"Amon" Belongs To "Them"

Things would've been better for me, mother, and my sweet little sister if I hadn't have answered that damn door. I should've said "No" and continued to play with my music box. But no, I was a stupid little child who didn't know any better and decided to answer the door, welcoming in an unholy visitor—my grandmother. If I hadn't answer the door, my sister would still be here with me and at least my mother could have a chance at living life. I still miss my sister. My dear, precious sister. I miss the way we always played together and laugh, seeing her smile and just being a big brother to her.

This could have all been avoided if I hadn't answered the door and let in my grandmother who had returned from her long "vacation." I knew in my heart of hearts lied a terrified little boy who saw his sleeping mother's hand get cut for blood to put into grandma's special tea, but my fear was unable to surface and my judgment was affected poorly, as if I were feeling the numbing effects of cocaine and the relaxing properties of marijuanna, but all combined into an otherworldy drug high. The drug that got me high were hearing "their" voices as grandma taught me the history of the house that I lived in. "Amon" was what my house was called. I was too intoxicated and impaired beyond belief to notice my poor mother was in jeopardy and nearly dying from blood loss. Dear God, why could I have just stayed in bed when grandma called me? Why couldn't I have just protested like a normal bratty little kid and put up a good fight? In my mind's eye, I saw the look of concern on my sister's face as she was furious and hysterical over the well-being of our mommy. I wanted to help her, I should've noticed mother was getting weaker, under the spell and power of grandmother's invisible friends.

Who the fuck were these people? Were they long-gone family members and friends of my never-before-mentioned bloodline? Were they the previous owners and occupants of this house? Or something worse...? Again, if I hadn't drunk that damn tea, I would've acted fast and called an ambulance for mother and she would be alright. But no, I let go of my sister's hand and cut the phone cord loose, unaware of what I was doing, this caused Missy to boil over with rage, her seeing my lack of sympathy and remorse for our mother. Missy had enough of grandma and that godforsaken tea pot. Such bravery my little sister displayed as she picked up the tea pot, smashing it. The tea looked more like a mixture of Raspberry Zinger tea and grape Mad Dog 20/20. The floating tea cups fell, grandma stood still as though the life had been sucked from her. And what I saw still haunts me to this day... My sister getting manhandled by "them." "They" spotted the beautiful fireplace in our kitchen and thought it would be perfect to eliminate Missy. I knew that once the tea pot was broken, the "spell" that was taking its toll on me was finally broken, and I was free.

But too little, too late, the spell was broken, I was away from view, oh Lord why did I leave my sister behind? I should've come back for her, but I was anxious to escape. As I mentioned earlier, it wasn't "them" that manhandled Missy that haunts me to this day, but, seeing the giant axe sail out of the basement and cut the poor child into pieces, the smoke coming from the chimney told me that it was Missy that got thrown into the fire. Oh NO!!!

Since I'm free of the spell, I realize now what I must do. Someone is gonna pay for taking my sweet Missy from me and nearly ending my mother's life... That wrinkled old bitch... The one who is to blame for all this... GRANDMA! I found out that "their" power was weak on the outside, and that Grandma would be uprotected by "them." You will pay for your deeds, your sick mind has come to an end—STOP IT! Ultimately tearing through her neck felt so liberating, I was avenging the death of Missy, that's what you get for taking my little sister, bitch. I ran into the woods as far as I could, realizing that there was nowhere to hide. Grandma had died. Farther and farther I ran, I saw "their" eyes looking at me in the darkness of these woods, I passed out, dreaming that I was one of "them."

The following morning, our family doctor, Dr. Landau, came with police and ambulance and questioned me. The final words I heard from him were "You can take him away now, the boy has lost his mind." I miss my mother, I haven't seen her since they put me in this hellish asylum... Tonight, I must leave for the old house... Grandma, I'm coming home...

"Grandma? I knew it was you at the door." She appeared to be acting and talking normal despite the huge hole in her throat. "Now come inside, my dear. It's good to see you again despite what you did to my throat. They're waiting upstairs... Come, Missy is there, too. She's sitting in grandpa's lap." Was this true? Missy didn't die? I finally get to see my grandfather? I was hoping this wasn't a dream and that I could grab my little sister and give her the biggest hug in the world and that we would all be a happy family again. I'm so excited! But, my happiness was cut short when grandma said the following... "I bet you're dying for a cup of tea." And vanishes into thin air. 18 years have passed and now Missy wants to help me in preventing our mother and Dr. Landau from getting married and taking over the house... After all, "Amon" belongs to "them." Mother made the mistake of dumping me in the coffin of my little sister after Dr. Landau sedated me and setting me on fire... This was a conspiracy... How could you do this to me, mother? This is my warning to you: WHEN THE MOON IS FULL, I WILL RETURN TO HAUNT YOU, YOU GODFORSAKEN WHORE...

- King Diamond