It's hard to know where to begin with my story, seeing as I've had many experiences since an early age. I guess the earliest memory I have is when I was about 4 years old. I was sitting in the corner of the living room talking to "Charlie" (that's the name I gave him). I remember plain as day talking to him about the things that had happened to me that week, you know just normal things. My mother came into the room and said, "Tara who are you talking too?" I said to my mother, "That's my friend Charlie, I always talk to him," and of course she saw nobody.
This happened a few times and I noticed she got very frustrated with me, she thought I had an imaginary friend. Then one day it was just me and my mum in the house and a very strange thing happened. I was running wild round the house playing when my mother sent me to my room for being naughty. As I got to the top of the stairs, I turned around to see my mum standing about 6 feet away from the bottom of the stair case, I somehow slipped and came tumbling down. As I got halfway down the stairs I remember the feeling of being lifted and being put safely on my feet at the bottom of the stairs. My mum came running over, hugging me and asking if I was alright. I said Charlie stopped me getting hurt.
That night I remember overhearing my mum and dad talking. My mum sounded very strange saying, "I saw her floating, I saw her floating! She could of died!" I heard my dad say, "Stop being silly. It's just in your mind."
Within the next few months after this my mum has since told me that, things would mysteriously go missing and things that the family didn't own would appear, such as an old pocket watch, which she found on her dressing table, old postcards from the 40s turned up in the kitchen drawer, a pair of antique glasses turned up on the living room dinner cabinet.
My mother and father run a taxi business from home and one day all of the taxi drivers where having a tea break in our living room when 4 pictures hanging on the wall flew off one by one, landing in the middle of the room. Three of the taxi drivers that where there that day did not turn up for work the next day, shortly after they quit.
One day my mother was taking photos of us kids and she took one of me sitting in the corner of the living room. When she had the photos developed she came across the photo of me, and on my right side there was a clear pale face looking directly at me.
By this point my mother had had enough and wanted help to figure out what was going on. She appeared on a British T.V programme, with the photo, the psychic on the show told her that the man in the photo was a relative of mine on my father's side. He was Irish, in the navy and died at sea. His name was Daniel and that we should see him as my guardian angel sent to protect me.
My mother already knew my father was half Irish so there could be some truth in it but she was sceptical. The next day she went to a different city to see another psychic and they told her exactly the same thing as the other psychic, that he was Irish, he died at sea and that his name was Daniel, word for word the psychic said the same thing. The thing is, the tv show had not aired yet so how could the two stories be the same?
I would like to say that some of this story is taken from my memory and from what my mum has told me about this. This is the start of my interaction with the paranormal, there is plenty more to come.
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