In Perdition, Seeking Absolution

WARNING:

THE FOLLOWING TRUE STORY CONTAINS SENSITIVE SUBJECTS.

Alcoholism, Politics, Pornography, Abuse, Suicide, and Exorcism.

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Jay and Sylvia had been married for thirty-seven years. Their marriage had been filled with love, romance, travel, and children. In November, one month before their upcoming anniversary, changes in Jay created a life that Sylvia was unprepared for or even thought was possible.

The children were grown and even though they had each come back into the home, at least one time, they were living in other states now and Jay and Sylvia finally reached the time when they would retire. Their birthdays were only four days apart, in the same year, and they were sixty-two and ready for a new phase to begin.

For Sylvia, it was the anticipation of being with Jay, traveling and loving each other, the way they had planned. There was plenty of time, and they were still young enough to enjoy themselves. Sylvia had often said, “The simple reality, of being with one person for so many years, is the intimacy of falling in love over and over again.” This was exactly how Sylvia saw the rest of her life.

Jay loved Sylvia, but the alcohol and politics had taken a firm hold of the back of Jay’s neck, in the same way a mother dog carries her babies, by the scruff. Alcohol had always been a problem for Jay, but now it had evolved into a redundant taskmaster. Jay had waited his entire life for the time when he could drink as much as he wanted, and the children would not see, and Sylvia was the one person, in Jay’s life, who was not a filter for any of Jay’s bigotry, racism, or political views that were only seen when Jay drank.

Years earlier, Jay had gotten a DUI, while working on business, driving a rental car, in California. Sylvia had to dance around those eggshells to distract Dawn and Tatum from knowing and to find the $35,000 to pay all the expenses. This was Sylvia’s job and had been to keep Jay from hurting himself, when he was in a drunken stupor, to bail him out of trouble, and never let the kids know.

Jay and Sylvia had moved to Texas just seven short months ago, from Florida. Jay had been placed on permanent teleworking, so they had decided he should ask his employer if they could move onto the home they would eventually retire to, in Texas. Jay would keep working, and the company agreed to this. Jay had a high-profile job as a civilian military contractor, working on the most technically advanced helicopters and airplanes in the world. He would have meetings with the Pentagon, from his computer, at home.

Sylvia and Jay were so happy to move back to Texas. Sylvia was not working but was arranging the home, beautifully, and setting up house for the two of them. The real problems had started in Florida and had only gotten worse when they moved to Texas. The problem was Jay’s political views and alcohol combined. Stir in a little government knowledge and some hard-core news, along with a cell phone, and some pornography, and Jay was lit like a rocket.

Sylvia had created a relaxing place for the two of them and Jay cozied up with politics and abuse of Sylvia. He was spending enormous amounts of money on weapons and ammunition. Going to the gun range, when he wasn’t working, honing his skills for the doomsday machine he was building. This machine required food, that had a twenty-five-year shelf life, and a plan to incinerate the house and set up stations to defend their home, when the government came to take it away.

Jay was eye-level deep in conspiracy theories, and every night, at 9:00 pm, he became the Monster Jay. He was addicted to porn and addicted to politics, and he bashed Sylvia for not being upset about what was going on in the world. He was also upset because he would sneak away drunk and Sylvia would find him watching porn, and performing sex acts, alone, and this infuriated him, that she found him and accused him the rest of the time, because it happened so often.

So, when November came, and the elections were held, he went ballistic. He was abusing Sylvia every single night, to the point that he was threatening her, by placing a gun to her head, telling her, “Tonight you are going to die, Sylvia. Don’t go to sleep!”.

In January, Sylvia was diagnosed with PTSD. She was given multiple medications. She did not sleep and she would be angry at him all the daylight hours, but he would walk around sad with his head hanging down, trying to remember what exactly he had done. He said he had no idea. His drunkenness was to the point of blackouts, every night. He would fall and pass out and get up and drink again. Every day at 5:00 pm, he said he was sorry, even though he always finished with “for whatever it was I did”.

When May came around, and spring was in full bloom, Sylvia was hinting to everyone she knew that her life was absolutely in shambles and someone needed to help her rescue their lives from this horrible situation. No one believed it, because they did not see it for themselves. Even though they recognized enough, they just couldn’t wrap their brains around this, when what they had always seen was a loving, respectful, relationship that they envied.

