If you have not been following this story and watching it unfold on the Message Forum at www.birminghamuk.com
then you might be forgiven for asking why Michael's memoirs are interupted with phrases such as 'I will be back' and references to names of people he is referring to in an attempt
to answer their questions and concerns.
Our advice to you is to read the content and digest the facts. You can then refer to the Message Board and read the
individual comments and observations that have been made by the many visitors. There are also links within this E Book that
refer to comments made on other forums. It is an amazing insight into the human mind and the logic with which we investigate
our own feelings and reasoning.
You may finish this account with the opinion that this has all been an elaborate hoax. Michael refers to this several times in
his writings and whether author or spirit he does not seem to have any desire to provide individuals with any information other than
what he wishes to convey in his memoirs.
The story begins in response to a message posted on the Forums on Thursday Jan 08, 2004 11:12 am. The Post subject: Does anyone have any ghost stories of Birmingham.
Nothing much happened for a week. Then this fascinating story commenced on Thursday Jan 15, 2004 1:51 am with a message.
Post subject: Hello let me introduce myself. This is an account of what Michael Pennington had to say.
The Story Unfolds - As told by Michael Pennington
Hello Pat. This is an interesting subject. I don't really know where to begin but in some way you might be
able to assist me. My name is Michael Pennington. I have lived in a very old house in Oldbury for a number
of years now. It is by a canal and has been in a dilapidated state for over 30 years, having once been used
as a repair boatyard for those using the newly opened canals.
However, very recently it has been converted to an office. The change is amazing. Builders have restored
the old beams, the roof no longer leaks, the painters and decorators have done a wonderful job on the interior
and this is now a very very nice place to live. Anyway, I am rambling on here so I will try and get down to what
I was going to say.
I had no initial experience of computers but I heard the office workers every day and I would watch them
intensely on occasions. I really had no idea that I would be able to operate one. I am amazed at what has
happened to be honest. Technology is a fantastic thing. My computer experience has changed my very existence.
It started around Christmas time but I had better give you a little background information first. My story
goes back some time.
In March 1971 I was walking along the canal bank. New attempts were being made to turn the canals into
leisure areas and this particular walkway was in good order. It was a typical spring day and the weather
was bright and sunny. It was around 2 pm in the afternoon. I had just passed the doorway of this old boatyard
building, the very same one I live in now. Anyway, suddenly someone grabbed me from behind and I could hear
agitated voices and a sharp pain in my back. What followed was something I would not wish on anyone.
Essentially I was beaten to a pulp and thrown down the coal shaft of this particular property.
To this day I have no idea why they did this to me but it has affected me ever since and it is one of the
reasons why I have these psychic powers. Anyway, Birmingham is a busy place so I waited for someone to
pass the building so that I could shout and attract someone's attention. I was feeling weak and miserable
and in considerable pain. I drifted in and out of sleep for some time. I could feel that I was sitting in
a pool of my own blood. I was desperate to get out of there as the weather was getting colder and colder.
What happened next was really weird.
I think it was morning time when I found myself looking down on my own body. I nearly had a heart attack
but suddenly realised that for something like that to happen I would have to be actually in my own body.
There was a pool of blood around my lifeless figure. I looked stony cold and weird. It gave me the shudders.
I could see that I had been pushed down a deep shaft. I really did look a mess. I could see the extent of
the beatings I had taken and could hardly recognise myself.
Nervously inching forward I tried to find a way to climb out of the room I was in. I could see the light
coming in from the doors that I had been bundled through. They were about twice my height in distance
from the uneven floor of the poorly lit room. Only a ray of sunlight provided the means by which to
see and I could not fully comprehend the extent of the size of the room or make out the far wall.
At this point I realised that the wall had a rubbery sensation. The ground had that same creepy feeling to it.
In actual fact, I soon realised that I couldn't actually touch anything properly. It was then that I became
paranoid. This was not an out of body experience at all. I had actually died. I was dead. No more me.
But why was I thinking? Why was I even able to see my own lifeless corpse on the ground. Was I a ghost?
I can't begin to explain the strange feelings and sense of awe I had at the time. If I was a spirit then
what on earth was my purpose. What are ghosts supposed to do and was I destined to spend an eternity in
this dingy trap that had suddenly become my prison? I had no explanations. There was no logic or reason.
I hate to admit it. I cried. I did all the usual feeling sorry for myself, thinking about what relatives
and friends might be wondering. How would they find me? Would they ever find me? Was my will up to date?
The first few days were the worst. Stuck there. Nothing happening. No hope. No visitors. No nothing. It
was on the fifth day that the light was particularly strong and I could make out a staircase towards
the far end of the room. I hadn't ventured anywhere where I couldn't see. Crazy as it may sound I am
scared of the dark and I was worried about venturing into the dark unknown. As if I wasn't already there.
When I reached the staircase it had the same rubbery spongy feeling as the walls and floor but I could move
up it. I could actually tread each step and move upwards. I remember thinking at the time that this was a
ridiculous situation to be in. I mean ghosts are supposed to walk through walls are they not? Anyway,
imagine my absolute sense of joy when I found that I was on another floor and could walk round 5 rooms,
with offices and a repair yard. Then the sense of elation that I had when I discovered yet another floor
and more rooms and an area that had been used as living accommodation. You might think it strange that I
was so excited but how would you have liked to have remained in that dark dungeon below.
Time passed by. Each day was pretty much the same as the last. I memorised every object in the building and
would sit for hours and hours watching people from the window as they passed by the canal walkway. No one
ever found my body. I never ventured down there again. It depressed me. The thought of what had been me
slowly decaying in that dank and dark room. Gradually I was buried under rubbish and waste that people
kept throwing in through the open shaft. Some years back the foundations of the building were shored up
and concrete was poured into the room via a long tube from a barge carrying what must have been pre mixed
concrete. I suppose it was in an effort to stop the building becoming unstable. This property was built
around the 1850's.
My life, or lack of life, became a routine. I would always wonder why I was in this situation. If this happened
to everyone then why didn't I see other spirits or ghosts? Why couldn't I walk through walls or windows and get
outside. Having a wander around outside was my burning ambition. Being alone with all my thoughts was the worst
part of it all, and the fact that I could not touch or move anything was horrible. I had an old newspaper
sitting on the floor for years and could only read the pages that were open. Over and over again I have read it
until it faded and faded and became unreadable.
No one ever came. That was so lonely. For years no one paid any attention to the building at all. I don't
really know how long it was before the first visitor came. That was an experience I can tell you. It was
a rainy day and the two well dressed gentlemen turned up in one of those new fancy cars ( cars were getting
more and more modern and the skyline was changing ) with what I imagine was someone from the Council and a
surveyor. I listened with excitement as the clunking and battering of the door continued for several minutes
as they struggled to gain entry. All of a sudden the door burst open and I was face to face with the first
real people I had seen close up in years. It's no good asking me how many years because time had no meaning
for me. Well, not until recently.
Here I was, face to face with real live people again and what did I do? I made a bolt for the open door.
