I have been exchanging messages back and forth with a young woman named Jenny. She has actually given me permission to use her own name and personal information, but due to my uncertainty about her mental status and credibility, I have opted to keep her information private. Jenny seems to be a very sweet and sincere young lady. She says she is 28 years old, unmarried, and has a 7 year old son I will call Danny. He appears to be a very handsome, bright child who is the light of her life.
Right now, she is frantic with worry and fear because of a paranormal affliction she has always had, but has recently mutated, bringing forth a galaxy of new horrors.
Here is my dilemma. If Jenny is telling me the truth, it is so horrifying that it seems that there is no help for her, from me, from any doctor or scientist, any religion or anyone in the world. Although she seems so sincere, I have had my leg pulled before. In the past, I have had a colorful variety of part time jobs. I have worked as a writer and reporter for a chain of tabloid newspapers, I have been a hypnotist’s assistant, and at one time, I owned and operated a singles club. People joined, sent me money, and I wrote a description of each one and sent out new lists periodically. (I didn’t even have a computer at that time – I had to use a typewriter with a little memory chip.)
I wasn’t making much money, and what little that came was used for expenses to keep the business going. One day I had a phone call from a gentleman who said his name was John Cusack, an actor. He told me it was difficult for him to meet nice women because of his celebrity status. He said many of his friends had the same problem, and that he would refer them. I never realized this was a prank. I gave him a free membership, and bragged to current members that we had a professional actor as a member. I’m sure “Mr. Cusack” enjoyed a good laugh at my expense. It was a long time ago, and I have learned how to become jaded, mistrustful, and unimpressed by any type of celebrity. I’m sure that if the Pope was in town, I would not be bothered to walk across the street to see him.
But I do like people, and I wish I knew how to help Jenny. I will continue with her hair-raising story.
Jenny was born to kind of a Gypsy-Cajun mother who was uneducated and believed in curses and spells and so on. Jenny’s mother told her she was born with a caul over her face, supposedly meaning she was a psychic, a witch, a fortune teller, or something along those lines. She forced Jenny to tell fortunes for money, so Jenny learned to make up things to tell people so she could avoid being punished by her mother.
Funny thing was that Jenny turned out to be pretty accurate in her fortune telling. Her reputation grew, and she began to develop quite a following. She was in her early teens now, and had just become a woman. One evening, Jenny did a reading for a woman from a nearby town. When she looked at the woman’s face, she saw a multitude of black spots moving like ants in front of the woman’s face. Horrified, Jenny blurted out, “Oh, my God! You have cancer! You’re going to die!”
After a beating she would never forget, Jenny never mentioned the black spots to anyone again. She saw them before her mother’s face a year later. Her mother went quickly, dying of old age at 40, the consequences of a rough life.
Jenny had no power to see the future for herself. She moved to a bigger city and found work as a filing clerk. She could wear nice clothes, work in a clean place, and considered herself to be a young professional woman with a bright future. However, like so many young and gullible women, she met a handsome man and got pregnant. He got out of town as soon as she told him the news.
Jenny had a very kind boss, who admired her youth and good looks. He was an older man who was divorced long ago and lived alone and lonesome. When he became aware of Jenny’s pregnancy, he offered to marry her and provide a home for she and the child. Jenny looked into his kind face and saw many black spots swarming around his whole face and head.
I have more to tell you of Jenny’s life and her story, but I must conclude this post. In my next post, I hope to have more messages from Jenny, and will relate this to you. Perhaps new information will reveal whether Jenny is suffering from a mental problem, telling a true but horrible tale, or just pulling my leg.
Thank you for reading. Good eve to you.