shirt was so real and so convincing, that in my mind, I just knew it had to be something of flesh and blood doing it. I was wrong. I yelled out, “What in the world?”

Christina asked what I was going on about, and I told her. She was still firmly on the bed and no dogs had come out of our living room and into the bedroom. I was alone in that bathroom when something pulled down on the lower part of my shirt. Everybody knows that feeling when a person tugs on your clothing. This felt exactly like that.

Considering the nature of the pull, I believed a young child or a dog was the culprit. No young children were there, so it just had to be one of our dogs.

Like I said, I expected to turn around and see at least Tank tugging on me with his mouth because he needed to go outside or something. This just wasn’t the case. Within ten minutes of each other, Christina had been tickled and I had my shirt tugged by something we could not see or find. This was incredible.

Sure, we have witnessed objects moving, been the victims of physical attacks, and seen Norman do things that defy physics. But, when something subtle happens behind a mask of playfulness, a new level of fear arises. I think it is scarier to know that he could have done harm but instead didn’t. It was almost as if the spirit inside of Norman was saying, “You know what I am capable of, so here’s a little reminder that what just happened could have been entirely worse.”

The rest of the night went without incident but did not go without heavy pondering about the entire situation. I firmly believed that all of our time spent around Norman led to more of that spiritual magnetism I talked about before. But how long could it last? His actions were just another reason to believe he had no boundaries or very little limitations across the spiritual realm. He wasn’t confined to that doll, and that has to be the scariest part about the whole situation.

That train of thought made me think all the way back to when we first came into contact with him at that antique shop. His box had very visible scratch marks on it as if something was trying to get out. Inside, very bizarre rhymes were written in different handwriting alluding to his origin and intent. Was Norman actually happy in his locked box, or was he just waiting to be broken free so havoc could be wreaked? It was like Pandora had built that box herself and placed everything horrific inside the heart of that doll. We opened it and we got what we asked for—and then some.

Christina and I both agreed that we would no longer be taking one for the team so to speak. Three years’ worth of research into one of the most haunted objects I had ever seen was going to come to an end. Christina was also more than frustrated. If Norman’s attacks were now extending to more of the family, what would be next? How far could we possibly let this go before something irreversible happened? Christina agreed with me that it was time to get rid of the doll. We both agreed that it was time to move on from this chapter in our lives. We could not live like this anymore, and I was not going to stand for my wife to be in the direct line of danger.

Over the next week, Christina did exactly what the doctor ordered. She stayed in bed while I took care of her hand and foot. She bounced back, and we started to move on.

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