I remember the trauma of it all. The open space that they had just walked through was for me that same
rubbery touch and feel of the walls, the floor and everything else. My heart or perhaps I should say my
spirit, sank. No escape for me after all these years.
Still, I was going to make the most of this. I could clearly hear them talking as if I was actually alive.
They were surveying the building. New development was mentioned. Demolition or conversion was discussed.
I leapt up and down, screamed at them, tried to push them, anything to try and communicate. Nothing. It's
awkward but when you want people to talk and talk because you miss human contact they don't say much.
I mean this was the most exciting thing that had happened for years and they spent most of their time
with a tape measure and making notes.
The men were in the early fifties. Imagine my surprise when one of the men looked straight at me and
stared with a puzzled look. Seizing the opportunity I ran towards him shouting and screaming and trying
to push him, staring into his eyes, pressing my face right up close against his. He had this strange look
on his face but I know he couldn't see me. What could it be? What had made him look at me and why was he
acting in this way with a distracted look and lack of concentration. He was as rubbery and non touchable
as everything else and yet you couldn't pass through him like you could a closed door. I have never worked
out why I cannot walk outside through the walls and yet I can pass effortlessly around the interior of
the building and closed doors. Don't believe everything you read in ghost stories. Trust me, I know.
It was then that he surprised me. He came straight out with it. I remember the words as if he had just
spoken them. "Jack, this place gives me the creeps I keep feeling as if there is someone else here with
us" he said. Can you imagine how I felt. Somehow he had managed to sense or pick up something from me.
A sixth sense perhaps. I wish I could have been a poltergeist and capable of throwing something around
the room but years of trying had conditioned me to the fact that I had no control over anything and no
way of changing my unfortunate circumstances. Nothing else eventful happened that day. Jack dismissed
his friends comment with a callous and flippant remark about the building possibly being haunted.
Time and seasons passed again. I had hoped that things would have improved after their visit but nothing
changed. That is, until June 21st 2003. How would I know that? I will explain. One day the doors of the
building burst open. My whole world was interrupted by a band of seven men charging through the building
talking excitedly about materials and making lists and running hither and thither in all directions.
Things were about to change. My world became a hive of activity. A radio burst into life and I knew what year
and day I was in. Thirty years had passed. It had seemed like a thousand years. All of a sudden I was learning
things again. I was taking in information, watching real live people as they started to transform my home.
This was real excitement. The sound of the Brummie workmen, how I had missed that accent, how I had missed people.
My world was alive. Every day different and new people would turn up. Visitors came and went. They carried
strange little plastic and metal phones that had no leads or obvious connections. I know these are mobile
phones now but imagine my surprise at the time. Many objects were strange to me. I just hadn't seen them
before. These days I know as much as you do. Probably more. You will see why in due course.
Within just a couple of months I was wandering around a wonderful and bright new building. It was modern
and comfortable looking and designed in a design like I never realised existed. The lighting is so soothing
and natural and at nights I have light now which I never had before. They always leave a light on for me.
I am so grateful for that.
Without doubt this new chapter of events has transformed my existence. I actually know that I do exist.
The building work is finished now and there are 21 people that work from these offices. They are a
consultancy firm and I know every character and name. I know what the Manager gets up to after hours
in his office and I know that the cleaner is having an affair with the sales executive. The most
fascinating thing of all is watching what they do on their computers. I used to watch for hours
on end, day after day. I read everything that appeared on their screens. I would move from one
desk to another and absorb the information.
Janet appeared on the scene one day and without warning. This was strange because I used to sit in
on interviews and find out just who was starting or leaving. Janet must have had her interview
off site and I must have missed out on any conversation about her. The thing with Janet is that
she knows I am here. She is very receptive. She has a sixth sense but she is not fearful of my
existence. She comes from Dudley.
Janet used to comment about feeling the place was haunted when I got close to her. Her friends would laugh.
She soon gave up. Janet reads the news online and reads more interesting things than the others do. She
is not as busy as the others and has quite a bit of spare time. She has noticed over time that whenever
she is reading the news or anything of interest, she can feel my presence. At first she was nervous
and now she is comfortable. Imagine my surprise one day when I sat down beside her and she turned
towards me and said quietly "I know you are there, I can feel that you are around. You like the
news don't you". I was overjoyed. I suddenly felt recognised and no longer alone. Janet gave me
a whole new sense of hope and ambition. She was the one that finally taught me how to communicate.
How to communicate with the outside world in a way I never thought possible.
There are certain considerations and concerns I have about sharing this story with you and everyone else.
I mean for obvious reasons most people are going to think that this is all an elaborate hoax. I also would
hate to lead anyone down the garden path but all will be revealed. Be patient with me. I have so much more
to do. So much more to tell. I am using a laptop computer from the office. Janet is communicating with me
and I have proved to her that I am what I am. She is helping me to break through the boundaries of what
you would probably call the supernatural.
How did I find a way to create type? How do I access the internet. What is it I want? Just what is the reason
that I am here. What are ghosts supposed to do?. I know you will have your theories, your guesses. Some may
be right, others will be wrong. There will be surprises for you too. I am also not the only spirit mind
to be using the internet. There are hundreds of us. Thousands in fact.
I have to go, I have contact on ICQ. I am being called. Its nearly 2 am and this is my time. The time when
I am alive again. I have so much to do before the first arrival at 7am. I have to stop when they arrive
for work. My existence is so exciting these days. I don't sleep or eat so I can be busy 24 hours a day.
That's the part I love best. I wasted so much time sleeping when I was alive.
I nearly didn't post this article on such a public forum as this but your message struck a chord and it
seemed right to answer. I know I am announcing my existence which was not my intention but then it
doesn't really matter because it will be dismissed as a crank or a story writer.
Wait for me to come back. I will explain the rest of my story. Leave me a message if you wish.
Back soon.
Thank you Liss for you interest. Het spijt me, ik spreek geen Nederlands. Before I go on I will
answer your question. Janet cannot see me at all. In fact no one can see me. I have not found a way
to reveal myself and struggle to understand how it is that some people are able to see ghosts.
I am at a loss to understand why I cannot be seen at all. I have some hope that someone with special
equipment will be able to actually see me at some point in the future. Apparently ghosts give off
some form of electricity if we are to believe the claims and there are professional ghost hunters
who claim to be able to locate ghosts. If I am indeed a ghost. I will refer to myself as ghost
or spirit though. I have to accept that I am not alive. I do however exist.
Janet could only sense me but that will change as you will see further on. She still cannot see me.
The only time I have actually had anyone else sense me is when I had that visit some years back from
the surveyor and his colleague. This is strange in itself as there are many visitors to the office
and there are 21 full time workers here.
When they rebuilt the property they did not dig out the concrete that was poured into the dark cellar
I ended up in. I never venture down there and whilst some workers did go down there a few times I have
no idea what was done. There is no way in from the outside now as the hole I was pushed through has been
bricked up. The door that used to lead to the cellar area is no longer there. That doorway was bricked up
too. I think I have been sealed in my tomb.
If anyone could help me with this I would appreciate it. Am I here because my body has not been found?
