When I was three and a half years old, I lived next to a very old couple who let me play at the end of their garden which was connected to our garden by a small wooden gate.

One day, the old woman told me to go and talk to the fairies at the end of the garden. I obeyed and went to find the fairies. I remember sitting down and asking for a fairy to appear. I saw a very small pale blue fairy appear in front of me. I honestly cannot remember what we talked about, but I was delighted. I ran home quickly, to tell my mum and my older sister, Dee, that I had just seen and spoken to a little blue fairy with very small wings.

However, no one believed me. I was told that there weren’t really fairies. This deeply puzzled me, as I had just spoken to one. I remember telling my nursery school teacher the next day, who again told me that fairies are only in fairy stories. I thought, well I can see fairies, even if nobody else can.

I repeatedly tried to see the blue fairy again, but she never turned up. I decided then and there, the next time that I see a fairy that I am not going to tell anyone. As I knew that, the doubt put in my mind had broken the connection. I believed in fairies, because I had seen and spoken to one as a small child. We did reconnect many years later.

My childhood was ordinary, up to the age of ten. I was a regular little English girl, with lots of freckles and long reddish brown hair. When I was ten, my family moved to Zambia, Africa for two years.

I personally, liked living right in the middle of the African bush with my pony, Peggity, that I rode most days. We, as a family, visited many game reserves with Lions, Zebras, Giraffes, Antelopes and many other amazing wild animals. We visited the stunning Victoria Falls, met local witch doctors, and joined in tribal dancing ceremonies. The place was full of strange and wonderful animals, plants and colourfully dressed people with beautiful natural Amethyst and towering blocks of Malachite scattered everywhere. Africa was, and is, amazing.

When we returned from living in the African Bush, my parents bought a very large old house, which they still live in today. From the moment I started living there, I started to see spirits. They would come and walk around my bedroom at night and then they began to sit on me. I could see their old-fashioned clothes, from different times in history. The spirits did not talk to me at first. Now I realize that I was only looking into the past realities of the old house. They were probably just harmless spirits, but I had decided that they were negative spirits who wanted to scare me. Since what we think and feel is what we create, I created a horror story for myself.

Many more negative spirits turned up over the next two years, I called them the monsters. I was repeatedly sat on, touched and paralysed. It was a very frightening and lonely time. It was so frightening that I lived in total fear every night. I could not sleep at all until dawn, and then I would sleep for only 2 hours before school. This happened nearly every single night for two years.

Unbeknownst to me, I was co-creating and experiencing severe negative psychic abuse. When these spirits tried to communicate with me, I was fully aware of the depth of agony these negative beings were feeling. If I had the spiritual guidance and maturity of someone who was aware, I may have been able to stop the nightly terror. However, I was 12 when it started.

My only comfort was a small spirit bird, a white dove. I would clearly see its small flapping wings circling above me. When my spirit bird appeared, I knew I could get some sleep.

I believe the reason I did not go insane with fear was because I did not believe consciously that I was an evil person at all. I was more interested in why these monsters constantly visited me and wanted my soul. They did not give up, on and off for over a seven-year period tormenting me whenever I stayed at the family house in London. I spent most of my time abroad, but as a family, we often returned for the three month summer break, and this was when the negative psychic attacks happened. I was never psychically attacked in any other house I lived in. The worst time was from 12 to 14 years of age, and then again, at 19.

I realised at the age of 12 that something really awful must have been happening, as the attacks would start again when I managed to get to sleep. Other nights, I would awaken feeling as if I was flying around my bedroom. They would drag my astral body out of my body to scare me. It worked. I was completely terrified.

So at age 13, I moved into another bedroom downstairs, with my younger sister, Fay, who was 8. I was regularly paralysed and verbally attacked, when I was totally wide-awake. This was truly horrible. I was terrified of the monsters that seemed to really enjoy scaring me.

Other times, the whole bed would shake. I would be wide-awake and get into the same bed as my little sister. She would remain asleep and completely still. Yet I would be holding onto her, with me, violently moving around. I did not tell my parents, they just thought I had nightmares. In a way I wished it had been that simple. My life had turned into a complete horror story.

