The Primal Fear

By Latesha Williams

A family is torn apart by an evil, sadistic plague that has haunted the Peterson family for many years. Until one Liza Ray Peterson manages to escape the grip of the malevolent spirit that has taken many lives in her bloodline. With the help of a wise old friend and accepting her clairvoyant gift, she has to go back and face off with the evil presence to save her life. Unlocking the secrets of her past involves unraveling years of hidden truths and lies, which will lead one young woman on a dangerous path facing demons of unresolved issues. Liza Ray finds herself with no other choice but to go back to the family home where it all began. It’s do-or-die for Liza. Will she unlock the secrets of her past and defeat the demonic force or fall victim like others in the Peterson bloodline?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781646544127

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The Primal Fear

Latesha Williams

Copyright © 2020 Latesha Williams

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books, Inc.

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2020

ISBN 978-1-64654-411-0 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64654-412-7 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

My Tea Party

Age Announcement

Ghostly Encounter

Hurricane

She’s a Bad Mama Jama

Alone

The Visions

Evil (Blood of the Innocence)

The Awakening

Unwanted Guest

Death Becomes Her

Angel Wings

Are You Okay

Changes, Changes

Is It a New Beginning

Their Back

A Dance with the Devil

She’s Watching

I’m Ready/This Means War

Time to Settle the Score

The Stand

Home Sweet Home

First, I would like to give thanks to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for all things great and small.

I would like to dedicate this project to all women, young and old, who have been told you will never become anything, From one dreamer to the next, you can do all things through Christ Jesus who gives you strength.

So Do It

To my husband and children, I love you always

Chapter 1

My Tea Party

My name is Liza Ray Peterson, and I’m from Cincinnati, Ohio, in the small town of Curry with a population of 4,600 people. My family had lived in this town for a very long time. So long, in fact, when we say, Everybody knows everybody, it was meant literally. I grew up here with the best parents. My dad was a very fine-looking guy, which is what I would often hear Mom say as she teased him about all the ladies at our church who fell all over themselves because of him. He was tall with dark hair, and beautiful brown eyes, along with a big voice. Now my mom, well, she was the envy of the town. She was always well-dressed and always participating in some kind of community function. I would always love it when she’d say, Ray, go out looking like a lady at all times, and never let anyone see you with your hair tangled. It isn’t ladylike. Then with this huge grin on her face, she would never forget to tell me how beautiful I was.

I could really say that as a nine-year-old, I was very happy. I only wished I had a sister or brother to share my time with because it got kind of boring sometimes, which in turn caused me to be in Mom and Dad’s hair a lot. Always wondering what they were doing and messing around in their things. They loved each other so much. I would always catch my mom and dad in the act of kissing or hugging each other. It’s funny because they would know that I was somewhere around just watching. They would laugh and call me out. When I wasn’t in their hair, I was getting into things around the house. There was always a lot that I could get into because it was so big. My home was so gorgeous, and I loved the upstairs. Our downstairs was to die for, and my room, just awesome! My mom and I decorated it, and I still remember that day. We both got all messy with different kinds of pink paint. Mom would often talk about the history of the house. She would often say it had a lot of history, and I would ask what kind. As always, I was very curious. Yet, she always answered.

This house has been in your father’s family for many years. This house has been passed down from generation to generation. Your dad lived here when he was a little boy, and there are many memories here for him. As a matter of fact, that room across from yours, the one that your dad just turned into his study, was his room as a boy.

She really would take much pleasure in telling me about the stories of Dad’s childhood and the things he would share with her. The house was a beauty, and it was mine. I would often tell myself that I would always remember my dad and mom because they filled this house with so much love. I can remember them being so good to each other. Dad was so caring as a father, and he would always play games with me when he got home from work. I often wanted to know more about my dad’s house and what it meant to have it in his family for generations and generations. I was just so fascinated with our house. It was home. Even the yard was something that I loved so very much. That, too, was so huge with big trees that hovered over the house. On those hot summer days, it was always easy to find shade while swinging on my tire swing that my dad put up for me. Dad told me that I should be happy with the tire swing because he and his two brothers never had one. To him, that alone should have made me feel fortunate.