If it is found and I have a decent burial then what happens to me afterwards? Some writings refer to the
spirit being confused and not knowing how to move on. Move on where?
With regard to my skills I will elaborate on this later. I have been a quick learner. It is easy to learn
quickly when you have so much time and you do not sleep at all.
One gentleman has already asked where the boatyard is. I fear I cannot reveal this at present due the
fact that I would not wish to cause this company a problem. I do not want people ghost hunting or turning
up making claims and statements. I need to find out more about my situation and discover a way of resolving
my predicament. At the moment I am actually enjoying the fact that I can communicate with people who are alive.
Anyway, I will continue where I left off last time.
One day I was at Janet's side reading about the latest news as she scrolled through the BBC web site.
Nothing was really much different than any previous day but I could see that Janet was in deep thought.
She suddenly whispered "Lets see what we can find out about ghosts and spirits". I was so pleased that
she had been inspired by my presence and that she was going to try and help me. She must have spent
hours and hours surfing the internet and we read many topics and some quite cranky stories about ghosts.
Some of the information is very informative and some is just downright ridiculous. I even read that only evil
folk or people who have done something wrong in life can possibly end up as ghosts. This was written by some
fool in Utah in the USA. Just what does he know.
Janet was engrossed in the subject and so was I. From that day on, Janet would spend around an hour a day
just on the subject of the supernatural. There is so much information out there. She is so considerate
she would always spend some time checking the news as well. Janet would even leave her laptop on at night
with a news ticker, a sports ticker and anything else she could find of interest so that I would not get bored.
She still does. She is also the person who made sure that a light was left on. The most frustrating thing
is that I could not thank her and would have to settle for her just knowing I was there. Or so I thought.
On September last, I had read all the information that was flashing up and down on the news tickers,
the repetitive scrolling was beginning to get a bit tedious. I looked carefully at the keyboard of Janet's
laptop and examined the machine in minute detail. Every little piece of information is so important to me.
If I had my time again I would study and be as hungry for knowledge as I am now. You never appreciate these
things when you are alive. I mean, I do not have anything else to do except hang around.
I was becoming acquainted with computers. After all I watch everything and everybody here at the office.
The laptop at the office is connected to a permanent internet connection. It is with BT Broadband and
the company has a server. This was what brought my attention to the flashing light showing wireless on.
Janet had somehow accidentally activated it when it wasn't necessary.
I moved my hand over the keyboard in deep thought and wished that I could operate this marvel of technology.
The same spongy touch and rubbery feel. I sighed as only a ghost can sigh. It was then that I noticed what I
thought was a slight movement in the mouse cursor. I ran my hand over the keyboard and willed it to do something.
Again I was sure the mouse cursor flickered. I pressed both my hands on the laptop and pushed as I have pushed
and pulled on things thousands of times in the past. The internet explorer browser opened. For the first
time since my death I actually felt something physical. I felt a kind of electrical charge pass through
my non existant body. I was astounded. Something phenomenal had happened here.
After hours of experimenting I found I could place my finger, that is, place what I understand as my finger
and where my finger would have been if I was human, on the mouse pad and move the cursor around the screen.
The wireless connection indicator was flickering as if a signal was present. I was frantic with excitement
and desperation. All night I moved the cursor in short jerky movements backwards and forwards across the desktop.
By early morning I had mastered how to open the internet browser and other programs on the laptop. It now
occurred to me that the wireless connection might have something to do with my new found ability in being
able to make the laptop function. What if Janet noticed it on and decided to turn it off. I was fighting
against time. I needed to do something.
I opened a word document. Painstakingly slowly I mastered how to make a letter appear on the open document.
It is hard to convey to you the pride and sense of achievement that I felt. For over thirty years I could
only watch and observe. Suddenly something had given me the chance to do something wonderful that I had never
thought possible in my wildest dreams. Ghosts do dream you know. Well, in a sense, although we are awake all the time.
I had to stop Janet from cutting off this connection. I started to try and write her a note. How could I explain.
It was taking me too long. She would be coming in to work soon. Each letter was taking me ages. Another astounding
discovery - I had never until now worried about time, since my death. I was acting all human again.
What if Janet treated the note as a cheap prank and ignored my message. How could I convince her that I was
here and that what she had sensed was trying to communicate with her. Imagine how you would feel. I had no
choice and no time. I wrote,
Do not turn of wireless switch. Your friend Michael Pennington died March 19th 1971. Please please plea
That was as far as I got. I heard her unlocking the door and turning off the alarm. She was soon at her desk.
I would have held my breath but…. Well you know…. Janet put her handbag down beside the chair and went straight
to make a coffee. I was worried. I thought she would have seen the message straight away. When she came back she
stopped in her tracks and stared at the screen. She had been last to lock up and the first to open up the offices.
I was banking on that fact. Suddenly she smiled, turned, and walked back down the corridor. Something was wrong.
I followed her to the alarm control panel. She was checking when the last entry had been made into the premises.
Her face was a picture when she realised that no one but herself had been in there since the alarm was last set.
Back to the computer we went. I saw her worried and confused. I didn't like that but this was so important.
She sat at her desk and stared at the message. The open word document with its message that had taken me so
long to write. Was she convinced? Probably not. I didn't know.
Suddenly she typed in a message under my text
Do not turn of wireless switch. Your friend Michael Pennington died March 19th 1971. Please please plea
This is ridiculous I don't even know why I am bothering to type this but if you are there and I feel that I can
sense something please reply
I had to do something fast. I concentrated, pressed into the spongy rubbery void over the keyboard and……..thankfully
it appeared. I had typed the letter h.
Janet reeled back on her chair. She was in deep shock. I was worried that she might switch the device off or delete
the document thinking that she had a virus. She started typing. Over a period of 25 minutes this is the result of
our first encounter.
Do not turn of wireless switch. Your friend Michael Pennington died March 19th 1971. Please please plea
This is ridiculous I don't even know why I am bothering to type this but if you are there and I feel that I can
sense something please reply
h
I don't know how that happened but I am sure this is not happening
Y
I sense you are present but I am feeling silly someone is playing a prank on me
N
You mean no. You are a very slow typist
Y
Is that really you. Are you really called Michael Pennington
Y
Are you dead
Y
You want me to leave the wireless switch in the on position
Y
Is this how you are able to communicate with me
Y
You are obviously having problem with speed of type. I am going to run a virus check on my computer as I am
not wholly convinced that this is for real.
Y
Janet got up off her chair, ran her fingers through her hair and looked stressed. People were starting to arrive.
She had to be careful. I knew that I was on my first step to being able to communicate with the living. Everything
had changed. This was a miracle.
Janet minimised the word document and went about her work but it was obvious that she found it hard to concentrate.
For once and to add to my frustration she had a busy day. I could hardly contain my excitement. I wanted to
communicate. It would be impossible whilst people are in the office.
Janet had no chance to follow things up. She tried to stay late after work but Peter offered her a lift. He is
the accountant. I suddenly went off him. Janet left the word document open and the wireless connection live.
I wrote a message for her to collect in the morning
Janet, I know you find this hard to believe but please believe that this is me. I need to communicate with you.
