by Tamara Stewart

Created on: June 30, 2008

There has always been one constant in my life, that is death. Since I was a child I somehow sensed we are not alone, and death is but another journey. I remember when I was two years old I used to wake up scared, frightened and crying for my mother to make them go away. The "them" I am referring to are the blue lights that use to hover over my bed. My mother would come running into the bedroom and try to comfort me. The only thing that settled me down was when she would put her soft, warm hand on my forehead. She would stroke her hand through my hair and in her soft and gentle voice, she would tell me everything was going to be all right. I remember she would sit with me, sometimes for hours, until I would fall asleep.

As I got a little older, about seven, I didn't see the blue lights anymore. I started seeing what looked like translucent clouds or mists that would float around me as if they were dancing and teasing me to join them in a merry chase. I remember so vividly how cold the room would get every time they appeared before me. The thermometer on the wall in the house could be reading seventy-five degrees, but the room felt like I was standing in a freezer. I didn't understand how this could be. When I told my family of my experiences, their reply was that my mind was playing tricks on me. When I was about eight years old, my mind began playing bigger tricks on me. The mists started speaking to me in hushed tones. I couldn't understand what they whispered to me, but I sensed urgency in them, and a need for something from me. I didn't know what. All I knew is I didn't want to see, feel, or hear them. I wanted to be a happy, normal, child who could laugh and play. Instead, I felt like there was something wrong with me. I started to withdraw from family and friends and I started to build a wall around myself. I started to suffer from anxiety and panic attacks. My parents took me to a child psychiatrist to try to help me. The psychiatrist said I was a lonely child who was making up imaginary friends" to get attention. I never went back.

When I was thirteen I had my first vision of a spirit. I was fast asleep when something woke me. I sat up in bed. I looked at the clock radio sitting on the bookshelf. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I rubbed my eyes to clear them, but there it was again. Not more than two feet away sitting perched on my bookshelf was a head. There was no body, just a head of a Native American staring back at me. On his head he wore a

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>