Through the Veil, Straight to my Heart
by Samantha Maine
I first met Brianna in September of 2008, in a string of many other paranormal phenomena that I experienced from the summer of 2008 until around fall 2009; out of everything that happened, my encounters with her are the ones I remember the most vividly and that are closest to my heart. Closer than I ever expected a spirit could be.
I had recently moved into my older sister’s former bedroom when she moved away from home, and shortly after, I began to feel watched, hear murmurs, whispers, and humming, felt the energy in the air change, and much more. For the first few months, I honestly thought I was crazy. It was my first encounter with the little girl spirit that changed my mind and made me believe that something paranormal was going on.
On a night that had produced some of the usual activity (humming, whispers, etc.) I lay back down around midnight after checking if anything could be making the sounds. I couldn’t account for any of them. I hoped to just forget about it for the night and get some sleep, but as soon as my head hit the pillow, I heard a little girl’s voice, loud and clear from the center of my room, say, “Hello.”
I sat bolt upright and simply sat there blinking and trying to slow my heart rate for I-don’t-know-how-long. Finally, I attempted to sleep once more, but it was no use. I was too surprised, shaken, slightly spooked, and intrigued to sleep. I realized this was real. Really real. Eventually, I did sleep, and time passed.
A few weeks or so later, I knew her name. I can’t explain how, I just knew. I was in my room thinking about hearing her voice, and her name just came into my head. I couldn’t shake it, couldn’t explain it, but I knew with a strange certainty – her name was Brianna Marshall. I also knew she got offended when people pronounced it wrong; it was “bree-ahna,” not “bree-anna.” This made me smile; she tended to make me smile a lot once I was familiar with her presence. She was a sweet little girl, wise for her age, and it was her that I had heard, and continued to hear, humming and singing in the night.
In March 2009, I saw her. It was again night time, though not as late; perhaps around 10 pm. I opened my bedroom door to make my way to the restroom, and there she was, standing on the other side of the door. I could see that she was around 7 or 8 years old. She wore a pale yellow dress, a yellow hair ribbon, and had blonde hair. But she had no face, no left arm, and no legs. To this day, I don’t know why for sure, but I have an idea. One that I’d really like to not be true.
I wish I could say that all of my experiences with her were happy ones, but I can’t. There was more to her story, and she wanted, maybe even needed, me to know. Most of my experiences at that time, especially the ones with Brianna, I noted in a log that I kept from the beginning until I went to college. But this, I couldn’t write in the log. It was just too horrible, and I didn’t talk to anyone about it for days, and even then it was very difficult for me to speak about. Telling the story still gets me choked up. One night, she showed me how she died. I heard her screams. I will never forget it, and as much as I don’t want to be proven crazy, I desperately hope that I only imagined it; no one, especially a child, deserves to go through that.
I believe Brianna was from Michigan and lived near Lake Michigan in the 1970’s. She was about 7 or 8 years old when she was murdered. Yes, murdered. The scene that she showed me is permanently etched into my memories, and my memories of the sweet little girl spirit are permanently etched into my heart. I saw a dark alley, surrounded on three sides by tall, brick buildings. She was lying on the ground, unable to get away. Her head and arms were in shadow, but her legs were lit up by a street lamp at the end of the alley. A tall man stood over her; he was all in shadow, but I feel as if he was someone she knew. Not related to her, but not a stranger. It looked like he used something as a whip, lashing her legs, arm, and face. I believe this is why I didn’t see those parts of her body when I saw her apparition.
I will never, never understand how anyone could be so cruel, heartless, evil to do this to a small, innocent, defenseless child. And Brianna was such a sweetheart, even after suffering this horrific ordeal – she still sang, danced, laughed, smiled; she was happy 99% of the time I knew her. Every time I think about her fate, it brings tears to my eyes and hurts my heart. Unfortunately, I don’t believe her murderer was ever found. But I’m so thankful I was able to meet her, and that I played a part in helping her move on and leave her nightmare behind.
I ask myself still why she came to me, why she showed me all this. And I believe she simply needed someone to see, someone to listen. To know what she went through so she could move on. She stayed with me until early 2010, even following me to college, though I mostly encountered her in my old bedroom at my parents’ house. I would still hear her humming and singing, or I would feel her sit on the bed next to me as I did homework, or at the end of the bed at night. Sometimes I would leave toys out for her to play with, and I would talk to her. I wanted to let her know that I heard, that her story wouldn’t go untold, that it was ok to move on. And so she did, though I sometimes feel as if she comes back to visit occasionally, or smiles down on me. I’m glad she finally found peace, after all she went through. And I will never forget her; she had such an impact on me and on my life. I don’t know if I would ever have believed I wasn’t simply crazy if it wasn’t for her, and I know that she’s a huge part of why I’m involved in the paranormal field at all. And her happy personality helped me overcome a depression that had engulfed me for most of high school. I suppose we were thrown together to help each other. She certainly left a lasting impression in my mind, on my heart, and on my soul.
