The
little girl, around 10 years old, woke up with her back against the
wall. She was in a foreign country. There was blood on the floor. She
was screaming and terrified. Her big sister woke up to the scene and
was paralyzed with fear. Was there someone in the room? She took her
little sister to her parents and tried to get some answers. There
weren’t any. There still aren’t any. I’m now 30 years old and I
would like to share the events of that night almost 20 years ago.
My
name is Olivia and I’ve lived quite an adventurous life so far. I’m
from a university town in the UK called Loughborough, halfway between
Nottingham and Leicester. I grew up quite introverted but loved doing
extroverted things. I was part of a military youth organisation and
was doing adventure training camps, military camps, flying, shooting,
gliding all by the age of 16. This gave me a sense of confidence and
adventure that I never would have developed without the Air Training
Corps. I left home at 17 and I left the UK at 21. Nothing (seemingly)
was behind these decisions, just a drive to follow my spirit and
independence. I like to push myself and problem- solve which has led
me into some pretty crazy situations- but that’s me, that’s how I
like to live.
When
I was 21 I was offered a position as cabin crew for a low- cost
European airline called Ryanair. They offered me one of the last
places on a training course in Seville, Spain and within a week I’d
packed my suitcase and headed off to start my new life abroad. I
wasn’t afraid. I spent six weeks training there before moving onto
my permanent base in Charleroi, Belgium. I took solo trips and with
friends all over Europe from Pisa to Luxembourg, Venice to London. I
felt totally free and on top of the world. The conditions, however,
weren’t great; the first two months were without pay due to
complications with Irish documentation as the headquarters are in
Ireland, despite living in Belgium. Food wasn’t provided for crew,
not even bottled water. Combined with low pay and a general lack of
respect from the management team I decided to move on with my
boyfriend at the time, Andrea. We trained up for a second time in
London for a new airline, easyJet. After a short period of living out
of suitcases at an airport hotel we got our wings and moved to our
base in Berlin, Germany. The city was great, work was sublime, now I
was living. And then it hit. The ’pandemic’. My exact thoughts
and feelings won’t be shared here but to say I was hesitant about
what was shared in the media would be putting it mildly. I saw that
my industry was being hit hard so while the ship was sinking I
retrained as an English teacher. No sooner had I received my
certificate did I receive my severance letter from my beloved
airline. I knew it was coming but my whole world was flipped on its
head.
Fast
forward a few years and a few jobs (pizza delivery driver in Germany,
remote travel agent in the UK) and I’m teaching in a private
language school in Florence, Italy. I mainly work with adults and
have the opportunity to get to know many different people and talk
about deeper topics which can often feel like a sort of therapy! Even
as an introvert the words flow when they have meaning words are real
life magic. What you say, you create. I limit self- criticism in my
classroom. “Too old”, “too stupid”, “too slow” isn’t
tolerated with my students. Over 2 years in and I’m really coming
into myself in my professional life.
This
confidence in my work has allowed me more time to reflect on who I am
as a person, to slow down. As my life has been so intense over these
past years I’ve never had a chance to step back and be still. My
now partner, Gabriele, allows me to self- reflect and doesn’t shy
away from difficult topics or uncomfortable situations. He sees me
for who I am and I often refer to him as my guru!
My
parents (Kev and Trish) have always taught me to think differently,
to not just follow a crowd without thinking, and to always ask
questions. As an adult this is great but as a child it creates a
seemingly concrete duality due to the constant need to ’fit in’
and bend to social constraints. I’ve recently had the realisation
that this duality impedes me from creating real connections with
people as I have difficulty expressing who I really am and what I
believe. There are two halves of the same person.
Many
of these reflections and discussions have naturally led to what kind
of childhood I had. My sister Kayleigh and I always had what we
wanted as children without living an excessive lifestyle. We went on
an annual holiday with our parents to Andalucía in Spain and always
rented small, rural houses. We would change village every year but
stick to the same region. My parents loved it. Day trips would either
be to the beach or doing something cultural. This wasn’t so popular
with me and Kayleigh but looking back I realise how formative these
experiences really were. Thanks for not taking us to the water parks
we were begging for mum and dad!
It’s
on one of these holidays that my experience happened. I can’t
remember exactly how old I was but based on how old Kayleigh was and
the recollections of my parents we’ve estimated around 10. As I
mentioned previously, our holidays were very ’self- sufficient’-
the villa was booked via a private ad’ in the newspaper, the car
was hired, and the flights were confirmed all by phone! We would
always go in the summer holidays and our flights were from our local
airport East Midlands to Malaga with an airline that doesn’t even
exist anymore- BMI Baby! I remember how terrified I was of flying,
even boarding the plane and smelling the unmistakable smell of the
cabin and I’d start ’self- soothing’ straight away to try to
fall asleep. Things obviously changed later in life..! We landed
smoothly on the other side and my dad, being in holiday dad mode,
went to pick up the car straight away and get us to our destination.
