Return to St Michael's Cemetery | The Diaries of a Ghost Hunter

Several weeks after filming at St Michael's Cemetery, we decided to return. There is something undoubtedly fascinating about the location, and it is seemingly haunted. The EVPs I caught last time proved that several spirits still roam around. Perhaps they converse with each other? Who knows.

Because my M2 app had come out with coincidental words on the previous trip, I decided to once again take it with me to continue testing it. I feel like the app is one which will need to be used several times in different locations to work out if it is genuine. I remain largely sceptical, but it is interesting to keep trying.

Once again, I walked through the gates armed with my Samsung A3 - which proved to be very useful last time - and my old iPhone, and we made a start.

It seemed that, according to my M2, that the graveyard was quieter on that day. Not as many "spirits" detected anyway. Interesting though, during this trip we did hear a lot of names being churned out by the app - Biden, Madge, Jerry, Rachel. I browsed the stones and found a Margaret, though of course there was a high chance someone called Margaret would be buried there. It didn't prove anything to me. Though, while nearer to the grave of a serviceman who died in the war, I did hear "serve." In that context, the name "Jerry" we heard may not have been a name at all, but the slang most British soldiers used for Germans.

But, though the app wasn't proving as useful as last time, I was getting a definite strange vibe on that day. Something that cannot be described in any other way, except "uncomfortable." As if there was something negative lingering around. The feeling intensified towards the rear of the graveyard, just around the corner of the church, and when I walked away from the area it changed to a feeling of being watched.

Even as I walked away I found myself turning around repeatedly, looking behind me. The feeling was so intense I wouldn't have been surprised if I did see someone there. I walk on, and out loud for the purpose of the camera mention that I feel as if I am being watched. In response, I picked up an EVP which unmistakably says, albeit quietly: "Maybe."

I walked to the newer section of the graveyard, where most people still have flowers adorning their burial site, and for no apparent reason I turn my attention to the left where a child is buried. It was a tiny little stone, and I can't say what caught my attention about it. When listening back, there is a small noise to the left of me which sounds like my name. Odd, and if it was a real EVP perhaps it would explain why I subconsciously turned in that direction?

In the same area, I walked on a little and came close to the stone which I felt the negative energy coming from. I voice out loud how I feel strange. In the footage, I heard what seems to be an echoing laugh. But since there were several people on the street beyond, this may well have been a real person.

But I had one experience in this graveyard which was incontrovertible. I wander somewhat aimlessly through the stones, and find myself standing in front of a white cross. I stopped to read the details, and learned that the person buried there was a WW1 soldier. Tragically, he died on the 11th November 1918 while on leave. I knew that he must have been sick, and my heart went out to the poor soul. Perhaps he found out the war ended, and passed away with a smile of his face. Perhaps he never knew. Once again, during my review of the footage, I realised I hadn't been alone there.

As I approached the stone, on the footage there is an odd sound which is a little like wheezing. Someone struggling to breathe properly. When I come to a stop in front of the grave to read and pay silent respects, there is an unmistakable "hey." The voice sounded hoarse and exhausted, but in a way happy - like someone groggy who has just been woken up is greeting their friend or companion. I've replayed that footage more than any other. It is hard to describe the emotion you feel when you experience something like that.

Of course, I had to know who he was. I looked him up in a book we own on local war heroes. I found him alongside a long list of other soldiers who had died from Spanish Influenza. If it was indeed wheezing I heard, perhaps that explains it. I do not know if ghosts still feel the afflictions that claimed their lives, but I like to think that they are "cleansed" and returned to full health (as full as their health can be, given their state of course!).

For that, there were very few words. But I know for certain that during my next visit, I will be taking a tribute in the form of a poppy. For those outside of the UK, poppies are a traditional way to show respect for fallen soldiers. It's a way of saying "thank you", of showing appreciation for what they have done for their country.

Shortly, I will be moving away to Scotland. I will be going back to the graveyard before I leave, but I am still fighting an inner battle to make a decision. In the main graveyard, across the road from the one I have been doing investigations, is my Nan. Her ashes lie in a pillar. I want to visit her, and I want to hear her voice too, but would it be too much?

I'll think on it.

In the meantime guys, that's a wrap. I hope you have enjoyed this entry as much as I enjoyed the investigation.