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not anything supernatural or spiritual, because she could not

hear the voices and she didn't see the table shake inside the
house. We went to a church, but there was no priest available.
I eventually found a priest at another church who referred me
to the only church in San Antonio that would perform
exorcisms; St. Mary Magdalene. I didn’t know where it was

located, but I didn’t have any gas money, so I knew that I
wouldn’t be able to get there that day. I was terrified to go
back home. I could hear laughing and a voice was telling me
that he was poking holes in my feet while I was sitting in the

car with Nicole. There was no escape. I had no power to stop
it. The police could not save me. My parents could not save
me. My boss could not save me. I could not save me. No one
on Earth could save me. I had no control. This wasn’t just
about hearing voices. I could feel pain in my feet. It felt as if

sharp fingernails were being driven in the bottom of my feet
while a voice told me that he was drinking my blood. I felt
tortured. This became a frequent occurrence.

I started complaining about the pain and told Nicole
what the voice was saying, against my better judgment. Then
Nicole and I started fighting. I drove around for a while and

then decided to go home. I was scared and felt helpless. It
was one thing to mess with me, but to threaten to mess with
my daughter was fueling a stronger desire for immediate
help. I had no idea that this was going to get worse. I wrote

this my journal:

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