Cut to hours and hours of driving later and we were completely and
utterly lost. My parents had printed out the directions from Malaga
to the holiday home but something had gone wrong and we were driving
around in circles late into the night. My mum doesn’t have a
driving licence so only my dad was driving so it got to the point
where he was exhausted and couldn’t drive anymore- we had no choice
but to spend the night in the car. To this day I remember vividly
where we had pulled up. I remember that there was a bus parked in the
lay- by on the opposite side of the mountain road. And I’ll also
never forget the story my mum told from that night. I don’t
remember exactly when she shared this, probably at the villa when
we’d finally found it, but she described seeing a witch standing on
top of the bus in front of our car. A terrible omen of what was to
come in the following two weeks.
Strangely
enough when the sun was shining the next day we found our home and
realised that it had only been a few miles from where we had slept
for the night. Why hadn’t we found it? Nothing to dwell on at the
time, it was a bad dream, we were tired... The house we found was
beautiful, there was an old mill that was still operative but not
frequently used by the owners. There was a hydro wheel dipped into
the running stream and a small waterfall with a natural ’plunge
pool’ which was great to take dips in in the 35 degree heat. We
noticed a guest book in which someone had written something along the
lines of “all is well in the house, but the boys came back to the
pool again today. They won’t leave.” Creepy. A few days passed
without note and the boredom started to set in slightly so my mum
decided to pull a practical joke on me and my sister. While we were
out on the terrace playing cards she hid in the stream where the
hydro wheel was, she went quite deep into the tunnel and, pretending
to be a ghost, she started wailing “ooooh” “heeeelp me”
“ooooh” “I’m stuck”. Now we as a family are very tight-
knit and very playful, this was something completely normal to do.
But this time my body had a different reaction, it was pure terror. I
remember her being surprised by my reaction when we found her but it
was written off due to the heat and change of environment, like any
parent would with their child. And the holiday continued without a
hitch.
Around
a week into the holiday is when it happened. I don’t remember
exactly what we’d done during the day but nothing out of the usual
holiday routine. My parents were on the terrace having a glass of
wine and enjoying the tranquility of the Spanish evening and me and
my sister were asleep in our shared room. My parents would’ve
headed up to bed in their room, just down the corridor from us, at
around midnight/ 1am ish. So the events that are about to unfold
would likely have taken place at around 02:00/3:00. I remember waking
up in pitch black. I was squatting down beneath the light switch in
the corner of the room. There were two single beds in the long room
with Kayleigh’s close to the window and mine nearer to the door and
corridor to get the bathroom and my parents if needed. I remember
screaming and Kayleigh’s panic to switch on the light and rush to
my aid. When she switched on the light, however, the pure terror set
in. What she saw was blood all over the floor which was pouring from
a deep gash in my leg. She dragged me to my parents’ room but
strangely they hadn’t heard the commotion and were still asleep.
The screams must’ve been blood- curdling. Why hadn’t they heard
us? My mum took me and Kayleigh into the bathroom while my dad went
to search our bedroom and then the whole house, naturally thinking
that someone had broken in. As my mum cleaned my wound she wanted to
know what had happened. What could I tell her? I couldn’t remember
anything. I remember the feeling of paralysing fear waking up out of
my bed with my back against the wall in the crouched position, but
the events leading up to that? Nothing. I don’t remember what
happened for the rest of that night but the next day my parents were
weighing up the options and potentially flying back to the UK early.
My mum had bandaged up my leg and there was still another week of our
holiday. The real disaster though was not being able to go into the
plunge pool at the back of the house. Holiday ruined for 10 year old
me.
We
ended up staying the remainder of the holiday there but I know my
family were shook. My dad turned into Sherlock Holmes to try and
solve the mystery but there weren’t even any real hypotheses. The
best idea he had was that it could’ve been a spring from my
mattress- but the problem with that theory is that there wasn’t any
blood on my mattress. I don’t remember it even being painful. It
was almost as if I was seeing it happen to someone else. He also
mentioned that it could’ve been an animal bite, maybe a rat? Well
my wound was one large hole on the outside of my left leg, around 5cm
above the knee. The diameter of the scar is around the size of a
British 5p coin, around 1.8cm, which I don’t think could’ve been
caused by an animal. Surely an animal would leave bite marks?
Recently I’ve been using AI to get some more insight and after
going into an in depth explanation of the events of that night, its
best guess is that I pierced my leg on the milling equipment after a
night of sleep walking. Could be. Doesn’t seem likely though with
that being my only sleep walking event in my life to occur. The more
I try to come up with solutions, the more questions I have. I have
recently been listening to the work of Professor Corrado Malanga, a
former university of Pisa researcher and organic chemist. He has
dedicated his life to researching human consciousness, ufology and
human abductions. For the first time in my life since this event I’m
starting to find some answers to what could have happened to me. Now
I’m not 100% leading with the theory that I was abducted by alien
life form but in my desperate search for the truth it’s starting to
feel that things are being explained instead of remaining a mystery.
I am a very open- minded person and I would love to hear your
theories as to what happened to me that night, from the banal to the
out of this world! In my search for the truth I’m also searching
for all kinds of people to share their experiences too.
Born
in 1996 in the UK Olivia has lived in different European cities before
settling in Pistoia, Italy. Inspired by works of Claude. M. Bristol and
Alan Watts she is an emerging writer with focus on social issues,
incorporating spirituality. Writing has always been a private passion
but a recent idea for a project has awakened a drive to share her
writing with the world. Olivia has a background in travel and tourism
and is now working as an English teacher in Florence.
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