TRUE GHOST STORIES IN ENGLAND.

TRUE GHOST STORIES IN ENGLAND.

TRUE STORY EXPERIENCED BY ME.

This contribution is a story about the most frightening experience of my life (so far!) It's a ghost story that has the added dimension of being TRUE!

Some years ago I was in a somewhat popular folk-band that managed to secure a  Summer's work at a folk club in  Cornwall. The six of us were given the keys to an old cottage in the village of Perranuthnoe, near  St Michael's Mount, in which to stay.
After a few weeks, the owner of the club was so pleased with our efforts that he gave us an evening off: he suggested a barbecue and provided us with crates of beer and some chops and sausages to cook on the fire.
As dusk approached we walked through the old wooden gate of the cottage, straight onto the shallow, sandy beach. The tide was out and there was the beginnings of a sea mist. The lead singer, Bob and I walked casually down to the water's edge, while John, the other guitarist, and our three girlfriends remained to tend the fire. It was Bob (a six foot six tall man who was frightened of nothing) who first spotted the figures: there, at the edge of the mist were three barely discernible outlines wading knee-deep, parallel to the shoreline. 

Bob and I squatted down together. Could they be smugglers? Some other band of desperate criminals, up to no good on this isolated fore-shore? As the trio drew level with us, they seemed for the first time to become aware of our presence: they turned towards us. It was at this moment that I shook Bob's arm and whispered hoarsely "They're not making a wake, Bob!" And indeed, the three figures approached the beach without the slightest disturbance of the water through which they were apparently wading. Suddenly the ravelling mist swirled and cleared: for the first time we could see the figures plainly at perhaps twenty metres range……..That sight will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life: the three 'men' (though they hardly deserved the appellation) can only be described as having the appearance of rotting corpses. Their empty eye-sockets stared vacantly towards the beach, while shreds of skin and flesh hung from their emaciated frames.
Someone screamed….it could have been Bob or I: it doesn't matter…..The sound galvanised the pair of us. We turned and ran up the beach, past the flaring  driftwood fire and into the house. From behind us we heard gasps of horror, and the panic-stricken footsteps of our companions. 

That night was spent in sleepless terror of what we had seen only too well on the deserted beach. The doors were locked and barricaded with furniture, but none of us dare surrender to sleep.  As the first light of day spread from the East, we summoned the courage firstly to peep through the thickly-curtained windows, then to open the door and venture outside. John and I had abandoned our acoustic guitars in our rush from the beach.  The neck of John's £300 Epiphone was warped and twisted beyond repair by the chill sea-mists: it somehow didn't seem to matter.

Later that day the club-owner dropped by. " Did you have a good evening, boys and girls?" he enquired 
" Not...disturbed at all?"

We finished the Summer season and went on to further musical success….but, by common consent, that night on the beach at Perranuthnoe was never discussed by any of us……….

As I said at the beginning: this IS a true story!

MY CHILDHOOD INCIDENT.

It was a long time ago now, about forty three years, when my brother and I were little boys of about three and four years old respectively. At that time we lived in an old cobble-stone cottage in Norfolk that is no longer there, a housing estate of bungalows having been built there for several years now. Anyway, on more than one occasion we were disturbed by something coming through our bedroom. This 'something' was so upsetting to me that I screamed my head off until mother came up to see what was wrong. My dad wouldn't come at first because he said my scream was so unearthly he was scared! I can remember being absolutely terrified. My mother asked us what was wrong and we explained that figures had come through our room.


Now, in actual fact, my brother can remember what we saw better than I can, even though he is the youngest. I can distinctly remember seeing a soft light moving around the room in a weird way and being utterly witless with fear, whereas my brother can remember seeing a rather large woman with dark red hair running through our room and disappearing through the far wall.
He knew she was running because he saw her cheeks puffing in and out. We also saw a medieval type of woman, at any rate, she must have been medieval because my mother got us to draw pictures of what we saw the next morning and they showed details of that period of dress we couldn't have known about 
beforehand. Bear in mind that each subsequent drawing we did got more scary with our childish imaginations, so it's fair to say that the first ones were probably the most accurate.


These showed a lady in a long dress with a 'wimple' on her head, this is a pointed hat that held a veil aloft and trailed it down her back. I can distinctly remember drawing these pictures. We saw these ladies on more than one occasion and I was terrified each time. It is because my brother and I both remember this that I think proves it was a genuine experience - and my mother and father can remember coming up to us of course. Besides, I can still recall the utter terror I felt at the time. 


Strangely, on one occasion I can vividly remember seeing a small, diamond shaped thing moving about between our beds, although this may have been part of something larger, such as a figure. Nevertheless, I thought it strange because it was visible in the darkness, and sort of pale in colour, but without emitting much light. It was weird.

After we moved away, the cottage was knocked down to make way for the new homes and whenever we passed the site we noticed that, as often as not, the bungalow on the site of the cottage always seemed to be for sale.

Anyway, it gives me Goosebumps just recalling this as it was definitely something real and very odd. No wonder the poor little boy that was me was so scared! Interestingly my brother was perhaps too young to fully appreciate what it was because when my mother came up the stairs the first time and asked us what was wrong my brother simply replied "I saw a shadow".

Thought you might like to know anyway buhbye.