AngelBreath
Psychic Phenomena
With so many weird events taking place in my life it is really hard to remember them all but a couple do stand out in my memory for one reason or another. You decide if psychic phenomena is real or not...
Clairvoyance
We were frequent visitors to my great-aunt's house during my life [she was more like our grandmother than an aunt - never mind a great-aunt]. I was the first born of my siblings, and I was her goddaughter and her namesake - "Aunt Vicky" we used to call her. My great-aunt's place was magical to me - the house was very old and filled with places where I could do 'things'. On the stairs I heard the 'voices' of my invisible 'friends' that talked to me - while in front of her fireplace I would see 'pictures' as I sat cross-legged. In her bathroom I could 'see' spirits especially while I washed my hands in the old sink. There wasn't a room in the house where I couldn't do something and her house was so full of wonder that I used to beg to go to my great-aunt's. This was different from our home because it didn't have so many people in it - my great-aunt lived alone in an older part of the city - she even had 'original antique glass French doors' leading into her living room where her fireplace was. Being a strange and quiet child I would rather avoid the noisy company of people and I would seek the solitude of these places when we would visit ['to do my thing'].
I never realized what I was doing in the physical was invoking a form of meditation as I descended her hall stairs. I just knew I had a certain way of descending them and I would deliberately go up them so that I could do this when I was coming down. I would count backwards from numbers '10 to 1' each time I did it and I was always on the stair landing when I reached number '7'. Each time I got to the landing I would decide what result I wanted from the countdown. Most people today use this same form of meditation but they do it mentally while I did it physically. My great-aunt only had one bathroom [on the second floor] and I would often use the excuse of having to go to the bathroom to be able to do my meditative countdown.
Sometimes when we went to my great-aunt's house my mother and my great-aunt would go out and they would get me a 'babysitter'. Now, I could never understand why I needed a babysitter even at 4 years of age - I was after all very mature! The only thing I couldn't do for myself was cook, drive a car, or tie my own shoe laces - so why did I need to have a babysitter? This was an affront to my dignity and I felt very insulted - I was no 'baby' so why did I need a 'sitter'? Humph. Indignant is the only word to fit. I didn't like the sound of it at all.
However, I needn't have worried, my 'sitter' [I will call her 'Karen'] liked to talk on the phone when she 'sat' with me. She was 15 years old and had a boyfriend who she would talk to most of the time she 'sat', but she would also play games with me, read me stories, play music and get me some food. When she was not available I would be most upset because the other 'sitters' treated me like a 'baby' and would not leave me alone for even a moment [I couldn't even go pee without them]. I did like Karen - she treated me like the little adult that I was, locked in a child's miniature 4-year-old body so even though I wasn't a 'baby' and I didn't need a 'sitter' I was always happy to see her.
On one particular day when my mom and my great-aunt were sitting in the kitchen and talking - I was doing my usual thing [descending the stairs and talking to my 'friends']. When I got to number 'seven' one my 'friends' began to tell me that my babysitter Karen had been killed on the back of a motorcycle. Now, I knew that Karen's brother had a motorcycle but I had never seen Karen on a motorbike and I knew she was too young to drive so I told my 'friend' that he must be mistaken. He gently told me once more that Karen had been killed on the back of a motorcycle. Still believing he was mistaken I corrected him and told him that he must be in error because she didn't drive. Once again my male 'friend' gently but firmly told me that Karen had been killed on a motorcycle so I asked him how she was killed because she didn't drive. As I asked questions, he explained: He told me that Karen had been on the back of a motorcycle holding onto her boyfriend and that the motorbike had skidded and run into the back of a truck that had jack-knifed. Cars had slammed into them as they lay there unprotected. Karen had been killed almost instantly and her boyfriend was in serious condition but he would survive.
As I was asking questions [to get these details - he didn't volunteer everything so I had to ask to clarify] my great-aunt and my mom had begun to call me and ask me what I was doing [I had been quiet for too long]. I replied that I 'was doing nothing'. They again asked me what I was doing [while I talked to my 'friend'] and again I said I was 'doing nothing' - they were interrupting my conversation and I was trying to get the facts. Because I was not answering them with enough words they got up to come and see what I was doing and found me standing at the 2nd last stair from the main floor 'in deep thought' [conversation with my 'friend']. They again asked me what I was doing as I was just standing there so I proceeded to blurt out my whole conversation with my 'friend'.
I said I had been talking to my 'friend' and that he had told me Karen had just been killed on the back of a motorcycle. At first I thought he was mistaken because Karen didn't drive a motorcycle but her brother Kevin did. But he told me no that she had been on the back of her boyfriend's motorcycle holding onto him. That she hadn't been wearing a helmet and they had skidded when a truck had jack-knifed in front of them and that cars had struck them. Her head had been hit and crushed and she had died almost instantly and that the police would be coming in 20 minutes to tell her mother. That her boyfriend would survive though he was badly injured and that Karen was still 'around' even though she was dead.