Although our home was passed down to my dad and his two brothers, they chose not to live in the house, but luckily for me, my dad did. Dad always said they were destined to live far away and that ever since they were young lads, as he would say, they always wanted to move far away. Get away from Curry was all they wanted to do. My two uncles were older than my dad. He was the baby boy. Mom would often remind him of that because she, too, was a little older than he was. My life was picture-perfect. The neighborhood was nice, and even school was good. Since we all knew each other at school, I had lots of friends and I adored my teachers. I really loved my school, but again, my first love was being home.

Even though I’d lived in this house since I was born, it was like I was just getting to understand how beautiful and comfortable it always felt. Yet every twist and turn of that house, I knew and I can say now as an adult I appreciated how my home made me feel. I took comfort in knowing that my parents felt the same. It always showed, with my mom always doing things to beautify the place, from my dad on weekends spending time working on the yard as if it could get any better.

I remember one time on my tenth birthday, I told my mom that I wanted to invite some of my friends over for a tea party. For some reason, I was so fascinated by them. So that is exactly what I got, and it was the best party I ever had. My mom bought all of these extremely nice hats for the girls to put on as they arrived. So many soft pinks, whites, and yellows were everywhere. It reminded me of a spring garden. The front yard was turned into the tea party of the century, and I believe every young girl from the neighborhood showed up in their pretty little Southern belle dresses. We had tea and cupcakes, and it was an amazing time. With our backs straight, chins up, and legs crossed, we just laughed as if we were sophisticated young teenage girls being introduced to society. It was a day to remember, and I honestly believe my mom was more excited than I was the night before. I mean, she baked and baked until she couldn’t bake any longer. I remember waking up to the smell of freshly baked warm red velvet cupcakes, along with the sweet smell of chocolates and vanillas. Man, she was so determined to give me the best birthday I could ever have.

Chapter 2

Age Announcement

My tenth birthday really was a time to remember. It seemed like the whole town knew my mom was going to do something big. She was really liked by many in the town. People would always comment on the things she wore and how she carried herself. I recall going into town with her the day after my party, and we went into the convenience store to pick up some things. The grocery store owner’s name was Bill Collingsworth. Mr. Bill, I would call him. I will never forget this particular day. Like any other, I walked in with Mom, and they spoke as they always did, but this day, he looked down at me with these intense eyes. He was not at all like he always was.

He says, So, Ms. Liza Ray, you have just turned ten years old, uh? Well, you know life can be about sacrifice. Some we might have to make in life. Even at the tender age of ten, we learn to accept things that we can’t change, things that are bigger than we are, things that have been set into motion even before we were born.

I remember just being so confused because for the life of me, I did not know what he was talking about and what it all meant. Mom was still walking through the store, but I couldn’t move. It was like I was hypnotized for a moment. I had never seen him look like that. His face was hardened, and darkness filled the air between us.

Soon, my mom walked over, ready to be checked out. There was a quick snap of his head as if he just got off track. I clutched close to my mom when she came up.

She said, My dear Liza, are you all right? Why, if you squeeze my leg any tighter, you will cut off my circulation, child. Are you all right?

I could not speak. She called my name again, and I still could not speak. Slowly I answered, Yeah, Mom, I am okay.

On the ride home, I was very quiet, and I wondered what had gotten into Mr. Bill. He was always such a nice man, always giving me free soda pops when I go in. What was he talking about, things I can’t change and sacrifice? I soon forgot all about what happened at the store that day. I just thought Mr. Bill was having a bad day.

I tell you one thing; it was like everybody in my town knew I had turned another year older. Even when my mom and I would see certain people from the area, they would always say something about me turning one year older. My mom’s hairdresser Ms. Connie would even make a big deal about it and remind my mother that she was going to have a very smart, mature woman. You would have thought I was eighteen already.

