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his head in black. A white circle went around the edges of where his face must be, and a white cross went through the middle of that. The sign of the zodiac. On the street below, I could hear him start to laugh. “Accept your inheritance and come forward. Don’t you want to play? It’s not over until I say it is.”
    * * *
    I lay in bed, safe in my own house, wondering what awaited me today. I had not recovered from yesterday’s train ride to hell, and I knew it wouldn’t be my last contact with that horrible tall man in black. Traveling through different dimensions was as easy for me as walking to the drugstore, but I’d always been able to control that pathway before. I had built it, after all, and I thought it was mine to travel according to my own will. Now I was being shown otherwise.
    I knew what was happening to me. I was no stranger to the signs of possession. Lost souls had always lived alongside me. But now this one was within me. I was being pursued and taken over. I was getting beaten up from within. Two souls cannot share one body for more than a short period of time. If they do, the person whose body it is can be irreparably harmed. It can cause severe psychiatric problems like split personality or psychosis.
    Just how long can the human body keep this up?
I asked myself. A voice I did not recognize answered me.
    â€œFor as long as we want.”
    I laughed. There was little else I could do. There were now squatters sharing my soul.
    I did not know how much time passed, but the voices quieted, and then my two cats were with me, affectionately rubbing my face. I closed my eyes and felt the vibration of their purring. Such a normal experience. A wonderful, beautifully normal experience. I filled with joy as I tossed back the covers and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I told myself in the mirror how wonderful it was to be back in my own body with my own thoughts.
    I followed my girls to the kitchen, where they demanded breakfast. I poured bowls of their favorite food and fresh water and then put on the coffee for myself. I hummed as I got my favorite stained and chipped cup out of the cabinet. I loved this old cup. Older is always better. I have learned the hard way that you can’t wash history away. Better to accept it—stains, chips, and all.
    I still had trouble believing that this perfect normalness was real. I couldn’t resist peeking over my shoulder as I poured my first cup. I blew the steam off the top and leaned against the counter, smiling as my two girls devoured their food. Then a cold breeze slipped by me like a thief trying to sneak in unnoticed. The air in front of me bent into a crooked wave. The cats began to hiss and fight, which they never did. Then they ran for cover as the sound of knocking came from the front door.
    The first one was gentle, as if a child were on the other side. I moved cautiously toward the door, which was solid oak in a reinforced frame. The next knock was a ringing clap, the sound of a sledgehammer hitting metal. I thought the door would shatter as I crept closer and looked through the peephole.
    An older lady stood smiling at me. “Good morning, dear,” she said in a sweet voice.
    â€œPlease go away,” I said, shaking and sweating on the other side of the door.
    â€œI’m spreading the word of God, you know. He knows you’re in need.”
    I looked through the peephole again and she met me there, her eye looking right back at mine. “Jesus loves you, oh yes, he does.”
    Tears rolled down my face. How I needed to hear those words. I managed to ask her name.
    â€œWhy, my name is Sally,” she said. “I just want to give you this pamphlet. It may just save you. He sent me right to your door.” She shook the paper at me, knowing I was still watching behind the door. “My child, I have more to fear than you—a little ole gal like myself spreading the Good Word.”
    I