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Reincarnation Stories
Death in a Medieval Castle

I have only had this dream once, and that was enough. I remember being in a castle in England. I have no idea why I know it is England; it just is.

There is a battle going on outside. I am young, somewhere between twelve and fifteen. I am running down a spiral staircase that has a wall on both sides so I assume it is a turret. I reach a small landing and I can see the great hall below me. There are benches and long tables stacked along the left wall. To the right there is a huge set of double iron bound doors which are open; to the left there are a row of windows. The glass is thick and you cannot see through it. I am very proud of those windows so I assume they are rare. Along the wall in front of me hang banners with segmented colours. They have no coat of arms on them. There is a huge fire place along that wall as well. There is no fire so I guess it is summer.

Suddenly a man appears in front of me. He is short, thin and has a black "Prince John" type beard. I know he is French. On his head is a round tin pot helmet with a thick nose bridge. He is dressed in a brown leather jerkin and trousers. He doesn't seem to have any other kind of armour on him. He carries a sword in his left hand and a dagger in his right. He almost runs right into me. Then he raises his dagger and laughs just before he pushes the dagger into my chest. I look down at the dagger and see that there isn't much blood. I am shocked by this. There isn't any pain that I remember but that wicked, evil grin and laugh will haunt me forever.

I am a believer in reincarnation and have been for most of my life. I feel that sometimes we meet people we knew in the past and have an instant reaction, either negative or positive for no apparent reason in this life. When I met my partner, it was as if we said, "Oh, there you are, where have you been?"

When my son was very little, before he could speak English, he spoke in what seemed like Russian. He had all the inflections of someone holding a conversation in their native tongue. He would come up and speak a whole sentence and look at you as if he expected an answer. If you said, "OK" or "Oh, really?" he was happy and trotted off. As soon as he learnt an English word, the Russian vanished. However for a long time as a child, he was very interested in Russia and could give you information about the Russian Army in a very authoritative manner. I wish I had taped his voice and found out if it was actually Russian he was speaking.

Sally (Australia)
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Posted May 9, 2006