Something wonderful happened last night and I think it may have something to do with the wireless connection
on your laptop. I am not sure but I think it has a relevance.
Typing a message is so slow. I cannot type like you type. I seem to have to concentrate on what I want and press
what would be to you almost an imaginary keyboard. I press and concentrate and it works. I am getting better at it.
I am mastering how it is working.
I have just visited the BBC web site and read the news on my own. Check your favourites I have bookmarked
an article on communicating with ghosts. I really want you to read it. Please try and understand that this
is really happening.
www.utahghost.org/ghosts.html
Janet I know you sense my being. You are the only one to recognise my existence. Do you realise how
important that is for me. I need your help.
Do you mind if I create an email account with Yahoo on your computer?
I look forward to seeing you in the morning as I always do.
Yours
Michael
That night I read about electrical energy. I hunted the internet for information. I need data. I need lots of it.
I have to comprehend what has happened to me and find a solution. I already have some ideas on what I need to
do next.
I am being called. Another spirit is present. I can't ignore him. I will come back. Wait for me to come back.
I will explain the rest of my story and tell you about how I walked out of the building last month. Leave me
a message if you wish.
The Learning Curve - Michael and Janet
I am really a little anxious about continuing with my memoirs. I hope people are not becoming too concerned
with my plight. Please rest assured I am in good spirit and no longer have periods of depression or anger.
I no longer feel lonely or desperate. Things have changed. I feel I am being guided.
You will remember that I left a message for Janet. It was my first real message to her of any content.
I had no idea how she would react. If something like this had happened to me when I was alive I think it
might have driven me to insanity. I have always been a sceptic. The idea of people wandering around trying
to make contact with ghosts and the supernatural has always been a subject of fascination and humour for me.
Oh how ill informed I had been. If only I had known. If only I had known what I know now.
The alarm tone sounded. The usual clinking of door catches and keys. Janet had arrived. She was really early.
It was only 07:15 in the morning. I was so glad to see her. I always feel so comfortable in her company.
She is kind and considerate and always thinks about my welfare. Strange that, I mean what welfare assistance
does the state provide for us? Ghosts and Spirits have their own problems too you know.
Janet spoke out loud, " Good morning Michael"
I wish I could have replied.
"Let me just get a coffee and then we can sit down and discuss things before anyone arrives", she said.
She arrived at her desk and read my note. She didn't waste any time replying. She also knew that she had no
need to type a message to reply to me. She only needed to talk.
" Michael, I've thought about this all weekend. On Friday I could hardly sleep for thinking about it. I know it
takes you a long time to reply to me by typing so I'll ask you a few questions and you can reply in text on the
laptop. I see that you have improved your typing skills already since your last attempt. Have you been practising
all night?
I do believe you. The fact that I have seen your typing appear all by itself, the fact that I can sense you and
the message that you have left here for me clearly tells me that you are indeed a Michael Pennington.
Furthermore, I have found your records at the library. I spent all day Saturday morning looking.
You are a hard person to find. I suppose it was a long time ago".
She continued………
"They never did find you did they. I really want to understand you and I hope that you can trust me.
If you type out just what you want and guide me I will only ever take any action based on what you
explicitly request of me. Please understand that. I think you do. By the tone of your message
I think you know much more about me than I know about you and I would like to get to know you better
and to help you. Of course I will open up a yahoo account for you. Lets do that now "
Janet created a Yahoo account for me. I will not use this to respond to requests to reveal my identity
on the internet or enter into direct email correspondence with the living unless I am sure that they are
like Janet and can sense my existence.
Janet then leaned back in the chair, moved away from the laptop and waited. I realised she was waiting for
me to respond. I seized the opportunity and typed the following;
Janet . Thank you so much.
She must have been bored stiff watching each letter slowly appear on the screen. No doubt though, I was
already a lot faster than I had been. She wasted no time. I think she was conscious of the fact that
others would be turning up for work soon. She really had grasped the situation and there appeared to
be no doubting her belief in me.
"Michael", she said. She said it in such a way as someone who might be taking charge and control over a
situation. Like a commander about to issue a set of important instructions to his troops or a school mistress
about to tell a school boy to report to the headmaster.
" You need to write me a list about yourself. You need to tell me everything. Things such as Why do you think
that you are here. Why do you think that I can sense your presence and others cannot. How did you die? What
exactly happened to you. What do we do now and how best do you think I can help you. Are your remains near
here? Do you want me to contact anyone on your behalf?"
A sound at the door, the office staff were arriving. Janet shuffled her paperwork around the desk and whispered.
"OK I will leave the word document open. Just write a summary about what has happened to you and minimise the
document if anyone comes to my desk in my absence. I will keep an eye on what is going on. Write everything
down and don't miss anything out. Lets communicate Michael. Lets get to know each other".
Peter was in the room. Others were shuffling around too. Janet had considerately drawn up another chair and
moved the laptop to the left hand side of the desk. She re positioned her paperwork and in tray and sat at my side.
There she was, creating space for my being. This was full recognition of my presence. I felt so special. This was
space which I didn't need of course. Someone can sit on me, through me, it really doesn't matter. However,
it was the recognition that was important.
Janet worked through the day and fussed around, checking every now and then to see what progress I had made.
She did this carefully and was able to read snippets between her work and then return, catch up and go over
the information I was giving her. Essentially I was telling her everything I have told you. Right up to my
first communication with her. It was a long and laborious process but it had to be done.
I was in my element. I was a recognised person if you could call me a person. I do hate words like spirits
and ghosts. I mean I do not have a body or physical presence. Fine. However, it seems unfair to label me
with ghost and spirit and classify me as something weird. The thing is, I suppose this is inevitable, as
even in the supernatural world we class ourselves under these labels too. For want of a better name I suppose.
By the end of the day I had half completed my experiences on paper and ended my days work with a note to
Janet explaining that I did not, at this stage, want any part of this getting any further than for her
use only. She confirmed that this was acceptable. Over the next two days I completed my essay and exchanged
several long messages with Janet. On the third day she had decided that since I already knew how to
communicate through a word document, I would be able to use ICQ an internet chat applet, to keep in
contact with her at home too. Isn't technology a wonderful thing.
Janet spent the next week investigating my case. She traced members of my family that were still living.
This was a painful experience for me, and she knew it. She would stay after work and recite details and
names and addresses. We would sit there for hours with her talking and me replying with an open word
document sitting on the laptop in front of us. We discussed my body in the basement. Being alive, her
first instinct was to suggest that we got it exhumed, but I explained my concerns about this. She asked
me if I wanted to invite a medium round to the office to try and make contact with me but I told her this
was completely unnecessary at this stage as I didn't want some lunatic running around their offices with
a ouija board and chanting. She thought that was really funny and we laughed some. The real reason it was
so unnecessary is that through Janet I was communicating already.
Janet started to experiment. She had taken on the task with such enthusiasm. She was doing everything she
could to help me out. She was hell bent on catching the criminals that had killed me all those years ago.
I told her I thought that this would be an impossible task and that I hadn't even seen them. It had all
happened so quickly.
