6/23/17

The astral rift

Photo by Alexis Fauvet on Unsplash

After a day of moping, justifiably, about his father, August appeared in my office ready to take another crack at reaching Evelyn. We read his tarot early and drew The Chariot. August was so excited he glowed. It's kinda cute when he glows, actually, but If I call him Casper he makes my office so cold I can’t type.

Anyway, The Chariot, strength, determination, and triumph. August decided it was sign to hold a seance himself. They drain him, so we don’t perform them often. We sat crosslegged facing each other on the floor of the office. Between us, I put a candle and a crystal ball. August says they don’t do anything, it’s just ambiance. I can’t really hold August’s hands, but I try. It’s like sticking your hands in a freezer. If you’re cold, you know you’re in the right spot. Then I just have to keep them there for as long as I can.

A seance with a ghost is nothing like a seance with the living. With the living you get a sense of spirits around you. You feel the cold, you sometimes feel their oppressive presence. And you hear things, knocking, rustling, shuffling, nothing big. It’s just bored ghosts like August messing with you. I’ve never heard a voice during a human seance. August says it’s not possible for a ghost to talk to a living person they aren’t connected to, but he’s fuzzy on the means facilitating that connection. Basically, the spirit activity in a seance is peripheral for most living. Those who are extra sensitive can sometimes see faint impressions of the ghosts, but that’s about it.

With a ghost a seance is different. Because August and I exchange energy when we’re near each other, he can see what I see and I can see what he sees.

August begins by opening up a rift to the astral plane. The living can’t do this. They think they can, but what they’re doing is sending energy out to surrounding spirits on our plane and drawing them in to feed, which can have an euphoric effect. Giving them too much of your energy can result in fatigue, headache, and hallucinations. Remember when I said August feeds on the sparrows in the back yard? Yeah, that’s so he doesn't kill me from syphoning my energy.

A rift to the astral plane is a terrifying thing to see. First of all, it’s black, the blackest black you’ve ever seen slashing through your reality. If you stare at it for too long, your mind starts to go black, too. The inky edges being to seep inward and devour your thoughts. Once the rift is inside _and_ outside your mind, you implode, or so August says. And also, it’s quiet. Not a sound escapes from the other side. If you listen too long, all sound starts to disappear from inside your head, too. The silence and the black creep in around you. Once the rift is closed, it takes days to recover. To counteract this danger, I don’t look at the rift for long periods. And I wear earbuds with music I like to make sure the silence doesn’t take over my mind.

August calls into the rift, seeking aid. Sometimes he isn’t answered. This morning he wasn’t. A small creature, like a blackbird but with arms where its wings should have been and a saber strapped across its breast was all we saw as it pecked at the rift hole. August is determined to try again every day until he finds someone who can help. I don’t know where he’s going to find that many sparrows.