I had recently moved into my older sister’s former bedroom when she moved away from home, and shortly after, I began to feel watched, hear murmurs, whispers, and humming, felt the energy in the air change, and much more. For the first few months, I honestly thought I was crazy. It was my first encounter with the little girl spirit that changed my mind and made me believe that something paranormal was going on.
On a night that had produced some of the usual activity (humming, whispers, etc.) I lay back down around midnight after checking if anything could be making the sounds. I couldn’t account for any of them. I hoped to just forget about it for the night and get some sleep, but as soon as my head hit the pillow, I heard a little girl’s voice, loud and clear from the center of my room, say, “Hello.”
I sat bolt upright and simply sat there blinking and trying to slow my heart rate for I-don’t-know-how-long. Finally, I attempted to sleep once more, but it was no use. I was too surprised, shaken, slightly spooked, and intrigued to sleep. I realized this was real. Really real. Eventually, I did sleep, and time passed.
A few weeks or so later, I knew her name. I can’t explain how, I just knew. I was in my room thinking about hearing her voice, and her name just came into my head. I couldn’t shake it, couldn’t explain it, but I knew with a strange certainty – her name was Brianna Marshall. I also knew she got offended when people pronounced it wrong; it was “bree-ahna,” not “bree-anna.” This made me smile; she tended to make me smile a lot once I was familiar with her presence. She was a sweet little girl, wise for her age, and it was her that I had heard, and continued to hear, humming and singing in the night.
In March 2009, I saw her. It was again night time, though not as late; perhaps around 10 pm. I opened my bedroom door to make my way to the restroom, and there she was, standing on the other side of the door. I could see that she was around 7 or 8 years old. She wore a pale yellow dress, a yellow hair ribbon, and had blonde hair. But she had no face, no left arm, and no legs. To this day, I don’t know why for sure, but I have an idea. One that I’d really like to not be true.
I wish I could say that all of my experiences with her were happy ones, but I can’t. There was more to her story, and she wanted, maybe even needed, me to know. Most of my experiences at that time, especially the ones with Brianna, I noted in a log that I kept from the beginning until I went to college. But this, I couldn’t write in the log. It was just too horrible, and I didn’t talk to anyone about it for days, and even then it was very difficult for me to speak about. Telling the story still gets me choked up. One night, she showed me how she died. I heard her screams. I will never forget it, and as much as I don’t want to be proven crazy, I desperately hope that I only imagined it; no one, especially a child, deserves to go through that.
I believe Brianna was from Michigan and lived near Lake Michigan in the 1970’s. She was about 7 or 8 years old when she was murdered. Yes, murdered. The scene that she showed me is permanently etched into my memories, and my memories of the sweet little girl spirit are permanently etched into my heart. I saw a dark alley, surrounded on three sides by tall, brick buildings. She was lying on the ground, unable to get away. Her head and arms were in shadow, but her legs were lit up by a street lamp at the end of the alley. A tall man stood over her; he was all in shadow, but I feel as if he was someone she knew. Not related to her, but not a stranger. It looked like he used something as a whip, lashing her legs, arm, and face. I believe this is why I didn’t see those parts of her body when I saw her apparition.
I will never, never understand how anyone could be so cruel, heartless, evil to do this to a small, innocent, defenseless child. And Brianna was such a sweetheart, even after suffering this horrific ordeal – she still sang, danced, laughed, smiled; she was happy 99% of the time I knew her. Every time I think about her fate, it brings tears to my eyes and hurts my heart. Unfortunately, I don’t believe her murderer was ever found. But I’m so thankful I was able to meet her, and that I played a part in helping her move on and leave her nightmare behind.
I ask myself still why she came to me, why she showed me all this. And I believe she simply needed someone to see, someone to listen. To know what she went through so she could move on. She stayed with me until early 2010, even following me to college, though I mostly encountered her in my old bedroom at my parents’ house. I would still hear her humming and singing, or I would feel her sit on the bed next to me as I did homework, or at the end of the bed at night. Sometimes I would leave toys out for her to play with, and I would talk to her. I wanted to let her know that I heard, that her story wouldn’t go untold, that it was ok to move on. And so she did, though I sometimes feel as if she comes back to visit occasionally, or smiles down on me. I’m glad she finally found peace, after all she went through. And I will never forget her; she had such an impact on me and on my life. I don’t know if I would ever have believed I wasn’t simply crazy if it wasn’t for her, and I know that she’s a huge part of why I’m involved in the paranormal field at all. And her happy personality helped me overcome a depression that had engulfed me for most of high school. I suppose we were thrown together to help each other. She certainly left a lasting impression in my mind, on my heart, and on my soul.