This was before I met Jack of course. More on him later but he is the presence in the building next door,
an old engineering shed, recently converted to a repair bay for motorcycles. I hadn't realised that he had
died there some 50 years before I had, and that he had seen the whole incident all those years ago. If a
human had been a witness I would guarantee that the details would have been lost or forgotten but Jack,
poor Jack, all those years, Jack was the key to their identity. I was only days away from finding out.
We had lived together side by side for all those years and he had tried so hard to make contact with me
in the past. Anyway, more on Jack later.
Janet continued to stretch the boundries of both her imagination and mine. We turned off the wireless
connection on the laptop and realised that it definitely had something to do with me being able to
access and operate the machine. Janet came into the office one day with a handheld palm top computer.
She carefully set it up and got me to try to use it. Again, we found that with wireless on, the unit
would work. With wireless off it would not function for me. This needs to be investigated as I still
have no answers for why this works. It was at this stage that we found that the remote control infra
red would access the Television and enable me to change the channels from the palm top. I know you are
saying that this is no big deal and that most palm tops do this. No big deal? It was a huge big deal for me.
Janet could now leave a TV running in the training room and I could sit and watch it. Not only sit and watch
it but turn it off and on and change channels. That's a big deal I can assure you.
The next milestone in my complete change of lifestyle or perhaps we should invent a completely new word
here and refer to spiritstyle, was to experience leaving the building. This happened by accident and
caught me completely unawares. Every day when Janet went to leave I would accompany her downstairs
and politely see her off the premises. She knew this. She knew in the same way that I waited for
her in the mornings, that I was escorting her as far as I could in the evenings. It was just
one way I could express my appreciation for her and let her know that I cared for her.
This particular evening was no different. I followed her down the stairs and waited for her to set the alarm.
She opened the exit door. I have no idea why I tried it but I did. The results were not expected. I stepped
outside. Shock horror. I was out. I was in shock. Suddenly I was also afraid. Janet had locked the door.
I met with the usual spongy and rubbery feeling that I was used to with barriers or sold objects but I
was on the wrong side. I was outside of the building.
Janet was walking away from me at a brisk pace. She had announced her goodbye and she was walking away from
the building. What was I to do? Should I follow her? Was that wise? What if I couldn't get back or I got lost.
No, the best thing to do would be to stay here until tomorrow morning and then try and get back in.
Any spirit will tell you that time is not really of much relevance under normal circumstances. However,
when things become interesting and change with such magnitude as they have for me, I found that faced
with such a position I was now waiting for time to pass quickly so that I could get back inside to the
laptop, and not only that, but I would miss Coronation Street as well. It was all so annoying. Why had
I been so foolish. What if I couldn't get back in. How had I been able to get out in the first place.
So many things were unexplained. And yet, for over 30 years this had been my ambition. Nothing made
much sense any more.
I had been spoiled. I was used to my creature comforts and my PC and Television. I wanted them back.
I decided to explore. I wasn't going to venture far. Just edge round the parameters of the building
and lets see what I can find. I kept close to the wall and edged round the sides of the building.
I reached the canal path. I know that there is nothing that any living person can do to harm me
or cause my death. I had no reason to be afraid but if I am honest it gave me the creeps.
I passed the bricked up area that had been part of my unfortunate demise and reached the far edge
of the building. I looked out over the reflection in the canal water. It was a strange experience.
I thought how nice it would be if I could just experience cold or warmth again or feel the touch
of water against my skin even though that is impossible.
The next building had also been smartened up. It was the first time I had seen it. The windows in the
office do not allow viewing of the front or back of the building next door. The only viewing is the canal
at the rear, the road at the front and a small section of the area outside the main door. It was apparent
that people were also working in this building too. They were working late. They were still here.
The double doors were wide open and I looked inside and saw two mechanics servicing a smart looking motorbike.
I moved closer for a better look. What happened next is something I shall never forget as long as I have the
ability to think and communicate.
As I drew close to the first mechanic I saw a flash of white light and a searing dragging kind of motion
pulled at where my innards would be if I actually had any. It was like an electrical charge and I actually
did feel it. Suddenly it struck me again, and again. It was drawing something from me. I was reeling with
astonishment and felt confused and afraid. I was sure it was weakening me. I had to escape. I made it to
the open doors but not before I had been struck twice again. I am sure that I heard a kind of gasping
and a hissing of air as I passed through the doorway. I stared back in disbelief. The workers were
still attending to the motor bike as if nothing had happened.
Everything was normal, and yet it was not. Something or someone was lurking in there. Could it be that
one of the men had sensed my presence? This did not explain the strange sensations I had felt. It was
then I noticed a faint aura standing by the open doors. The shape of a person, a small and frail person,
yes I was sure, was that ………………………there was someone there. Had I finally found someone else like me? But
if we were alike then why these strange feelings and why no sense of communication. Just blinding light
and a kind of electrical vibrating sensation. Almost as if my very soul had been touched.
The apparition remained in view all through the night. Long after the doors had been closed and the men had
gone I could see the shape still lingering there. The image was no less weaker for the doors being closed.
It even moved and shuffled around, returning to same point at the doors as if in anticipation of my return.
I watched it in wonder for most of the night.
At half light I started to edge my way back towards the building entrance. I was not so concerned about
getting back in. I had been able to wander around and even enter the other building. I had to make sure
that I didn't'get trapped in such a place though, or indeed anywhere else, for fear of losing contact with Janet.
I was even careful to not venture close to the canal edge for the worry of falling in and spending an age
wandering along the bottom of the canal for eternity. I wondered how many lost souls were under the water
and if things like that actually did happen. I am sure I saw another aura on the far bank of the canal.
It seemed to be waving to me. This was unnerving. I wanted the comfort of my home. I had never seen
these things before. I used to look out of the window and never saw these things. Was the presence
of a physical barrier such as a window pane stopping me viewing such things? No one ever opened
the windows at the back of the building. I had no explanation for this. At the time how was I to
know that I had just met Jack.
Janet arrived half an hour early. She was making a habit of this. It gave us the chance to talk and
catch up on what was happening before any visitors or staff arrived. I had used ICQ with her twice so far and
we would use this chat medium many times in the future.
As Janet arrived at the door she had quickly sensed that I was at her side and a sharp intake of breath indicated
this fact to me. "What are you doing here" she whispered, sounding confused, as she fumbled to open the door.
" I never sense you outside the building, you must tell me what has happened". She opened the door, entered
and held the door open for me. I passed through with ease. She closed the door. We both headed straight for
the laptop.
Little did we know that we were about to open the doors to a whole universe of active and thriving supernatural
activities.
There is so much more to tell. I will be back. Jack is here. He says hello. He is a bit concerned that I am
giving you too much information. There are reasons why he is concerned. It is difficult to explain. When
you know how to contact others in the supernatural world you realise just how much false information is
given in the media and in story books. It is all based on supposition. The fact is that only a spirit
can possibly know that he is communicating with another spirit. A human can understand but cannot possibly know.
There is one thing that sets us apart that cannot be explained in any book or literature. I wish I could
actually convey this in more detail but I find myself completely lost for a way of explaining it to the living.
