Chapter 7: The Nightmares Begin

You may start wondering — when will the abuse and trauma stop? Well… it’s just the beginning. But before we dive into it, I want to say something: technology can be a great ally or a dangerous enemy, depending on how we use it.

My father bought a computer desk — supposedly for us. But guess what? The computer went straight into my brother’s room. This was something new, and my parents didn’t understand anything about it. Still, they gave my brother full access and gave me none. Only if he allowed me. That was the first mistake.

They didn’t try to learn anything about how to use it safely. But they weren’t completely unaware either — the TV already warned about its risks. I watched it too.

My brother had dark curiosity. He was drawn to magic and spiritual practices. Even though he started with “white” magic, he definitely leaned toward the darker side.

He got into Wicca, which is supposed to be a white magic path. But still, he knew there were ways to use it for darker purposes. And he did.

Believe it or not, my brother also practiced automatic writing — and one day, he had to be smudged. He was just a kid, completely ignorant, playing with fire. I saw it with my own eyes. His arms looked like they had something moving inside — like a ball sliding up and down, jumping with no pattern. He wasn’t feeling well at all. It was painful.

A woman came to our house with a roof tile, burned some herbs, and said prayers. She smudged the house, then my brother, then me and my mom. I don’t remember my dad being there. I don’t even know if he ever knew.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

He started coming into my room at night. He gave me orders, like he was hypnotizing me. For a few nights, I pretended not to hear him. I would wake up in the middle of it. Sometimes, he was in my bed with me. I couldn’t tell my parents. Our family was already broken — and I didn’t want to destroy what was left.

One day, I woke up in his room. I had to pretend to be asleep and just do what he told me. I won’t go into detail but believe me — it felt like a rock. Numb. Nothing. You can’t feel anything for your own brother in a moment like that. I shut down. I think I blacked out halfway to my room. I woke up later and didn’t even remember walking back. There were time lapses I couldn’t cover.

Years later, I had a dream — or maybe it was a memory. It felt too real. In the dream, I saw me and my brother, and I kept wondering, “Is this real? Did this really happen?” It felt like a vision of truth I had blocked. And deep down, I knew there was more. I’ll tell you why later.

I know I sacrificed myself. But imagine being a child, living with someone who hurt you — someone you couldn’t even look in the eye because you knew. I stayed silent to protect a family that barely existed. Will you judge me for that?

That was the beginning of my nightmares — the ones that lasted for years.

I would dream of him covering my mouth. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. My whole body was frozen, my energy violated. The pressure. The fear. The helplessness. I felt touched even if no one was there. My space, my body, my spirit — all of it was being invaded. But more on that later.

My brother even bought — or borrowed — a black magic book. Yes, they actually sold that in stores. I saw it myself. It was heavy — filled with evil. It talked about animal sacrifices, dolls, and worse. The energy was dark. I was the one who eventually got rid of it. He never found out. But someone had to do something.

It didn’t stop there. He played with the Ouija board too — homemade, with other kids. Maybe he didn’t go deeper into it, because he didn’t need to be smudged again. I’m not sure. But it wasn’t just spiritual.

He destroyed my dolls — cut their hair. He even switched the tires on our bikes because he popped his. I never had a bike again. My dad knew what he did. Still, my brother got away with it. He was the “smart one.” I was the “dumb one.” The irony.

That’s when I truly learned: freedom is good, but if you don’t know how to handle it, it becomes dangerous. And that’s why kids cannot be left alone. Their curiosity can lead them into danger. They’re pure, but they get lost without guidance. And if someone already has a dark inclination — it gets worse.

I’m not ready to go too deep into this part of my life. I don’t have nightmares anymore. I’m healing. But when it’s your own brother — someone who has so much hate toward you that you can’t explain — you need time to process it all. Every layer of it.

Imagine if I had a protective brother instead of an abusive one. Imagine if my parents were actually present and aware.

I’m not saying this because I can go back and change it. I say it for one reason only: if you are an adult, you need to understand that your presence — or absence — will shape your child’s future. You can be the reason for their emotional destruction… or the foundation of their growth.