Well, It all started when me and my band (called Shacklett, check em out sometime) went to this run down, abandoned camp revival called Grace Bible Camp. This place has been abandoned for about, I'd say, 8 years. Apparently It was rather active until one summer everyone came down and it was torn to shreds. Beds missing, kitchen destroyed, windows broken, etc. So, they did the most logical thing that came to minds. THEY LEFT IT EXACTLY THE WAY IT WAS. They still to this day don't know what happened.Well, my friends and I thought it would be scary if we explored the place. Scary isn't even the half of it. It is the epitome of nopenopenopenope.avi. Well, after crapping my pants and getting pumped, we proceeded into this creepy, Ungodly place. We managed to get to the chapel with the pews and an old, out-of-tune piano. And, all across the ground there were these buttons with this black dude on them on them This was creepy within itself, but my friend thought it would be funny to play Mad World by Gary Jules.
I pooped a little.
Well, I was done, and wanted to go home (partially because of the poop). On the way out, my friend thought it would be funny if he took a bible from Bible Camp and kept it. Well, little did we know, this would be the downfall of us all.
Because inside this bible, read:
"To Quentin
Love, Mom"
Now, to everyone else this wasn't too scary, but the night before that, I had a dream that a huge, autistic black guy broke into our house, killed my mom, and then strangled me. While he was strangling me he said, "Give me my Bible back."
I immediately wanted nothing to do with this bible. So, the next day, on the way to our gig, I THREW the bible out the window of the car.
I don't know what I was thinking.
Literally 10 seconds after this happened, my friend crashed his car into the ditch. We didn't make it to the gig, and our instruments were destroyed. Bit o' bad luck, hm?
Well, then some weird shit started happening. All the lights in my room burned out, my ps3 fried, and I kept having that dream over and over again. Later in the week, my friend called me crying and said his mom tried to kill herself and said she didn't know why she tried. This continues on for about 2 months.
My life is utterly miserable for those 2 months. I can't seem to do anything right, everything I touch breaks, and people who come in contact with me have bad luck as well.
Enough is enough.
We decide to rid this "Quentin" from our lives. He won't stop until he has his bible, or blood. We go to the spot where I threw the bible. We look everywhere, and cannot find it. It landed on a golf course, so we figured that someone cut the grass and found it. So, we spend the whole night trying to find this guy, and we finally found him, and he said he'd gladly give it back. Feeling accomplished, we head back to Grace Bible Camp. On the ride over, I get a call from the police.
"Your friend has been shot in an accident, and is in the hospital right now. We can't get a hold of his parents, and he said he wants you."
That was it, that was the straw the broke the camel's back. I break down, I've never cried that hard in my life. Quentin got his blood, and his bible. After the hospital trip, we head to Grace Bible Camp. We place the bible on the altar, lock up the God forsaken place, and never return.
To this day I don't know what that was, but my life has been significantly better ever since. This whole experience has definitely scarred me for life; I will never forget the story of Quentin, the man who just wants his bible back.
-The Muffin Man