Many of our girl friends would sleep over, but never staying more than once. Once, a girl actually left screaming, saying that the beds shake. I found this a great comfort actually, as I thought, “I know, they hassle me all the time.” I was validated in my experiences. So yes, I was experiencing strange things, but so were other people, this kept me sane.

During this time, from age 12 to 14, I worked as a groom and a riding instructor. Every weekend, I rode and looked after a herd of horses, which kept me grounded. Being able to work with horses was my lifeline. I completely loved riding them.

During all this time, you would think that I would come up with a protection force of some kind. Praying never work, I tried it. I was still psychically abused. I learned to keep it quiet and to cope alone. My one thought was that I am not evil, so they cannot use me for evil. Interesting perspective!

This was my defence. I remember that I did not cry at all about this spiritual torture. I did not run to anybody. I knew my parents would not understand. I always remembered that no one believed me when I saw a beautiful blue fairy, so I was not going to tell anyone about the group of evil monsters living in my house. Would you?

My father moved the whole family to Penang, Malaysia when I turned 14. I lived a blissful attack-free year in Penang, which is a very small beautiful island in South East Asia, known as the Pearl of the Orient – a stunning place. My older sister, Dee and I, had to attend an international boarding school. The only one on the island was a born again Christian missionary school. Curiously, I had just spent two years in total spiritual agony, and now we were being ordered to pray before every single class! You can imagine my thoughts on this. God had not protected me at all through those nights of terror. I certainly was not interested in talking to Him!

I drove the very strict Missionaries completely nuts with questions about God, Jesus and the Bible. They could not answer to my satisfaction. I was told to stop asking questions, as I was starting to upset the other students. Oh really? I knew then that they did not have a clue about much at all.

My father’s job next took us to Manila, in the Philippines, just after my 15th birthday. No returning to the house of horror in London. Yippee! When we arrived in Manila, we stayed at a hotel that was holding an International Arts Film Festival for famous film stars, producers and directors from all over the world.

I was swimming in the hotel pool, when I was approached by David Hamilton, a well known photographer. He asked to photograph me. I agreed. David was very pleased with the photographs and he actually offered me a two-year modelling contract in France. I remember my parents telling me that if I really wanted to do this, they would arrange it for me.

I am only 5 foot 4 inches tall, a red head, being offered a modelling contract. How bizarre is that? I remember, genuinely considering this offer. Did I want to be a model? I just could not do it. I am a thinker, not an object to admire. I tell you this because, if I had signed on the dotted line, I would have stayed for only a week in Manila. However, I stayed for over 3 years with some devastating consequences for my friends and myself.

It was at this time, aged 15, that I had started to learn how to read playing cards. I did not like Tarot cards as the images scared me. I became very accurate at reading peoples’ fortunes. It was very common for the students in my school to come to my house and ask me anything about their future. They had questions like: “Will my parents let me go to the beach with my boyfriend this weekend?” “Will I graduate?” “Should I go to college in New York?” Typical girls’ card readings. I also studied Chinese astrology and palmistry. I even read the fortunes of some of the international school teachers. Funny, a 16 year old giving marriage advice to her English literature teacher!

In my final year at school, tragedy struck again and again. Three of my male friends died in car accidents. Every man I tried to start a romantic relationship with died that year. What do you do with that kind of emotional trauma at 17 years old?

My first boyfriend, whom I had started dating at the end of year prom, died in a car crash on the way home from the beach – he was travelling to have a date with me. The whole school was devastated, as he was a wonderfully happy soul. We all lined up at the funeral to pass by the coffin. I was in a very long line, and very upset. As I approached the coffin, I suddenly realised it had a glass top. Before I knew it, I was looking straight at his beautiful, yet damaged, dead face! I cried a lot that day.

How does one also cope with going to two more funerals in the next few months? I had warned the next one and his passengers of impending death, hours before, as I had a loud voice in my head (my soul’s inner intelligence) told me that the student I liked was in mortal danger.

I went straight to Manangs, the local bar, to warn Richard (not his real name) and the student I liked. We had only had a few dates. He probably decided that night that I was a complete lunatic, because I would not let Richard get into the car. He was my best friend’s boyfriend. I told him that if he got in, he would be seriously injured and the student I liked would die.