Well - this was just a little too much for my relatives to bear so they marched me off into the kitchen to sit with them so that I wouldn't be left alone. The two of them sat there using 'big words' to discuss my mental state - I should be taken to see a psychiatrist, etc., etc. and they paid no attention to me except to tell me to sit there and be quiet. Humph. I was not impressed. I didn't have to wait to be older to understand what they said because my 'friend' told me they were discussing me and that they thought I was crazy. They wanted to take me to a doctor to check out my brain because they thought it was sick - there was something wrong with me. This concerned me as he explained but he said not to worry as it wouldn't happen 'once they found out' [about Karen]. So I changed the subject and asked him how was I supposed to know when the 20 minutes was up for the police to arrive because I was too young to tell time?
Now I realize at 4 I was pretty bright, I could count from 1 to 10 and backwards from 10 to 1 but I could not yet tell time. When I looked at the clock, the numbers looked so familiar and I thought I should know them and recognize them but I couldn't quite grasp it. I almost got it as he tried to explain it to me but I couldn't quite get it. It was like having a word 'on the tip of your tongue' and you know, that you know, that you know it - but just can't quite get it - that was me as he tried to teach me how to tell time. I thought I had it figured out but found out that I was telling time in reverse so I finally gave up and asked him if he could just tell me when the time came as I just couldn't quite get it - he agreed.
So I sat there, bored, with one eye on the clock looking at the numbers moving in a familiar fashion [though having no idea what was what or even what number was what] and as I sat there looking at the clock I listened to my relatives discuss my future under heavy psychiatric care as I was obviously mentally unbalanced. They had to be careful or I would be locked away in 999 Queen Street - I needed therapy as quick as possible to save what I had left of my sanity. ?!? I ‘listened and watched’ and ‘watched and listened’ but everything seemed to be at a standstill - so I decided to pretend I was falling asleep [while still very much aware]. I put my head down on my arms and looked at 'pictures' of the accident and the funeral to come and talked to my 'friend' as he explained.
All of a sudden ‘my friend’ said ‘time's up - the police are here’ - I glanced at the clock [but still didn't have a clue]. Realizing that my relatives were not going to listen to anything I had to say, I got up and walked past them towards the front hall and the front door [the inside door was open and the screen door was visible]. As I passed them, one of them asked me where I was going and I said something about 'just over here' and continued to walk towards the front door. I was then told to come back and sit down [I ignored her and kept on walking]. The request was now a demand and I was told to come back and sit down and where did I think I was going. I quickened my pace because I knew they were going to stop me if I didn't hurry and I wanted to see the police arrive when I reached the front door. I didn't want to run because I knew they would never look or listen and just force me back in my chair but I really wanted to see the police out there so I continued on. I heard my great-aunt behind me get up quickly and almost run after me so I walked really fast, taking the last two or three steps on a bound as she caught up to me as I reached the door. Just as she grabbed me to forcibly drag me back to my seat I yelled out, “the police are here” as I was able to see the car. My great-aunt froze and looked out as my mom came running. Both of these women were glued to the screen door with me as all three of us watched a police car trying to find a place to park in front of Karen's house.
My great-aunt was saying how it was just a coincidence and that they must be parking there for another reason - probably to ticket cars as usual or for a noise complaint. Yet she stayed glued to the spot. After finally finding a place to park, two policemen got out and walked up to the front door of Karen's house and knocked. We all saw Karen's mom answer the door and continued to watch. [All I remember thinking as I watched this scene unfold was how very glad I was that a police car was there when I got to the door because I was very scared about the doctors and stuff.] Within a moment or two we saw Karen's mom suddenly react and begin to cry and the policemen went inside with her. With that my great-aunt said she was going over there to get to the bottom of this and that she would be back in 15 to 20 minutes.
I don't remember what I did over the time we waited. My great-aunt finally did return over an hour later and told my mom to call my father to come and get us as she was going to return to Karen's to keep Karen's mother company. My mother wanted to know what had happened and with a weary eye on me my great-aunt told her that Karen had just been killed on the back of her boyfriend's motorcycle from head injuries. Her boyfriend was critical and they didn't know if he was going to make it [he did]. A vehicle had jack-knifed causing a pile up and several cars had slammed into it. Karen and her boyfriend were part of the pileup and because they had no protection on a bike they were both badly injured. They both turned to look at me and though I was sad about Karen I knew she would still be 'around' so I turned to go get ready to go home. My mom called my dad to come and get us and explained why.
After my dad came and I was safely tucked into the back seat with all my things - my great-aunt stood there for a moment looking at me and I could see she was struggling as she tried to decide something. Just before we pulled away she suddenly leaned into the car and told me that I was not supposed to tell anybody else what I had said today. That whenever I got anything like this from my invisible ‘friends’ I was not supposed to tell anyone except her or my mom as not everyone would understand like they did. She said I would be locked away in a straight jacket in a room with no windows if other people found out what I could do. My mom agreed with all of this as my great-aunt spoke and added in a few of her own words on the subject. They both made me promise not to say anything before we left to go home and I agreed. I had no real idea of what they were talking about but I wanted no part of it and if strangers were going to take me away from my family then I would keep quiet.
I kept this promise for many, many years and only a few close friends ever really knew [it was really hard to keep it a secret when I kept coming out with things that I couldn't know - to people I was often with]. Mostly as I grew up I stayed by myself. There were few kids my age to play with and I was too strange for the others to bother with so I was left to my own company most of the time.
How could I possibly know what had happened on that day? My imagination was good but not that great. Imagination or psychic intervention? You decide...
