I will relate events as they occurred and leave you, the reader of this journal to judge what is real and what is not. I cannot explain more than I write; perhaps you can understand things that I cannot, or maybe there is no explanation. I can only say what I saw, and what I heard and felt and experienced. I can do no more. Please, God that I did not do the things I may have done, or see the things I believe I saw.
I shall give you a little background before I properly begin so that you can slot me into the context of my story. I am an orphan. In 1896 somebody dumped me on the doorstep of an orphanage in Perthshire in Scotland, without a note or an explanation and only a scanty white cloth as covering. I knew nothing about that until I was eight years old when the good people who ran the
