Ever since I was little I had a strong disbelief of psychics. I thought that they were con artists with odd accents and fake magic cards. Little did I know that I was a psychic. I did believe in ghosts at the time. I still do.
One time in my home, I was resting in bed. It was a school night. In the room diagonal from me was my mom's laundry room. She was in there doing laundry (of course.) I could see her and she could see me. She wasn't really paying attention. I was in second grade at the time.
I laid down thinking until I felt enormous pressure on my legs and waist, as if some thing was walking over them. Same thing with my upper body a few seconds later.
I tried to move. I tried to scream. My body no longer worked for me. Something was trying to use me as a host, to use my body as its own. Even though I was only in the second grade, I easily was able to fend it off without even trying.
Many psychics have believed that I have an enormous amount of ability. I decided," Oh they say that to everyone to make money." Apparently I was wrong.
I never was the type of person to meditate. I could never find the time. Henceforth, I am not in full control of my ability.
My mom owns a restaurant. It used to be an antique shop. There's something in it. It's not a spirit, its beyond that.
So far, no other psychics have been able to see it, other than the previous shop owner, who recently has gone missing. His name is Genty Paoli. He is from Germany. It's not his German name. It's his American one. This thing that I see is not a human or a creature spirit.
If anyone can tell me anything about this spirit or myself, please e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org I think I may be an empath. It's like I absorb the pain and rage of the odd being at the restaurant. That's the main reason it's so calm. Before an empathy was there the thing always broke antiques.
If you can help then email me. Bye.