On May 17, the neighbors overheard what was unmistakable abuse of Sylvia. There were calls placed to the police department, using unwritten words saying the music was too loud, not that Sylvia was being abused. The police came and would not or, as they said, could not, take Jay away. They made Sylvia allow him back into the house. It did not matter that she begged them and she pleaded with them that he would kill her.

Sylvia walked straight through the house to the patio and Jay proceeded to take his anger out, thinking that Sylvia had called the police on him, and the government, the establishment itself, had come for him. He was so drunk he could not stand without leaning on something. He could not speak other than repeat short phrase sentences. He started breaking everything as he headed towards the patio. Sylvia could hear the damage getting closer.

He came to the door and told Sylvia, “This is the night you die”. He went back inside. Sylvia, without even realizing it, was on the phone with 911. They said to her, “But the officers are in front of your house”. The total time that elapsed from Sylvia closing the door, while the officers returned to their cars, Sylvia walking to the patio, the breakage, and the threats, until the moment he pointed his Glock 9mm at the side of his head, pulling the trigger and killing himself was forty-five seconds. His drunken mind made him forget that he was coming for Sylvia.

In the months that followed, Sylvia was so angry at Jay. Her grief brought her down avenues she would never have believed she would visit. She had loved Jay, really loved Jay, and now after thirty-eight years, the last thing he said to her was that he was going to kill her. No, goodbyes. No, I loved you. No anything except violence and bad behavior.

The periods of grief manifested themselves in many ways, and Sylvia just attributed it all to nothing more than grief. She had read many books and had been a nurse, and she knew about grief. But, the things that were happening, were not just grief. Manifestations of Jay were appearing. Objects were moving off tables, randomly. Sylvia would go from complete calm to full-on anger in seconds. She could feel him touching her when she went to sleep at night.

Orbs of red would appear in her bedroom, at night. As they floated around the room, Sylvia screamed, “Go away, and go to Hell, where you belong!” Sylvia could hear his voice in her closet, and when she took a bath. It was overwhelming, to the point that Sylvia was considering suicide, herself. He was telling her to come where he was.

Sylvia searched for a medium to help her rid him from her home, where she stayed, where he had died, while she was on the patio, that night. She had not gone into the room and seen him there, but she knew exactly where his spirit was. Perdition. That is where he was.

Sylvia performed two rituals. One was a bath ritual which only temporarily diminished the episodes. So, Sylvia insisted on a full-on exorcism of Jay, from her home. She gathered the supplies, and her friend, Tamara, came over, as they had prepared. At the exact time of night, 10:14 pm, and almost exactly one year to the day, Tamara began a biblical exorcism, and Sylvia began a spell-casting exorcism, that only gave Jay, two options.

GO INTO THE JAR OR GO TO HELL!

The air was electrified and the open window was his only escape. Sylvia felt this as he left, where she stood outside of the window. After the ritual, Sylvia then buried the jar in the garden, with three things that he loved, and a letter, inside. Sylvia placed the meteorite that he had found while serving in Afghanistan. Also in the jar was a small heart with a compass, that he carried in his pocket, every single day, for fifteen years, after Sylvia had given it to him, with the engraved words saying, “My heart will guide you home”. Thirdly, there was a small picture of their dog. The last element was a note on a tiny piece of paper. The letter read:

To Jay:          The Love of my life

                      My loving husband,

                      A wonderful father,

                     My best friend.

                       I loved you and I love you now.

                       I’ll always love you,

                       but you must let me be happy.

                      Go and know –

                       They will never be you.

                       It is time for you to leave.

                       It is time for me to have a life,

                       and a love, to carry me on.

                       Goodbye, Sweetie

Sylvia caught the paper on fire, dropped it inside, and closed the lid of the jar around it, before placing it into the ground and covering it with rocks that the two of them had collected everywhere they went. Jay was gone. At the same time, a new stage of grief appeared to Sylvia. She began to forget all the pain and horror that he had caused. Sylvia loved Jay, again. She cried that he had died and that they were not together.

Then, months later, each night for three nights, in succession, right when Sylvia laid down in bed, Jay would come to her. It was a dreamlike experience, but it was so real that she could smell Jay. She could feel him touching her. And on the third night, he said to Sylvia, “I am sober now, I get it. Please forgive me. I wish I had not left”.

Jay was in perdition, seeking absolution. One day, Sylvia will find out for herself, whether his absolution took him from perdition to heaven, or not.

Not right now, though. Sylvia is writing to allay grief.