After all, my party was the talk of the town, thanks to my mom. She made sure that we always made a statement in all that we did; from parties to cookouts, she always did a great job at people remembering her. That is what I loved most about her, how she always made people feel so open and free while around her. I don’t believe she ever met a stranger.

As an adult now, I always think about the things my mom and dad did and how much they meant to me. Dad was a very routine type of person. You could set your watch by him. After work, he would come home, play games, and spend time with me. Then he’d let me know it was time for him to go do his work, and he went up to his little room. I was too young to understand his job, but whatever he did required him to work at the job and then spend a lot of time at home on the computer in his workroom. Sometimes I would sneak up the stairs and peep through the door and watch him. I knew he knew that I was watching, but he would never let me know that he knew. My special thing that he and I would do was while peeping through the door, he would pretend to fall asleep in his chair and doing this really loud snore. I would tiptoe in and take a blanket and cover him up. I’d whisper in his ear, I love you, and as I walk away, he would whisper back, "And I will never let you forget it."

Dad was just great like that. You know, as an adult, we never know the sacrifices our parents make for us. Yet I learned just how far a parent will go to protect their child. All the things I learned from my parents, I use in my everyday life now. They taught me just how good life can be depending on what you make it. But the main thing I always wanted as a child was a little sibling because it was always me and it seemed like things would have been more interesting with a little sister or brother to argue with every now and then but I made out. My uncles, as I stated earlier, lived away, and we rarely ever got to see them. It was like once they left this town, they never wanted to look back. I had a few cousins, and I always wanted them to come down so we could play. I just felt like I didn’t know them, but if I had, would we have gotten along? Being that out of all my cousins, I was the only girl; I couldn’t help but wonder if I would have liked the boyish kind of games they would play. Who knows, but now even at the age of an adult, it still seems like it would have been good to have someone like a brother or sister in your life. Like now at the tender age of twenty-five, I would be able to call my sister or brother just to see what they are doing or just be able to talk about simple things or even secrets. My heart yearned for a sibling so bad. So often I wondered as to why I wanted one that badly. Wasn’t I happy enough with great parents?

Chapter 3

Ghostly Encounter

That burning sensation of wanting another sister or brother in my life soon was filled by an unlikely guess. She came into my life right before my twelfth birthday, and I never knew what hit me. She changed my life in a big way; well, the presence of her changed my life. I will never forget the moment I met Lydia. I remember that night like it was yesterday, and at first, it was frightening and scary, but for some reason, I chose to entertain this new friend that came to me. It was my regular nightly routine. After Dad and I had our time to play, he went to do his work in his private room. I did what I always did, come back hours later and see if Dad was pretending to be sleep. I walked in and covered him just like I always did and whispered, I love you, and just before I got to the door, like clockwork, he whispered, "And I will never let you forget it."

Mom yelled and let me know that it was time for my bath, and so I ran my bathwater and soaked for a while. When I got out, I walked toward my room to get ready for bed, but as I opened the door, there she was sitting on the bed. I yelled with the loudest scream I had ever had in my life. I ran out into the hallway with a fear that was collapsing my heart. Soon, Mom and Dad came rushing toward me like the house was on fire. It was like they got to me at the same time, and they each had a look of terror on their faces. It seemed as if they were so scared and puzzled.

They began to question me about what was wrong, and as soon as I uttered the words that someone was in my room, Dad rushed toward the room as if he was a soldier preparing to go to war. If ever I had any doubt or questions about their love for me, it was answered that night.

My dad soon came out. Liza, there is no one there. Where did you see this person because there is no one there now, sweetheart?

He spoke with such a reassuring voice, but Mom was not convinced. She began to say, Honey, did you check everywhere? Are you sure there was nothing?

