The first time I met a spirit, I was seven years old and I have never forgotten it, writes EMMA SAUNDERS
The first time I remember seeing a spirit was when I was about seven.
I grew up in Wigginton, near Tring, a tiny village out in the sticks of Oxfordshire. The woods where I used to play—that’s where it happened.
It was part of the Rothschild estate, near Pendley Manor. There used to be old stables there, and one day I walked into them and saw a stable hand sitting on one of the walls where the horses would be.
He was just sat there looking out. He didn’t acknowledge me, just sat there, and then he disappeared. That’s the first time I remember.
I was a kid and didn’t really understand it, but it stuck with me. I didn’t communicate with him, but I definitely saw him. That was the start of it all.
I think my spiritual awakening actually began earlier, when I was five.
For a whole year, I had the same dream every night—about a wolf chasing me in the school playground. I would scream and wake my dad, who would come in, sit with me, and ask if I was okay.
At the time, I thought it was just night terrors. I’ve since read that wolves are linked to spiritual awakenings, so perhaps that was it.
As a kid, I always loved horror stories and films, which my friends thought was odd.
When I was a teenager, I did the usual things—Ouija boards, trips to the woods and farmyards, looking for ghosts. But it wasn’t until my early twenties that things became serious.
I moved into a house just around the corner from where I grew up. I started seeing things in my peripheral vision. My big Newfoundland dog kept staring into the corners of rooms as if something was there.
I heard footsteps, and one day the child gate between the kitchen and living room slammed shut in my face—no one was there, no wind, nothing.
The house next door was empty. The wife had died and the builder who bought it wasn’t living there yet. But at night, the light switches kept turning on and off by themselves. That’s when I thought something might really be going on.
I’ve also seen shadows pass through the mirror. That was when I started looking into the paranormal more seriously.
One day, a council worker approached me while I was outside.
He asked how long I had lived there. I told him maybe 13 years.
Then he asked, “Does anything weird happen in that house?”
I tried to keep a straight face, not wanting to give anything away. He went on to say, “I used to live here with my sister and her little boy. We had all this happen. My sister and her boy moved out because she couldn’t cope. I even sat in the armchair once with a shotgun, waiting for whatever it was to show itself, because I was so scared.”
Everything he told me matched my own experiences.
That was when I knew I had to find out more.
A couple of years later, I moved to Worcester for a fresh start. A school mum told me about paid paranormal events and invited me to join her.
I went along and was hooked immediately. My first event was at St Briavels Castle. After that, I did more and more.