It's a bit like trying to explain to someone in a black and white world, the colour green. If you have never
experienced colour and do not know what colour is then how do you explain to someone what colours are.
We are watching television tonight. We will communicate. We can't talk to each other. I can't see him
clearly, only an aura, but its enough to know where he is and that he is here by my side. He has learned to
type. He also used the laptop. He has a story of his own but that is up to him to tell. I am just grateful
for the extra company.
Until soon. May your guardian angel be with you - always.
Michael
The arrival of Jack and meeting the family
Thank you Melanie and Anna for your observations and kind words. I am beginning to feel that I will be raising
more questions than providing you with answers. I do hope that this is not the case. Also my thanks to Faeden.
It is gratifying that you devote so much of your valuable time to our cause. To the guest that reacts as I
would have reacted I can only agree with you. It is only the benefit of hindsight, and a number of long
years in waiting, that has changed the way I think.
Listener - You do have access to spiritual beings online. You can't expect them to come straight out
and admit to being ghosts. The internet is full of anonymous and faceless beings, both human and spirits.
Humans far outway the number of spirits that you are likely to encounter. You have no way of knowing who
you are communicating with. In any event, if I were to meet you online and tell you that I was a ghost
I would most certainly be dismissed as a nutcase and you would never chat to me again. There are a few
cases of contacts where the spirit has confessed which have led to disbelief and ridicule. You are quite
correct in your assumption that they do not have mortal friends. If they did they would find things much
easier. I am so fortunate in that I have found a connection through Janet to the real world.
Guest - There are many things that do not add up. There are two Jacks mentioned in my memoirs, a lady named
Janet and myself. I am the only the only one with a first name that does not begin with a J. Apart from
Peter of course. Hardly mind blowing but I am sure that someone will pick up on this. It has no relevance of course.
And Pat, at last, I am so pleased to hear from you. You are the cause of my postings. You provided the inspiration
for me to document my traumatic past. I am however not an actor. I think I would die of stage fright if I were
to appear in front of an audience. As for being dishy I really think that you would find my remains most
unappealing. I will continue with my memoirs.
When I explained to Janet what had happened she was astounded. She was convinced that a presence was haunting
the building next door. This is not an unreasonable assumption. I also told her about seeing another apparition
on the opposite side of the canal bank. She decided that she would leave work at the normal time and pay a visit
to the company next door. After all, if she could sense my presence there was every likelyhood that she would
be able to detect something at another location.
In between breaks and at every opportunity Janet and I passed each other messages and planned how we would make
contact with the spirit in the next building. How would she explain to the occupants why she was calling round?
How would she actually make contact with the presence? Were we leading each other up the garden path? We discussed
in great detail how we would make our first approach. Much of this would be based on my own experience of how a
spirit can react to its environment. Janet would have to make a good excuse as to why she was calling and
discretely leave a message for whatever was present in the building next door. We decided on a message to
introduce ourselves to the presence. The message was printed on an A4 piece of paper, in bold type, and
read as follows:
Important - Please Read
My name is Janet. I am trying to make contact with you. Yesterday you were visited by a spirit named Michael
Pennington. I have reason to believe that you are aware of a supernatural visit yesterday. That presence was
Michael Pennington with whom I am in communication with. He experienced a violent death in 1971. I am not
an experienced medium. I would just appear to be receptive to sensing the after life. I do not know how
I can establish contact with you without the use of a computer. I do not even know if you are aware of
what a computer is. I need to know if there is any way that you can meet up with Michael or find a way
of communicating with him or myself. Michael is in the building next door. Can you visit this building?
Are you able to leave your building? Michael has found a way of using a computer to communicate with me.
I want to find out if I can help you in the same way. I hope that we are able to establish contact.
We didn't know what else to write. The idea was to leave the note in the building next door so that the presence
could read it. The difficulty would be in actually getting the occupant to reply and to establish contact.
If the presence was trapped in the same way that I had been trapped and without the means or knowledge to
access a computer then our plan was flawed. It was all so hit and miss.
Janet would have to be very careful how she approached the business owners and what she would say. We agreed
that she would be making an enquiry about getting her brothers motorbike serviced. The scene was set. We
waited with anticipation for the office to close.
Before I continue with the results of Janet's first encounter with Jack it is only right to comment on certain
myths and pre conceptions that appear to exist with regard to the supernatural. I am no expert on this but
I do have the benefit of being in touch with other spirits who are all just as confused as I am as to why
certain sightings and photographic evidence just adds to the confusion with regard to the supernatural.
As I see it. If spirits have had the same experience as I have had, and are desperate to make contact, without
the means by which to establish a line of communication, then why would they waste time making silly ghost
noises and appearing as apparitions with the sole aim of trying to frighten people. This is assuming that
they are even capable of making noises and appearing to humans. I certainly seem incapable of that. I would
have made myself known long ago if this was possible. If ghosts and spirits are so lost and confused as to
what is happening to them they would be as desperate as I was to try and establish a sensible channel or
medium of contact. The whole idea of ghostly wailings and spooky haunted houses does not appear to make any sense.
I have also contacted many spirits who you would probably class as poltergeists. These are not necessary evil
people at all. Imagine the frustration of years of trying to communicate. If you found a way of moving objects
or throwing them around a room to attract attention then surely this does not sound so unreasonable considering
the circumstances. It merely helps you to confirm your existence. It is a way of attracting attention. My friend
in Leeds would have been classed as a poltergeist. He has explained his amazing ability to actually move and
project objects around his environment. This would appear to work in the same way as I am able to project
letters on to a document on a computer. It must be based on some form of energy. The other interesting
observation is that, the older the presence, by this I mean the time since death, the higher the ability
to carry out these actions.
Is this to do with each individual spirit's energy levels? The method of death does not appear to have any
real significance with respect to each individual's abilities. I have yet to meet any spirit that admits to
making wailing noises or confirms that they are able to be seen in human form haunting a building. Janet
and I are to experiment with this concept. She is going to attempt to take some photographs of me with a
digital camera. We will try this on Saturday. I doubt anything will come of it. I cannot see how this will
work if she cannot see me without a camera. I should be more positive about it. Everything is worth investigating.
This leads us to another interesting fact. The number of ghost sightings and paranormal activity would appear
to have dropped with the advance of technology and the introduction of computers. My friend in Leeds no longer
projects objects around a room and has no wish to frighten the living. He is now in communication with others
and has no need of this method of attracting attention to himself. He told me of a rather humorous experience
he had when he was visited by an exorcist. Some vicar from the local church. I cannot say too much or someone
will delve into his situation. Suffice to say that it did not stop him creating havoc for a number of years.
He does admit to a mischievous side of his personality by occasionally moving a coffee cup or a book to draw
attention to his existence. That is about the extent of his activities today. I can understand this. For my
part I am now capable of affecting electrical appliances. More on this later.
