If You Wake Up To [Sister] Standing Beside Your Bed… RUN

Back in high school, over the summer, I’d spend a lot of time at my friend’s house. He had a little sister who was about three or four at the time. One day, whilst we were watching something on the computer, she came into the room, and [Friend] noticed a rather serious scratch on her arm.

Friend: “Whoa, hey, [Sister], how did you get that boo-boo?”

[Sister] replied in a sweet but serious voice.

Sister: “Satan scratched me!”

Friend & Me: “WHAT?!”

Sister: “Satan scratched me! See?!”

She repeated herself firmly, showing us her arm with the scratch.

Sister: “I don’t think he likes me…”

Me: “Uh, yeah…”

I looked at [Friend]. [Sister] was very young, and though his family was religious, they hadn’t introduced such concepts as Satan or the devil to her, so you can imagine how troubling her statements were.

We both started quickly firing off questions, testing her to see if it was a misunderstanding, but her answers either did little to calm us or, more concerningly, made things that much more sinister and worrying.

Me: “Did he say anything to you?”

Sister: “No, he doesn’t talk.”

Brother: “What does he look like?”

Sister: “He’s black, and, uh, small and he has yellow eyes… and nails! That’s what he scratched me with!”

After a few more questions, [Friend] asked:

Friend: “Have you seen him before?”

Sister: “Yes, but sometimes he’s there and sometimes he’s not. Sometimes he follows me around, but most of the time he just watches me.”

Yeah, that one actually genuinely shocked us both. Neither of us said anything for about ten seconds after that.

I mean, seriously, we were being told that a small, black, yellow-eyed “entity” that didn’t like [Sister] would come and go, sometimes following her around but mostly just watching her. And now, no longer content to just watch her, he had actively attacked her. And despite being unable to talk, he had somehow communicated to a three- or four-year-old little girl, that his name, of all possible names, was Satan. That gave the both of us pause. 

Concerned, suspicious, and slightly dumbfounded, [Friend] eventually got a bright idea.

Friend: “Can you show us where this happened?”

Without saying anything, [Sister] confidently led us through the house and into the garden and pointed at the fence. 

That’s when [Friend] figured it out.

The next-door neighbor’s new cat named “Satin”, after the fabric, had been the one to scratch her, and she just hadn’t learned the cat’s name properly.

We both collapsed into hysterical, deeply relieved laughter once we figured it out, and we went on to excitedly tell the rest of his family. Still, for a few moments there, it was quite sincerely like being in “The Exorcist”.