Dad was very rattled but still saying there was nothing. They stood me up and began trying to calm me down. Mom suggested we go into the kitchen for some hot cocoa, and Dad helped her walk me down. I began to calm down. I felt safe with my parents. I knew that they would not let anything hurt me. The questions that still remained in my mind were who was she, what was she doing in my room, and what did she want? The only thing I knew at that time was that I was truly afraid of what I had just seen. With what had just taken place, there was no way I was about to sleep in my room. Thankfully that night, Mom and Dad didn’t even try to make me. I ended up sleeping with them, and the next night and the next. Let’s say, I was avoiding my room at all cost.

For those nights that I would not go anywhere near my room, Mom would get my clothes and anything that I needed from there for me, but soon, I knew I had to go back. I knew that the time was near when we sat down for dinner one night and Dad said, So, Liza, are you ready to talk about what happened in your room because, sweetie, you have to start back sleeping in your room.

Liza Ray, you know that I and your father wouldn’t let anything happen to you, said my mom, and I knew that they meant it, but for some reason, I knew that there was nothing they could do about this person that was in my room.

I knew that there was something about her that Mom and Dad could not prevent from happening, in a matter of speaking. I believed that if she wanted to come back, there was nothing anyone could do about it. I was very afraid to talk about her, and for some reason, I felt like it was one of those things that my parents would not understand.

So, I just cleared my throat and said, Mom, Dad, it was nothing. I think it was just my shadow as I walked into my room and it reflected from off the walls. Really, it was nothing. And although I needed to convince myself more than them, I dreaded those awful words that said, I think I am ready to sleep in my room. I knew it wasn’t true.

I was just not ready, but I knew that I had no other choice. So that night as I went through my regular routine, I cleared my throat because it began to feel like I had knots in it as it grew closer and closer to the time for me to go to bed. Mom came in and said, Remember, we are just down the hall. You are all right.

As she dimmed the lights, I took a big gulp and said to myself, Here we go. For a long while, I lay there with fear. Every sound that was made and cracks that were heard seemed to be more than usual. This particular night, I was hearing things that I had never even paid attention to before, but I could still see light from the bottom of my door from Dad’s room and I knew that they were still up.

Which gave a bit of ease to my mind, but it still did not stop the fact that I was scared out of my mind. Finally, I fell asleep, and when I awoke the next morning, I realized that even in the condition that I was in, I actually had a very good night’s sleep. As soon as I came down to the kitchen, the first thing Mom and Dad asked me was How was it? She and Dad were standing there with this very anxious look on their faces, wondering if I was going to say something that they did not know how to respond to.

I went about my day still thinking about the girl that I saw with so many questions in my head. I started to think that maybe I imagined it, but that little voice in the back of my head was letting me know that I could tell myself anything but still reminding that I did see what I thought I saw. Now every time I would approach my room, my chest would tighten up, but when I went in, I saw nothing. I would look all around the room waiting, wondering was she going to be there, but again, nothing. As time passed, I began to forget more and more about her, not completely but that sort of thing you will never forget. For some crazy reason, I had a feeling that I would see her again. I did not want to, but I knew I would. I knew because of that look she had on her face, like she was here before.

One Saturday morning, I was up really early. I loved my Saturdays because it was school free, but I went to wash my face. Went into the bathroom, went to the sink, and turned on the water. When I leaned down to splash some water on my face, I rose up, and there she was standing right behind me. Before I could even get myself together to run or scream, she waved her hand, and the door slammed closed. She closed the door with just one wave of her hand; I could not move and was too scared to scream. This time I got a good look at her face. She was just a bit taller than I was with long dark hair, big brown eyes, and she had on a gray and pinkish-like dress with these sandals that looked a bit old. Her skin was very pale, and from the looks of her, she might have been my age. For minutes, which seemed like hours, we stood face-to-face looking at each other. She was really checking me out. I didn’t know what to do, but all of a sudden, words came out of my mouth. I felt like if she was going to hurt me, I might as well say something.

Who are you and where are you from? I asked. She raised her hand, and I immediately flinched, but she touched my hair.

She put her hand down and said with a very girl-like voice, Your hair is like mine. Yes, it is, I answered. I am Liza. What is your name? And she answered, I am Lydia.

