I remember that day started of normally. I usually did the ironing in the afternoon, and at the same time I put the TV on to keep me company. It was 1982, and I was living in Princess Risborough, Buckinghamshire, England. We were living in a small community, where we were waiting to be rehoused.
There was nothing particularly going on in my mind at that time, when for some reason I started to take notice of the news which was on. A young boy by the name of Richard had been abducted while he was on his bicycle. It was just before Christmas, and he was with his friend, going to earn some money plucking chickens so he could buy presents. I wasn't particularly upset because I didn't know him, and I soon put it out of my mind.
That night I had a very vivid dream. The small boy was standing in front of me. I couldn't see his mouth moving, but I could hear him in my mind. He was pointing toward an older lad of about 20 with long brown hair and playing a guitar. "He did it," the boy said. "He killed me." Then the scene changed, and I noticed that the police were pulling his body out of a river or lake. "It is nine yards out, and he stabbed me six times," he appealed to me. Then the scene faded and I woke up.
I have had a few premonition dreams before, but this one was completely real. I could still see him in my mind. So I told my husband and three other neighbours, and they all said to go to the police. But I thought I would wait for a couple of days because I didn't want to make a fool of myself. And I thought that they might think I was misinforming them.
Two days later, they found the boy's body in a gravel pit, which was filled with water. The TV coverage was exactly like my dream. They found him nine yards out, stabbed six times. The next day, as I was about to go and report my dream to the police, the news came on the TV that they had caught the man who had killed him. He had long brown hair, was about 20 years old, but to this day I never knew if he played the guitar.
Since that day, I have reported this to the Society for Psychical Research, where they still have it on their records. I still feel guilty about not reporting it to the police.