In the end, he gave me a very strange look, so I decided to let go of his arm. With hindsight, I really should have just continued to hold onto him! We were, after all, very good friends. Richard broke his back and had to wear a full back brace for nearly a year. The student I liked sustained serious head injuries and went into a coma, dying ten days later. I was devastated, yet again.

The third male friend actually persuaded me to give him back his car keys to drive home! I had seen him looking drunk and he was getting ready to leave the party. I had a very bad feeling. My inner voice, my soul’s inner intelligence, was yelling at me, telling me he must not drive home. The last words he ever spoke were, “I promise, I will make it home, Samantha. Please stop worrying about me.”

Yes, he had a car accident that night, and died a few days later, when they turned off the life support system. I was so sad and very annoyed with myself. I had given him back his keys! I decided, then and there, that I would always listen to my soul’s inner intelligence come what may.

Years later, this very same man’s spirit form appeared to me when I was 27. He insisted that I was three months ectopic pregnant. He was very persistent. I listened to him and insisted on an exploratory operation. He was correct. I had severe internal bleeding. His spirit actually saved my life.

Now back in early 1985, aged 18, I graduated early with honours. I returned to England to attend the London College of Printing, a specialist College, as I was accepted to train in Public Relations and Journalism. Welcome back to the House of Horror! I was living with my older sister Dee and her Danish female friend from the Philippines. My parents continued to live abroad, for ten additional years. Dee, started to date a very strange Brazilian man who practiced the dark arts of Black Magic, and I picked up on his sinister energy the minute I met him.

Well, he moved into the house, I had to get him out. But before this happened, he decided to curse my sister, plus, he left black magic spells all around our house! One spell was a picture of my sister’s face. He had used a match to burn a weird shape in the paper. Dee had a sore appear that was exactly the same size and shape. We did not find the spell until after the sore appeared, so no autosuggestion could have possibly occurred. He had put the spell under her bed, so that every time she slept there, the sore became worse. This went on for three weeks until we found the drawing.

My parents returned from Munich, Germany to help Dee. The sore would not heal. My mother took her to a doctor on Harley Street. I could not cope with Dee’s distress any longer. She was terrified, and I was becoming very concerned. I wanted to help her. I told Dee to stand in front of me. I placed my hands on her face, and I ordered the spells to be given to me immediately. I thought I could deal with it.

Oh my God! This evil entity walked straight into my aura, and I could hear it laughing. It had a coat and hat on. I remember thinking, “Why is it wearing a coat and hat? What an idiot!” Well, I thought that it is from Brazil, so it is probably freezing, being winter time in London.

I thought because it was an idiot, this would lessen my fear. I really thought I could cope with the silly Brazilian’s evil being. I had moved him out of the house physically, and I now needed to get him out of my aura, spiritually. The attacks came in full force every night for many weeks. If I did manage to fall asleep, I would wake up with negative beings around me, trying to pull my soul out through the soles of my feet! What puzzled me was why I could see them standing at the end of my bed in small groups, taking my soul again, like when I was 12. Whenever I was beng psychically attacked, my soul’s inner intelligence would explain exactly what was going on, to help release some of the fear, but I didn’t know how to protect myself or stop it happening.

At the time, I was working full-time at night, running an up-market hotel, and attending college full time in the day. I was completely exhausted. My sister was fine. The sore vanished within a week, and she moved out of the house, refusing to talk about it. I, however, was left with the evil being with a silly coat and hat on. It tried to talk to me, but I refused to respond. I could see and hear it 24/7. My approach was to ignore it, not listen to its constant evil muttering about most people I walked past.

Only my family knew about the spells. Would you go around telling people, at a respectable London college? “Hi, what have you been up to recently?”, “Me? I have been looking after my sister’s evil entity. Yes, an ex-boyfriend cursed her. I know it is terrible. However, it is okay, because I have saved the day. And, he’s still in my aura, so you had better move over a bit, because you’re squashing him!”, I mean, really, what was I doing? What was I creating!

Luckily, I had a spiritual friend, called Austin, who sometimes drove me to college. He took one look at me and said, “Samantha, you have an evil entity in your aura”. I just burst out crying. I was so glad he could see it too. His mother, who was the head of a gospel church, was contacted and offered to do an exorcism on me immediately.