If it has taken me over 30 years to find out that a computer is a tool that can by used by the after life,
and is being used, I can assure you, then what of the thousands of other lost souls who have yet to discover
this channel of communication. The resources required to track down every spirit or ghost and train the lost
souls to open a communication channel is beyond comprehension. Although there are now many of us that are
communicating I feel that we have merely scratched the surface of what must be one of the most significant
breakthroughs in the history of mankind. Who knows where this will all lead us and what the future holds.
Are we real? We obviously exist. But what are we? Just what is our purpose. I ask myself this question over
and over again. Someone has to help us. It is all so frustrating. I digress. On with the details.
The day was drawing to a close. Janet was preparing to leave the office on her mission. I typed one last message
on the open word document.
Good Luck Janet. "Thank you Michael", she said.
I watched as she left. Janet is perfectly capable of filling you in with all the details of how she went about
her task but she asked me to convey this to you from my perspective and record exactly what happened when she
returned. I do however feel it necessary to explain what happened to her so that you can understand what
actually took place and how contact was established. Before I forget I would like to inform the people that
administer the message board that at some point in the near future Janet will be providing you with more
evidence and has agreed to join the message board. For the moment there is so much more to tell you before
we reach this point. There is a right time and place for everything. The full details have not yet been
revealed to you.
By all accounts Janet carried out her mission with military precision. This is how she explained it to me.
Janet recalls the event - I was nervous. I am not the best communicator in the world. My personality
is much more suited to research and study than dealing with people. I am an administrator, a paper shuffler
by trade. I prefer the company of close friends and it takes some time for me to formulate relationships
with others so I was not looking forward to having to be devious and lying my way through the forthcoming encounter.
Nevertheless this was an important task and not something that I could ignore. The premises next door are
operated by two individuals in their thirties. They are a struggling small business and eke a living from
repairing motorbikes and stocking spares. They are friendly enough and were eager to help with my enquiry
over my imaginary brothers motorbike.
The moment I entered the open doors I sensed a presence. It wasn't something that gradually became apparent.
It was strong and powerful from the start. I just knew something was watching my every move. There is no
other way of explaining it. Everyone knows the feeling of being watched. This is the best way I can
describe it.
I whittled on about costs and enquired about a rough price for a motorbike service. I felt completely stupid
when they asked what make and model my brothers motorbike was. Bad preparation, but easily overcome by acting
in true tradition like a dumb blonde that was clueless on the subject of motorcycles.
I sensed the presence was extremely close to me. I needed to leave my message in a prominent place or find
some way of showing it to the spirit I knew was watching my every move. I also had to be careful that I
didn't leave it around so that it could be seen by the two mechanics. After all, I had signed it with
my name and given information that I was in the building next door. At best, if they found it they would
dismiss me as a lunatic or weirdo and at worst they would come calling and ask to speak to my boss.
I asked them if I could use the toilet. They were slightly embarrassed and one commented that it was not the
most tidy environment and one of them escorted me down a long and dimly lit corridor to the latrine. You
could see he was embarrassed about the state of the building and its grubby walls and floor were what you
might expect from a working small repair centre. I have been in worse places. It wasn't so bad.
After checking that the light worked and fussing around checking that the WC had toilet paper,
the mechanic shuffled off back down the corridor to the main work area, leaving me alone standing
by the toilet door on a small wooden landing with an exposed and poorly lit light bulb with which
to see. I knew that the presence was close to me. I could feel that it must have been right by my side.
I hastily took out the document and held it up in front of me. I prayed that I wouldn't be visited by
either of the mechanics and that they would not find me standing there under the light holding up a
notice in front of me. Men in white coats sprang to mind as I contemplated the scenario.
I stood there for what seemed like an age. I particularly remember waiting twice as long that it would take
for someone to read the notice in an effort to make sure that what I was trying to convey was understood.
I put the notice back in my pocket, entered the toilet, flushed it and turned off the light.
As I walked back down the corridor I was aware that I was being followed. I bid a hasty farewell to the
mechanics who had suspected nothing and walked out through the open door. I breathed a sigh of relief.
It was only when I was half way back to my office that I felt the presence again. The feeling of being followed.
I looked back but instinctively knew I would not see anything. I desperately needed to get back into the office.
I needed to communicate with Michael. Was another spirit following me? Was it friendly? What would happen if
it met Michael and got into my place of work. I was afraid and yet at the same time excited.
Janet has documented this encounter in more graphic detail for her own records but I have relayed the
content to you so that you can understand how what happened actually took place. From my point of view
the results were nothing short of spectacular.
I was waiting by the door for Janet to return. The minute the door opened I realised that her visit
had been a success. That same flash of light and gut wrenching experience as an aura of something
past me by and made straight down the office corridor. Jack had arrived.
There is much more to tell. How did we get Jack to contact us?. I think you already know the answer.
How did he manage to leave the building so easily? This is due to Janet and is not a common trait in all humans.
She is a rare individual although there are others just like her. There are some mediums who are aware of their
gift and some just normal individuals who do not wish to advertise themselves. The good thing about Janet
is that she has no wish to advertise her services as a medium or to profit from her experience. She is
just pleased to be of assistance to us and to struggle to understand what is happening and how these
things work. It is a learning curve for all of us. Nothing is set in concrete. Well, apart from my remains.
I trust Janet implicitly.
Whether you are a sceptic or an interested reader, no matter. I hope that you will learn something from this.
If you do not then I have wasted my time. If sometime in the future you feel that you are not alone then please,
do not dismiss this feeling. Experiment. However stupid you may feel it is worth the effort. Keep your findings
to yourself until you are sure that what you are experiencing has substance. When you are sure, tread carefully,
understand that many would not believe you and that there is no gain in making a fool out of yourself.
If you do understand, you are a gifted person. You are one of a small minority of genuine individuals
that has a most wonderful gift and you are of benefit to others. Always act with respect to your contacts
wishes. Confirm with them any action you may take and consider the implications from your contacts point
of view. This is the best advice I can give you.
I have things to do. I will come back later. Thank you for being so understanding. I wish you nothing but
good will. Enjoy your life and live it to the full. Being alive is a wonderful thing. Breath deep.
Press your hand against your heart. You are alive. This is all that matters. No matter how depressed
you may feel sometimes, the worries of finance or personal relationships are things that can be overcome,
and, often with regard to material things, are of little relevance. Live for today. You never know what
tomorrow may bring.
Hello again my friends. Anna, my occupation was that of manager of a small textile firm. There is little
else to occupy ourselves other than watching TV and using the PC. Both Jack and I correspond with each
other by type and appreciate each others company. We are very limited of course in what we can do and
as we do not eat or drink and cannot travel, there is a very limited range of options available to us.
That having been said, the internet provides a wide range of activities and the chance to correspond
with others in a similar situation to ourselves. I am not complaining at all.
Ben is right to ask what I did for 30 years before the TV and the PC. That was a miserable existence.
I couldn't really do anything then except watch out of a window. The nights were awful. Wandering
around in the dark , pacing round and round in the same timeless circles. I would never wish to
return to that. I try to put those dreadful days aside and not think about them.
Badger - thank you for the title. I doubt that there will be a book but I thank you for your suggestion.
