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I hated elementary. Too much mental scarring and trama.
Mirrors suck... emo this is why I'm suprised by my own reflection. "Wow! I think I got older since I last looked in this mirror!" Its been a week since the last time I looked in a mirror... Is that unhealthy? Cuz my friends were shocked.

The painting is still in the closet and not on my wall. I haven't seen any other strange lights that I can recall. However, ever time I open a door, I half expect to see something there. I don't know why, I just do. Granted, I'm not home very much right now due to working two jobs, so maybe that's why things have slowed down? I guess we'll find out when this second job ends.

Nope, not a single weird feeling.

My current cats seem to be doing just fine.

When we were living in that house, we did have a potential run in with our neighbors on one side of us. My cat, then, had had kittens. Four absolutely gorgeous things! One night, they vanished. Mom said that our neighbors had connections to this group that had been busted around that time for "adopting" out cats that usually ended up being strays that lived out of the dumpsters behind fast food restaurants or wherever they could find them. She thinks they took our kittens that time.

I seem to recall overhearing Mom theorizing that it could have been the neighbor boy that could have done that to that one kitten, though they told me it was probably a dog that did it. I was 10, so there's no telling if they were sugar coating it for me. The way it was laid out, though...no dog did that. I still think it was bizarre that there was no blood, though.

I do still get weird feelings from the vicinity of the closet that is currently housing the painting, though. I've also had to whisper out loud a time or two "leave me alone" or something along those lines. The feeling usually persists about a minute more like something's trying to make up its mind and kind of fades, though I can still feel it slightly.

As for information on the house, I don't have any. We were renting it. I met the landlord a couple of times. He even stayed in the room where we found the painting once when we were living there. He was a rather odd old fella, but he was nice. I don't think the house was too horribly old. Since it had ceiling heat instead of central heat, my educated guess would be late 60's or into the 70's that it was built.

**As a side note, a few months ago, I was sleeping on my couch in my room (my room is small enough to where I had to get one of those couches with a pull out bed) and felt a very definite hand on the left side of my waist a little close to my back (I was sleeping with my back to the room) that felt like it was holding me down. I couldn't move and I was scared. I immediately started praying very hard. The hand went away, though I was still very scared. There was nothing in my room other than me and the door was closed as I had left it. That was definitely not a pleasant experience. I thought I had posted that on here, but I guess I didn't.

Also, I have managed to get back into contact with my former art teacher. I will try to get around to asking him if he knows anything of the artist or the painting.

For some reason the artist sounds familiar to me where i heard that name i have no idea (possibly antiques road show or something i wouldnt be suprised). The kitten mutilation just makes me angry spirit or neighbor boy i'm a cat person but enough of that.

I think your drawing the spirit to you the painting might have something to do with it but i'm thinking not much.

If the bible helps try surrounding yourself with a white light completely no breaks or anything before you go to bed and after you wake up and hold that picture of yourself surrounded by a see through white light. Ask god to protect you and basically you've created a protective sheild. I've done this to myself because of various reasons 1 being it can keep you from getting sick(not guarenteed but helpful 2 it makes it so any malicious spirits can't bother/hurt you. They may still be there though. If the spirit listens when you tell it to go away it doesnt seem like its malicious maybe annoyingly protective or curious. possibly wanting to know why you took the painting.

I really need to start checking back more often. I don't think it's trying to hurt me, though I did have a nightmare again. I think it knows when I'm really stressed. Other than my personal journal, this is the only other place I've revealed the nightmare. What follows is what I remembered as I was writing.

I don't know where I was. I was in a bedroom on my boyfriend's old bed. I was asleep. Suddenly, Brian (my boyfriend) wakes me up, but he's acting nowhere near normal. He's yelling at me. He's having me write stuff down that he's saying. Mom keeps walking by our open door and, I swear, she was sniggering.

Before I started writing stuff down, I found I couldn't look up. It's like my eyes were glued mostly shut and it was very blurry. "Brian" took my face in his hands and was telling me to open my eyes in the meanest ways. After I was able to get my eys open is when I was doing most of the writing.

He was getting more and more horrid towards me. He found a bag of chips or something somewhere and started eating them. He was eating faster and faster. Very pig like. His face was swelling up and his hair was getting longer and extremely wispy thin. His teeth were spacing out and becoming smaller.

He started spouting something off about initials. I asked him what my middle initial was. He said "R," which is correct. I asked him what it stood for. He jubilantly responds something along the lines of Raniqua. I said "Wrong!" (my middle name is Renee')

He started screaming about me finding him out. His face morphed into this horrible mummy like face that was long and redish tinged when I was looking at him. This most definitely was not Brian. He grabbed me by the shoulders and stared shaking me violently.

I started screaming. I ried so hard to scream Brian's name in hopes the real one would come to my rescue. I couldn't get anything out but "Brah.....Brah." I closed my eyes, composed myself slightly in what I knew was my last chance. I "calmly" said, "Brian." I woke up saying Brian's name softly in my room.

I was having problems catching my breath. I turned on my TV for light and texted a friend I knew would still be up, pleading for him to tell me I was awake. I got the overwhelming urge to say out loud, "Leave me alone! Please!" I was still in freak out mode, but it felt as if something backed off some.

I think what actually happened, now that I look back on it, was I was having a night terror and whatever it is was possibly curious. I should probably apologize to it. I don't think it's connected to that painting anymore. I think it's been following me since I was younger than when I acquired the painting. I was having nightmares then, too. I even remember an instance of having a nightmare, feeling as if I were being held down completely, and not being able to open my eyes.

Either it's been with me all along, it was intensified by that house I got the painting from, or it's something new altogether. Regardless, I think we've come to a little bit of an understanding.

I still need to ask my former art teacher about the artist. I'll try to do that before I go to bed.