From Haunted To Healed

Maggie Montgomery had lived in the third-floor apartment for only a few months when she first noticed the shadows. San Francisco nights had their own ghostly feel to them, she thought—wind slipping down narrow alleys, fog blanketing the streets, and lights blinking through mist—but this was something different. Every night, without fail, seven shadow figures appeared in her apartment, filling the corners, hovering by the walls, or lurking just outside her view. At first, she tried to ignore them. She figured the city, or maybe just her mind, was playing tricks on her.

But they were always there. They crept into her dreams, too, making it impossible to sleep without nightmares. Even weirder was the fact that her apartment was always dark, even in the day. She had east-facing windows, and yet no matter how much sunlight streamed in, it always felt dark, like an old abandoned house with boarded up windows. The night brought even more darkness. No matter how many bright bulbs her landlord installed, they always appeared dim. They always flickered.

At her "work," she would sometimes catch a glimpse of them from the corner of her eye, their dark forms lingering as silent witnesses. Her clients never saw them, but they noticed the changes in her—her cold, clammy skin, the distant, empty stares, the apparent fear in her eyes, Maggie always being distracted… It didn't take long before the shadows became more than just visions. They became her constant companions. They started following her everywhere: on buses, through streets, motel rooms that she booked, even in crowded bars. They were always there. The Seven—as she called them—hovered silently, pressing around her like a storm from the deepest pits of Hell that she couldn't outrun.

She began feeling their weight on her shoulders, a strange pressure in her chest, as if they were seeping into her, one by one. She knew she was being haunted, maybe even hunted. People around her—even people who weren’t her clients, like her landlord—started noticing, too, sensing something strange in her distant stares, her distracted murmurs. And then, one night, the darkness took over completely. She woke up feeling hollow, yet filled with an unfamiliar, raging power. She found she had the surprising strength of twenty men. She was able to pick up her fridge and hurl it across the room. She levitated off the ground. She could move things with her mind and make lights flicker. No one could hold her down. A priest was called in but he fled soon enough, telling his assistants that they were finished there.

Maggie’s eyes became haunted with a darkness that wasn’t her own, and her thoughts twisted, darkened, as if the shadows were speaking to her, through her, urging her down a path she didn’t recognize. She spiraled quickly. Her life fell to pieces, and no one in her life could understand or reach her. Her landlord, fearing the loss of revenue from tenants leaving in droves, evicted her and kicked her to the curb. She knew she needed help but felt utterly alone—until she met Jesse Carpenter.

Jesse was a construction worker turned street preacher, known in the city for his quiet strength and warm, unassuming presence. His stepfather was a foreman with his own construction crew and Jesse grew up watching him work. At the young age of thirteen, he apprenticed under his stepfather.

He was only thirty, but his steady gaze held a wisdom that felt ancient, grounded. His rough hands, calloused from years of construction work, had warmth and tender compassion in them. The day they met, Jesse noticed Maggie shivering at the edge of a bustling street corner, eyes wide with dread. He didn’t ask her name or her story; he simply invited her to sit with him on a nearby park bench. His voice was calm, filled with an unexpected kindness. For the first time in months, Maggie felt her heart begin to slow.

Over the next few weeks, Jesse and his close group of friends became a constant, comforting presence in Maggie’s life. The shadows still lingered, still whispered to her, but with Jesse, they seemed weaker, less imposing. Jesse had a way of speaking that cut through the darkness, as if his words carried light. Maggie found herself opening up to him about the shadows and her past, confessing things she'd kept buried. Jesse listened, never flinching, treating her pain and her fears with deep compassion.

Then, one night, Jesse looked at her with a new intensity. He placed a hand on her shoulder and began to pray. It was no ordinary prayer, but one spoken with a quiet, commanding authority. His voice was calm yet powerful, and as he spoke, Maggie felt an energy around them—something warm, something strong.

“Margaret… Margaret Montgomery,” Jesse said, “Thus says the Lord who created you, o Jacob, He who formed you, o Israel, ‘Fear not for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name. You are mine.’”

The shadows writhed within her, pushing back, but Jesse’s words grew firmer, stronger, a force they couldn’t resist. Maggie felt them break away, pulled out of her like shards of glass. Suddenly, there was light in the darkness all around her. They melted like the last snow of winter under the warm promise of a spring sun.

With the shadows finally gone, Maggie’s mind cleared, her heart lighter than it had been in years. She felt new, reborn, as if she'd been freed from chains she hadn’t realized she was wearing. She wept with relief, and Jesse simply held her, no questions, no judgment, just understanding.

Jesse's twelve closest friends became her family, guiding her with wisdom, humor, and support, even Jude, who would later betray them. They showed her a path she’d never considered, a way of living that had nothing to do with fear or darkness. And as she learned from them, Maggie found herself wanting to help others break free from their own shadows, passing on the compassion and light she had found.

Though her journey began in darkness and shadows, Maggie emerged as someone who carried light herself, reflecting the kindness and strength Jesse had shown her. She saw herself as a new person, no longer haunted, but healed, and she dedicated herself to walking alongside those who, like her, had once been lost.