The Wig

By P.J Wilson

A loosely based story about a young girl's life growing up in poverty in a shack in the backwoods in Arkansas. She turns her life around as an adult leading her into a phycological possession for evil leaving an ironic twist at the end.    

• Language: English
• Publisher: P. J. Wilson
• Release date: Jan 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386992226

P.J Wilson

About PJ Wilson  PJ Wilson was born and raised in Littleton Colorado. Now living In Kansas City area on a ranch outside of town with her husband.. Wilson loves the outdoors and creating exciting mysteries with a diverse genre of eBooks. Her writings are novettes with either morals of a story or learning something new. Wilson’s goal is to have a new book out every month. Her genra is Mysteries, and unauthorized biography mysteries. Wilson graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in English literature including the creating writing program.

Book preview

The Wig

Though fictional, this story is loosely based on real-life events.

The devil comes in many forms. In this instance, it comes in the form of a wig. The wig carries a narcissistic, mind-devilish, spirit attaching itself to me — using my body as a host, it fed upon my body. It knew my strengths and weaknesses, using the paradox to control me, strengthening itself to feed on me. A tool the Prince of Darkness uses on its prey. The wig pursed me like a potential lover. Little did I know, when I first began wearing it, that it had demonic powers.

I could not get the bleeding to stop. I unsuccessfully wrap towels around my head and weakening now from blood loss coming from my head. I lay down on the floor, the room becomes smaller. I am fading away– dying alone.

Rue found my remains upon her arrival back home from her vacation. I am lying on the exquisitely, shiny white marble floor in the bathroom.

Dead at the age of thirty-six. I died soon after Rue left. The only part left is: bones dried blood, teeth, and hair when she finds me. The blood flow went straight down the body; not out and around as blood flow normally would go. My wig was on at the time of death; it lies now whereby my head was–in pristine condition. It somehow protects itself from the blood as my soul departs from my body, I am quickly whirling down a tunnel and spit out into bright light.

Since growing up in the shack where the devil dwells in the woods, the devil has cursed me. Evil preyed on our family ever since. I will talk about this later when I realize why the house quickly became abandon from the family who once lived there.

By the time Rue and her boyfriend return from her vacation, she sees dead flies laying everywhere in our apartment. Rue sees millions of them at which point she gets the courage to open the bathroom door, this time walking in.

My roommate and best friend, Rue McAlister, and her boyfriend Louis Henry, just arrived back from a six-week European vacation. Rue opens the apartment door, and a horrific smell comes from the bathroom. The stench was terrible Rue stepped back outside vomiting over the apartment breezeway balcony. She collects herself, yet shaking in fear. Rue knocks on the next neighbors' door asking her to call 911 about a horrible smell in her apartment. First responders are arriving, asking Rue what's going on. Rue motions for them to go into our studio. They immediately know the smell is coming from the bathroom. First responders arrive on the scene begin checking for foul play. The detectives, not far behind, assess the situation: at the same time the coroner comes. It is all happening so fast. Sticking to the