Yeah, So I Lived In A Haunted Cottage – I turned Out (kind-of) OK!
I’ve mentioned in previous blogs that I’ve had ‘encounters’ with ghosty-type stuff.
From when I was about one year old until I was 5, I lived in a tiny cottage with my Nan, Mother, Grandparents and brother. It was one of those Tudor (?) type ones – all black and white and beams and stuff. My Grandparents (on my Mothers side) both died when I was young, so I’m a little hazy over the timelines. Actually there’s a story about my Gran I’ll have to tell, too…
One of my earliest memories is us all sitting in the living room, and hearing footsteps walking across the room above us. At the time it was my Grandparents room, and there was a big double bed in the middle of the room. The footsteps would go straight through the bed, but my Granddad would simply say “She’s walking again.” And that was it. It was also a regular thing to hear someone descending the stairs, then when they reached the bottom, the door at the bottom of the steps would blow open with some ‘freak gust of wind’. And to us it was just normal!
I have to tell this story: Once my Gran was really ill with an ulcer on her leg which had burst. She was bed-ridden. People would go and check on her through the day, and take her food etc.
One day, when someone went to check on her, she said “Who was the visitor I had earlier?”
She hadn’t had any visitors that day. But she insisted “She was sat on that chair over there with a baby in her lap. She didn’t say much, but she had a nice smile.”
Of course, it was put down to her illness and delirium…
When my Grandparents had both died (come to think of it my Granddad died in that room of a massive heart attack!), me and my brother had separate beds moved into that room. Now, I only remember it as being every so often, but apparently every single night I slept in that room, I would wake up screaming.
But I DO remember the reason.
I would wake up, and there’d be no air. The bedclothes were over my head. I was in darkness and the air was getting thin. Usually this was when the panic hit and I’d start screaming until good old Mumsy came in and got me out.
But I was a bright kid (believe it or not), and so sometimes when it happened – and I can remember doing this – I’d stay calm, and work my way around all the edges of the bedclothes, trying to find a way out. All the time in the pitch black with the air going and panic rising. But I could NEVER find a way out – however much and for how long I searched, I’d have to scream for help eventually…
Some relevant facts we found out more than 10 years later:
The ‘apparition’ (there’s plenty more sightings of her by lots of people) is thought to be Miss Morris.
It’s believed she had a baby, but for some reason (possibly post-natal depression) she killed her baby….
……….By suffocating it in its cot.