As she said her name, I can almost say I felt a sense of calmness. I proceeded to ask her the question that I kind of already knew the answer to, Are you dead?

She looked up at me with this very serious look and reached around me to try to turn the water off. I had forgot all about it running, but it seemed as if she was having trouble cutting off the water. She held her hand very still over the faucet and stared very hard at it. Soon it slowly began to turn, and the water ceased.

She looked at me and said, Some things take more time, and some I can do easily, and to answer your question, yes, I am.

Many other questions followed, but I really did not want to push it. She began to say something else, but my mom knocked on the door and said, Ray, what is taking you so long? Are you going to have some breakfast? Lydia was startled and just vanished.

I opened the door and told her that I was coming down; I did not know whether to tell my mom and dad or keep it a secret, which we never did. We never kept secrets from one another. I just did not want to alarm them, and besides, after this encounter with Lydia, it seemed as if she was not that bad or scary or even there to hurt me. I was kind of looking forward to her coming back, to find out more about her. It was like there was something drawing me to her instead of away.

Now looking back on this situation, I thought I happened to be a pretty strong girl at that age. To stand that close to a person who is no longer alive and be eager to find out about her, my life definitely changed dramatically. After Lydia, I found myself spending most of my days with her. She just talked and talked about how she liked me and how I was a great friend. She was very alone, and she has watched me for a long time and wanted to show herself to me and finally did. She liked to play games and do her hair in the mirror as I did.

One day as we were in my room just talking, Mom walked by, and she asked, Ray, who are you talking to, an imaginary friend? I smiled and said yes. She just smiled, but imaginary she was not. As my mom walked away, Lydia said, Your mom is really nice. She reminds me of my mom, and I asked what her mom was like.

She answered, Caring and kind and always combing my hair. She loved my hair, and she smelled really good. She held her head in the air as if she was still trying to smell her mom’s hair. She asked me how it felt to be warm because she had been cold for a long time. I could not explain, but her countenance became so sad, I did not know what to say.

I asked her the question that I had wanted to ask since the bathroom, Lydia, how did you die?

I drowned, she said. I had a beautiful life, a lot like yours.

She went to say that she was thirteen when she passed; I even began to feel so sad for her. Lydia seemed so nice to have died when she was so young. The more and more she came around, the closer we got. I began to forget about the fact that I had no siblings. We had so much fun together, and she was so funny. She would play tricks on my mom when I was in the kitchen with her. It was normally while Mom made cookies or was cooking in general. Mom would just be talking and talking, and she would put certain things that she was using to cook with in one place, and Lydia would sneak over and move it somewhere else. Mom would, every now and then, look over with this confused look on her face, like, Didn’t I just have this? or How did that get there? and I would just giggle, and Lydia would laugh and laugh. She was just so fun. Mom would often say to me, You know, you and I don’t talk like we used to. It just seems as if you are always busy doing something, and it is like you have someone you are with. I would clean it up and say, No, Mom, I’m just playing. As I thought about it, I wasn’t spending that much time with Dad anymore either.

This one particular evening when Dad came home, I was determined to get in my time with him. I asked, Dad, are we going to play games tonight before you go into your room to work?

He answered, Why, Ray, I would not put anything before it.

So, we played games together, and just like always, we had a good time. I happened to look up on the staircase, and there stood Lydia, and she, for some reason, did not look too happy. She had a look of despair on her face, as if something was startling her. My attention was off my dad, and I was totally captivated by her facial expression while she stood there on the stairs.

Dad called to me several times, and I could hear him, but at the same time, I couldn’t really make out what he was saying. He shook me and said, Ray, what is it? What do you see? And I looked at him and looked by the stairs, and she was gone.

He said, Are you okay?

Yeah, I answered.

Well, enough playing for the night, he said, and then he went up to his room. I ran to my room looking for Lydia and wondering if there was something wrong. She certainly looked like it was. As I got into my room, she said, You left me. I thought we were going to play together. And I said, "We will. I just had to spend time with my dad. We have always done that, and I have been with you so much that I didn’t want him to think that I did