GHOSTS AROUND UNITED KINGDOM

MY GUARDIAN ANGELS

MY GUARDIAN ANGELS

My first experience with a spook was when I was 3yrs old. It was at a time when I had been struck with several illnesses at once.  Chicken Pox, Mumps, and German Measles. I can remember my sister catching Chicken Pox first and mum placed us the same bedroom so that I could catch it. It was common practice in those days to let young children mingle together in order to halt the disease in later life. My sister recovered quiet quickly and was thus removed from the "sick room" into a room of her own in the attic.

My illness seemed to be long-suffering and for some of the time I lost consciousness. After what seemed to be a very long time, I became more aware of my surroundings and on one of these "bored" days a smartly dressed man wearing brown trousers, a white pin-stripe shirt and braces, walked into the bedroom.

He seemed very calming and he spoke to me, saying,

"Don't worry. You are going to get better real soon." He added, "But you are going to need to protect yourself."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"If you get hit, crouch down into a ball and cover your head with your arms." he looked at me with a serious look in his eyes, "You'll be ok. Just do as I told you. I have to go now."

I was a little disappointed that this kind man had to leave so soon. "Will you come back and see me again?"

He paused a moment then replied, "I don't know. Maybe... One day."

With that he went. I can't remember him entering the room or leaving it.

Later that day my mum came upstairs to check on me and straighten the bedclothes.

"Is that man going to come back?" I asked.

She looked puzzled, "What man?"

I frowned, "The man who came to see me earlier."

Mum became slightly irritated, "There has been no man. You and I have been alone in the house all day, so I don't want to hear anymore of this nonsense!"

The incident was put to the back of my mind. I learnt fast that if i was told to do something, then I did it with no questions asked. But I never forgot. I did as my "friend" told me about protecting myself against my fathers abusive fists. As he was a big, solid man, and I was a weak, small-framed child, I had no chance of getting away from his abuse. I knew the signs of when he was going to hit me, as he pulled my hair first to drag me to whichever room where he wanted to hit me, and a voice in my head said,

"Crouch down now. Get yourself into as  small a ball as possible." It was stern and precise.

This made it hard for my dad to kick me in the head with his heavy-duty steel-toecap boots. He would kick me in my back instead. I stayed still until he stopped kicking me then
me to get up and go to my bedroom, where I had to sit rigidly still on the edge of my bed until it was either bedtime or I was forced to apologise for my "imaginary" misdemeanour.

I ran away from this abuse when I was 15 years old, and I wouldn't speak to my dad for five years after that, until he came to my flat and sincerely apologised for how he treated me and explained that he had Paranoid Schizophrenia.