When I was seven I saw a ghost.
My best friend, Sheena's grandma had died. Her parents didn't feel she should go to the funeral, so instead she came to stay at my house. Back then I used to share a room with my sister, but that night, Mum put Sheena in my sister's bed so we could have a 'sleepover'. I'm sure everyone can picture the excitement of having a friend to stay, so it would hardly be surprising to know that we were awake till nearly midnight because we couldn't stop chatting and giggling.
A couple of hours later I awoke, glancing at my alarm clock to confirm the time was 2am. Then I remembered - Sheena was staying! Bright-eyed now, I looked towards my sister's bed in the hope that Sheena was awake too. I remember that it was summer time because the early morning light, made pale gold by the yellow curtains, was already creeping into the room. The pre-dawn sun rays fell across the bed in which Sheena was peacefully sleeping - and across the man who sat at her feet.
I wanted to scream, but instead did what any seven year old would do. I hid my head under the covers until it became warm and stuffy under there. I could only hear my breathing and my heartbeat. Not wanting to suffocate, I slowly pulled the duvet off my face, inch by inch, my eyes searching for the strange man, terrified that he would be looking at me and yet as I couldn't hear him, wondering if I had dreamed him.
As I uncovered my eyes, I saw him again. He didn't look real. He appeared to be blue and was wearing 'funny' clothing. This was the first time, I wondered if I was seeing a ghost. I remember being confused. My only understanding of ghosts came from books and television. He didn't have a sheet over his head and he wasn't rattling chains. He wasn't even white and all ghosts were supposed to be white.
So again, I did what I think any seven year old child who didn't believe in ghosts would do. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, then squeezed my eyes shut as tight as I could and opened them again convinced he would no longer be there.
For a brief moment, he was gone, but as I studied the bed, trying to work out how I had created his form, he materialised again in front of me. The purple duvet cover looked a dullish brown at that time in the morning. The wall behind was a gaudy yellow, even in the dim light. At first, he was transparent, although the bedding and walls behind him were now the same cold blue as him, but as he re-emerged, his figure became more concrete, more real, until he became almost completely opaque. I was convinced now this was real and not imagined, as I had secretly hoped. Sheena continued to gently sleep, whilst the blue ghost watched over her.
Now, with renewed confidence, I studied the stranger. He seemed kind, not frightening as I had previously envisaged. It was as if he was looking after Sheena. He wore a pale shirt with frilly collars and cuffs. Back then, I recall describing his dark knee-length trousers as pedal pushers, but I now know them to be called 'breeches'. Below the knee, he sported white stockings and his black shoes had big shiny buckles on them. I remember shifting into a comfortable position to continue watching him until I fell asleep.
Now, you think the story is over, but it isn't. The follow morning, Sheena and I awoke really early. We arrived in the school play ground around half an hour earlier than the next pupil and played clapping games, before sitting on the wall for a while.
Eventually, I plucked up the courage and asked, 'Did you see anything strange last night?'
To which, Sheena replied, 'What? The man at the end of my bed?'
After questioning her tentatively and her equally testing me, both of us were finally convinced we had both seen the same phenomena.
'We should keep this a secret. There's no point telling any adults. They wouldn't believe us,' Sheena advised me wisely.
And that is exactly what I did. I told no one. That is, until I was fifteen. As you can no doubt imagine, I now had a keen interest in the paranormal. Whilst browsing in the school library, I came across a non-fiction hardback book containing famous ghost sitings around the UK. There were several 'green lady' ghosts up and down the isle, lots of white ghosts and only one called 'The Blue Ghost' so I decided to take a look.
The description made me shiver. It told me that a blue ghost had been seen by several people in their own homes. Each of the witnesses were grieving the loss of a loved one; each of them saw a blue man wearing late 17th century apparel; and each described him as 'looking after' them.