I have met several poltergeists. I do not really like the term poltergeist as from my experience
I only know that there are good spirits and bad spirits and that the term poltergeist is applied
to spirits or ghosts that are merely trying to attract attention to themselves rather than being
demons or bad people. However, as is the case in the real world, there are good and bad and the
nature of the presence or spirit will very much depend on what type of a person they were in real
life. I suppose that you could say, if someone was evil in real life and ended up as a spirit,
it is unlikely that they will be any different. By that I mean they would still be evil. Similarly so,
a good person would remain a good spirit. Much of this is indeed in the mind of humans. The human
imagination manufacturers demons and bad spirits. As an example, a person will take a walk in the
countryside on a hot summers day and admire their surroundings and be thankful that they are enjoying
such beauty. Take that same person and place them in the same spot at 2 am at night and they will not
be very happy, they will often be afraid and imagine strange and creepy happenings when in reality
nothing has changed. The only difference is that the temperature is cooler and the sun has gone in.
Humans should have more fear of fellow humans and not from the supernatural.
Deb - My family has visited the building. I will tell you about this tomorrow. The managing Director
of the company that Janet works for is now aware of the situation. They have been very helpful if
not sceptical. The police or the firm has not actually seen my typing. This would be hard to justify.
But they have information that is sufficient to convince them that Janet is telling the truth. They are
just very intrigued as to how she obtained it. I will provide more information tomorrow.
Jack has no wish to post. He has no interest in posting to the living. He says he has nothing to gain by
doing so and feels that I am wasting my time. He is amused by my writings. He does understand that things
are different for me and that it was important for me to establish contact with my family.
This is a very time consuming business answering all these questions. Many of them would be answered
if I just continued my story. Listener I will endeavour to provide photographs, if indeed they actually
show anything. I have seen many examples on the internet but I am sure that most of them are fakes.
They do not seem to be logical. The orb or images of light does seem to make more sense. We will
find out after Saturday I suppose. I notice that Faeden has also requested the photographs.
Deb - I do not know is the answer to that. There are documents to show that a different firm to
the one you mention was at once present in the building but revealing that would be revealing my whereabouts.
Anna, you are right, the story is getting lost in a barrage of questions. I should try and finish
it. My energy levels are low tonight. Jack says the same thing. It happens like that. We have much
to do. We have people calling us. We are neglecting our callers. Here is a little more information
for you to digest.
When Jack arrived on the scene that evening it was certainly a memorable experience. He has become a
good companion to me and a close friend of Janet's too. He has mastered the technique of communication.
His first attempts, like mine, were clumsy and incredibly slow. He has learned fast though. He is also
capable of moving objects. I find this fascinating. He has no desire to move back to his old building
and is quite settled and at home here.
I cannot see Jack, save for the aura that he gives off. To describe it I would say that it is very much
like a shadow but with a tinge of colour. He has confirmed that he views me the same way. Our shapes
are not clearly defined but barely visible to each other. It does help us avoid the unpleasant experience
of colliding, although occasionally this still happens. Janet continues to feel our presence, more
strongly now, but finds it impossible to distinguish between our two spirits or to know which of us
is standing by her side. She has to rely on typed messages in order to know who is communicating.
It is a bit like charades sometimes. We have to put our name to text each time we type her a message
or she has no idea which one of us is calling her. Using ICQ does help of course. The user name
quickly lets her know the identity of the caller.
The strange thing is that I have to communicate with Jack in the very same way as I do with Janet.
The messages typed up on her screen each day would appear most odd to any onlooker. When you have
nothing else to do except learn and chat it is amazing just how much information that you absorb
and the ingenious way in which you find out about each other. I have an idea what Jack looks like.
Not because I can see him but because I found an internet site with pages full of people.
I scanned through them until I found one that looked similar to me. Jack did the same.
It was a source of great amusement for us. Jack of course does have the benefit of
already having seen me alive.
Jack finds it very amusing that I am bothering to communicate with the living at all. He is
happy about Janet but he has no living family left on this earth and spends his time looking
for their spirits on the internet, in the hope that they too, are somewhere out there with
access to the world wide web. A long shot, but I can fully understand why he will not give up.
Before anyone asks, I am already in contact with my own family. For me the task of catching up on 30
odd years is not as difficult as Jack's. My daughter and my wife are fully aware of my existence.
They have visited me on many occasions. They are visiting me again this weekend. I have to rely on
Janet's hospitality of course, and I know this is taking up so much of her time, but she assures me
that she is quite happy with the situation.
The hardest part about meeting up with your loved ones is that whilst you can see them and hear them
talk you are still restricted to having to type messages in order to be understood. Janet had spent
the best part of a month tracing my wife who had moved twice and also re married. My daughter now
lives in Wales and she was actually easier to find than my wife. What a shock it was meeting them
again. My beautiful wife was a pensioner and my lovely daughter is entering middle age. I suppose
I should have known better. I don't know what I was expecting but it was a strange re union.
The most difficult part was relying on Janet and her compassion in explaining why she had brought them here
to an office in Birmingham to discuss some details about me. She refused to tell them anything in any
detail in advance, and insisted that they actually agreed to visit the office and listen to what she
had to say. They took some convincing and I am sure that it was curiosity that got the better of
them in the end.
Just where do you start to unravel such a strange and surreal tale to the living. How do you break
it to them gently that you know the details of what happened to someone who disappeared some 30
years previously. You can imagine their reaction. Janet was good at giving them every minute
detail in bite sized chunks. She plied them with strong coffee and delicately spent over two
hours going over the whole story. They listened intently, occasionally looking at each other
and then back to Janet in disbelief and dismay. At one point I thought my wife, I stand
corrected, my ex wife, was going to leave and dismiss Janet as a disturbed and dangerous
person, but it was down to some of the information that I had given her previously that kept
their interest from wavering and assured their willingness to continue listening.
After they had been provided with all the necessary information, Janet announced to them that
I was in the room with them. My ex wife was a pensioner now and this was a matter that needed
some skilful explaining. As usual Janet was faultless. Her caring nature ensured that when
the time was ready for me to start typing, they were prepared. That is, as well prepared
as anyone can be, considering the circumstances.
I will not bore you with the full details of our conversation or the intimate details I had to
reveal in order to convince my wife and daughter that the mysterious type appearing in front
of them was indeed their long lost husand and father. There are things that only a family know.
There are moments only a family share. This ensured that by the end of the evening they were
in absolutely no doubt as to my identity. From that day forward our relationships have been
re kindled and we have had a lot of catching up to do.
One of the first things that Jack was able to tell me was regarding the details of my own death.
He had seen it all from the window of the building he was trapped in. He remembers every detail.
He has provided a full description of the culprits. Not much use you would think after all
these years. Quite the contrary, it has enabled us, with the help of Janet to build up a very
detailed picture of what happened, the names of the people involved and an exact re construction
of the murder. There is one final piece of evidence that needs to be recovered in order to satisfy
a jury and convict the culprits of my murder.
Again, I will give you this account in my own words but based on what Jack has revealed to us. I will
give you this tomorrow. Some 33 years later and we almost at the point where we can hand the details
over to the police. This is an eventful period in my existence. Until soon.
Michael