Six is original, mind-bending, and based on true events. I can say this because I both lived and witnessed the history chronicled in these pages.

Here is the introduction to the hauntings which you will find in the book, Six.

As I sat to pen this story, I was forced to recall so many memories of youth. There were the smells of summer, so strong and present that even now, given the right mixture, I could be catapulted back in time and allowed to relive moments from a lifetime ago: pears, wild and disfigured which had fallen from trees, and bees so thick you wouldn’t dare approach the sweet, soft fruit that had fallen. Cut grass, the sound of wood snapping as you climbed in a tree, and the sap that stuck to your fingers after you climbed right back up, vowing this time the tree wouldn’t buck you from its branches. I recall the smell of Hamburger Helper, of an ice cream shop my dad would take the baseball team to after games, even when we lost. I remember the smell of the earth, how it dug its way into the spaces between my fingerprints and remained rooted there unchanged, despite the number of times I’d aggressively wash my hands, as if some powerful spell was within the soil from a time before man. But there are other memories too, ones that, despite the good, bring me fear and pain.

I remember bruises painting my skin in various shades of yellow, blue, and purple. I recall the countless raspberries, the scrapes, the cuts that seemed to burn so intensely that even the memory of the events draws my eyes to the exact location upon my flesh, noting the subtle scar imprinted for a lifetime. I recall the fear I had as a boy when unspeakable terrors continuously found me. I still feel the losses I’ve suffered through those years. This is why I choose not to look back, not to relive the good memories, because they would often be countered with the bad.

But I’m older now, smarter, stronger in my beliefs, and I have a son. I’d love to be able to tell him the wonderful, beautiful memories of my youth, to romanticize a time where screens and material objects weren’t a priority, where throwing a ball, climbing a tree, and riding a bike was everything. To do so, I need to face the demons. This is an attempt to relieve myself of the tormented past, to rise above the fears and the moments we all would prefer to forget.

This is my story, or as best a retelling as I can make it. There are liberties taken with certain events, but make no mistakes, these things did happen. There was a clock, and still is. There was a dreamcatcher the same size as the one that now sits in my son’s window, and there was a tree that shouldn’t have been alive. There were nightmares, drugs, addiction, and suicide. There were missing persons and physical attacks that played a foul symphony along with the assaults of the mind and spirit. And the reason all this existed was a presence known as Six.

This story is based on true events. All names have been changed to protect those involved with this haunting story.