This month I will be sharing a few of my personal ghost stories in honour of October’s thinning Veil.
I used to live in an old house made of wood, stone and plaster. It smelled like an old library when the heaters would turn on and the spare bedrooms would waft a sharp smell of tea rose and old soap even though no one slept in them. The floorboards were warped and would moan or pop where ever your foot decided to step, this would occur even when you tried to tip toe or put a thick rug down. It was clear the house had stories to tell.
All was well until I had a particularly disturbing dream within the first week of my moving in. I dreamt of a pregnant young woman in a blue dress who was murdered. This is not an unusual occurrence in my world, the fist few nights of sleep in a new location are always very revealing for me. I generally get a few visions of things that have occurred in the area. Lafayette, Louisiana showed me an opulent carriage with 2 drivers sitting up front wearing French bell sleeved shirts with grey vests. Wilmington, North Carolina showed me three soldiers in red jackets creeping into thick woods- up to no good I am sure. It seems as though the certain memories burried deep into the land seep into my awareness within my first 24 in a location.
The girl in the blue dress let me know that she was murdered and that she was pregnant. It was extremely sad and had a distinct feeling of confusion, betrayal, and heavy grief. I researched the history of the area looking for any validating snippet I could find. Nothing came up, if this tragedy were true, it was not recorded, which may have greatly attributed to why she was still here. With no real proof to connect the vision to, I let it go. I never had another dream or connection with the girl in the blue dress.
Some years later my boyfriend awoke with a disturbed look in his eyes. He told me that he had seen a pregnant young woman, who looked a bit like Winona Rider, in a dress. In his dream he saw her getting chased down the stairs by a man with a thick moustache, suspenders, and brown freshly pressed suit. He actually got a name, a name that belonged to a prominent, and pretentious, family in the community. Being from Texas, he was not aware of the intricate details of the town and had not yet had a chance to be exposed to the history. His impression was that this important man was trying to hurt this woman because he felt her pregnancy was shameful. He felt that she had passed in the house at the bottom of the stairs and that the death was hidden to protect the families image.
Fast forward a few months to when a good friend was staying with me in the bedroom at the base of the stairs. We had not mentioned our previous experiences but sure enough, within the first few weeks of her stay she had very similar dreams as my boyfriend and I. At this point, with 3 different people independently seeing this girl we decided we needed to offer some support. We lit some white candles to create a strong pure light to draw her near. We then asked that she move on and to leave behind this pain and confusion for the healing glow of the divine. We let her know that she would be re-united with her loved ones and that the answers that she had been seeking here would be found on the others side. We never heard from her again, I do hope she moved on and has begun untangling all of the knots that tied her here. I sometimes think of all of all the souls that wander in a timeless confusion. May they find their light and follow it beyond this world and into the next.
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