I read The Book of Mormon out loud, three times when I lived alone. With an awful spirit.
A spirit that could hear me. And I could feel him. He was angry and dark and had evil intentions for me. He had waited for me there, in that place of my own on the other side of the country.
Don't read aloud to the spirits, especially The Book of Mormon.
The words I read aloud were the only thing protecting me from him, and he and I both knew that.
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