When I was 8 years old I remember moving into a trailer that had just been vacated by a former pastor and his wife. In this trailor I felt scared all the time. I would dread going home everyday.

That first night I was sleeping on a bunkbed. I woke up in the middle of the night. I tried to fall back asleep but couldn't. So laying there looking at the rooms ceiling, the walls then the floor, I felt a warm breath on my ear. It was the most hideous laugh. I was paralyzed in fear. The devil was laughing at me. I don't remember anything after that night, but, I would always remember that.

Well, a few days later my mother was in the kitchen singing hymns. I would sit at the kitchen table doing my homework and listen to her sing, it was peaceful. Then my father walked in, drunk. He would look fine when he walked in, but minutes later his eyes would turn red with anger. For no reason, my father went to hit my mother and she hollered "JESUS!". In that very moment my father was hit in the stomach by unseen hands and flew all the way down the hall to the back wall and slumped paralyzed for 15 minutes.

I would have dreams of big earthquakes there but, when I woke up the next morning it was a dream. I learned that the former pastor and his wife started drinking in that trailer and the devil lived there. It was a constant battle between God and the Devil. I don't remember exactly how we left and moved out of there because that part of my life is forgotten. I believe we were held in Gods hands there because none of my other brothers and sisters remember how we left there. My brother saw angels in the corners of our rooms.