My mother was in London and had to attend. After the session, Austin’s mother spoke to me privately, and told me to stop worrying. She laughed at me, and told me I was very clever. Her spirit guides told her that the Brazilian man had offered me a drink at a party, which Dee and I had arranged. She was correct. I had put the drink to my lips, but in my head, my soul’s inner intelligence had yelled “Stop, don’t drink that!” So, I did not. I poured the drink away. I always listen to the voice in my head.

Because I had not drunk it, he had not been able to curse me. I thought, “How lucky am I?” Imagine being cursed and then asking for Dee’s curse as well!

Austin’s mother then informed me that I was going to spend my life as a faith healer, healing and helping others. I thought, “Really?” Austin’s mother was very religious and, while I was not, I accepted her gift of a small bible and recited two protection psalms as directed. It helped me greatly. I could not see, feel or hear the evil being anymore, or his monster friends. I truly believed that I was free of this spell.

However, a few weeks later, on Valentines Day, I received a handmade card with strange symbols and calligraphy on it. It looked beautiful, until I opened it and started to read the first line. It said something along the lines of ‘your soul is condemned to hell.’ I quickly shut the card. I was deeply shocked, because he knew that the spell had been lifted, and he was trying to curse me, again. He knew he was fighting me spiritually too, because the card was addressed to me and not my sister, Dee. I showed my parents, and I decided to just burn the card. I knew if I read it, I would be cursed directly this time.

I decided that I had enough of these threats from, in my opinion, a completely evil person and evil spirits. I also knew that the only way to win this fight was to know, deep down inside, that I wasn’t evil, and I wasn’t going to resort to using evil (curse them back) to get rid of them. I was going to ignore them, give them no energy, and basically geton with my life.

A few days, or weeks, later, I honestly cannot remember, I was standing on the Greenwich Meridian Timeline. I was just waiting for a bus. I felt this almighty thud within my body. It was as if I had just jumped into my body. It could only be described as that.

My soul’s inner intelligence then proceeded to tell me a series of extraordinary and very interesting, but quite bizarre, spiritual facts about my amazing life, past and future. I certainly was not ready to deal with all this complicated information, but I was happy to hear what my soul’s inner intelligence had to say.

I was told that my mother had actually been pregnant with twins. She did not know this. My paternal grandmother was a twin, so this was possible. I lived, but the twin died very early in the pregnancy. It was a soul agreement. One was born and one went to spirit. Little did I know, during all these psychic attacks, that I always had a twin in spirit standing right beside me. This explained why I was so psychic – I lived in two worlds, at the same time. However, my twin could not help me. My twin just stood there crying. No wonder I never cried. My twin did it all for me, and saw it all. It must have been terrible. By the age of 19, my twin was livid!

The psychic attacks that occurred from age 12 to 14, and the black magic spells at 19, had resulted in what seemed to be irreversible soul loss. My soul passed to spirit, however, I had a twin soul, that stepped into my body and kept it alive, while I passed to spirit, was healed and sent back, hence the feeling of jumping back into my body at the bus stop. When I jumped back in, my twin stepped aside. This is a very rare spiritual event.

I was also told that I had a destiny. I was being given my Original Divine Soul later in this life. I would also be granted True Love. I would have a relationship with another Original Divine Soul in this lifetime. These partnerships are extremely powerful and help create new ways of being. They lead to new levels of existence, to help heal the collective Human soul. I would help others heal their souls and find True Love.

I heard and acknowledged all of this, however, I was really tired of this spiritual stuff, as it was all way too much. Original Divine Soul! Indeed! What was that? No, I needed peace. I had seen, heard and experienced too many things in my short years on this planet. I just stored that information with all the rest. I was very good at controlling what I thought. I had to let it all go, right then. It was not my path to go around telling people my strange spiritual experiences. I never told another living soul. I left home to stop thinking about all these spiritual things. I needed to forget. I knew I needed time to heal. I was 19, and I wanted like a normal life, please?

However, something extraordinary happened. When I was 23, and my son and I were homeless, I was given a house on the Greenwich Meridian Timeline. I thought, “How odd is that?” I had leapt back into my body about 500 yards away, I could have been moved anywhere! It made me remember what my soul had told me.

Samantha Britt Beaumont

Member, Community Assembly of the British Isles