How Could I Have Known?
What I Need to Tell You About Jordan Moray
I opened Facebook on the morning of 10th September, and the first post I saw stopped me cold.
Jordan Moray’s body had been found.
I sat there staring at the screen, hands shaking, because I’d known. I’d fucking known. I’d said it out loud, written it down, pulled cards about it, even documented the date. And then I’d done nothing with it.
Let me take you back to where this began, because the story isn’t simple. It’s strange, layered, and it needs to be witnessed.
2nd August 2025
I woke up that morning with Jordan Moray on my mind. That wasn’t unusual in itself, his case had always haunted me, even though I’d never followed the details closely. His face, his name, something about his story lingered in the back of my mind over the years like an unfinished sentence.
But this was different. This wasn’t a passing thought or idle curiosity. It was urgent. Consuming. Relentless.
I remember telling a friend: “I can’t get Jordan Moray off my mind… I think he’s in the mountains. It feels like Brecon.”
The words came out before I could think about them.
Here’s the strange part: I live with aphantasia. My mind doesn’t form visual images. And yet, I was seeing Jordan. Clear as day. In a black and green jacket I’d never seen mentioned anywhere.
And then the physical sensations began. Pain in my head. A stitch in my side. Tingling in my lips and face. Shallow breathing. Pain in my left arm, like panic or heart strain.
It didn’t feel like mine. It felt like his.
The Cards
When I can’t make sense of something logically, I turn to the cards. I shuffled my tarot deck, asking every question I could think of. What happened? Where is he? What does he need me to know?
The answers came through blunt and unflinching:
Justice. The Hermit. Eight of Swords.
Something unresolved. Someone hidden. The truth bound up, unable to be spoken.
More cards followed: The Lovers. The Knight of Wands. The Six of Wands. Messy dynamics. Ego. Impulse. Fire meeting shadow.
Finally, the Page of Cups surfaced — psychic messages, intuitive downloads. It felt like confirmation: keep going, you’re right.
And then the oracle deck sealed it: Share Your Voice. Mirror. Dance With Life. Pleiades.
Every card pulled me back to the same insistent truth: Speak it. He’s trying to reach you.
The Timeline That Changes Everything
I documented everything that day, the cards, the sensations, the words that had spilled from me without reason.
And later, I realised the date.
2nd August 2025. Exactly six years to the day since Jordan was first reported missing in 2019.
I hadn’t known that when I woke up thinking about him. I discovered it hours later, mid-conversation with my friend, and the realisation stopped me cold.
It felt like the universe had marked the date in red ink, and somehow, I’d been pulled into it.
What I Should Have Done
I kept going deeper. More cards. More notes. More impressions. The mountain. Brecon. The jacket. The silence.
But I didn’t act on it publicly.
And honestly.. what was I supposed to do? Call the police with a psychic vision? Announce on social media that I’d “felt” him in Brecon?
I told myself it would sound reckless. Irresponsible. Even cruel.
So I stayed quiet. I filed away my notes and tried to get on with my day. But I couldn’t shake the weight of it.
10th September
That morning, I opened Facebook.
The very first post in my feed was from Jordan’s brother, shared by someone I knew.
Jordan had been found by a member of the public on 29th August – in the Brecon Beacons.
The mountains. The exact place I’d named on 2nd August. Six years to the day since his disappearance.
I read it over and over, the words blurring as my mind circled back to what I’d written. The specificity was undeniable. Not just “mountains”… but Brecon. The Beacons.
And there he was.
The regret hit me like a physical blow. What if I’d spoken up? What if someone had listened? Could it have mattered?
Why I’m Telling You
This isn’t about making claims or chasing explanations. It isn’t about proof. It’s about honesty.
Because it happened. I felt him. I saw him. I knew something before it was known. And I stayed silent.
I don’t know why Jordan’s energy reached me, or why it came through so strongly on the anniversary of his disappearance. But it did. And I’ll carry the weight of not speaking it until now.
Sometimes the truth is stranger than anything we can explain. Sometimes the mystery itself is the story.
This is me speaking it now.
Rest in peace, Jordan..
🖤 Soph
