Sunday, January 16, 2011

An Unpleasant Ghost Encounter

I felt very lucky to have found a 3 bedroom townhouse where my young children and I, not forgetting the dogs, would be able to settle down. After a number of months of turmoil renting a second floor flat above another where a family that seemed quite demented and violent lived, we needed to get out for peace, if not to save our lives. Once, as they were returning from school, my son and daughter who were then 6 and 9 years old, were met at the door by one of the downstairs children who threw a bucket full of water all over them. They were drenched and in tears. And cold as it was late fall. These people had threatened to kill our dog Chester, a white shepherd. I was afraid they would do it so I had him adopted to a farm. They had once fired a gun and the bullet had gone right through our balcony. The mother (there was no father) appeared as deranged as the children. I was reluctant to involve the police for fear of serious retaliation while I was at work. It had become not only intolerable, but dangerous, as well. I was determined to find a place that we could call our own. As soon as possible.
The townhouse that appealed to me had belonged to a family for 22 years. Two daughters, now adults, had grown in it. After the father had a stroke and died suddenly in the second floor bathroom, his widow would no longer live in the house alone and put it up for sale, “as is”. The house had been on the market for 6 months when I made an offer. Thus far the widow had refused every buyer’s offer, so I didn’t feel very hopeful. Particularly since my offer was the lowest of all... I guess she was tired of the whole thing because she took it without any counter offer. What a relief, what joy!
I was able to break the lease and we moved in on April 1st. It meant moving the children to a new school a few months short of the school year end. But safety first. Everything was turning quite well for us. The interior was dated and a bit grungy. However, I had to wait until I’d get enough money to make some changes. That came later in the fall. I can’t recall what the colour scheme was; but I do remember that the carpet in the staircase was an ugly mustard yellow colour. Many of the walls needed to be refreshed. Definitely in different colours. I began tackling the work myself on weekends.
At times, I had felt a presence in the house, but had dismissed it. However, once I’d started to make the changes, that feeling became stronger. Again, I dismissed it all, unaccustomed as I was to all things metaphysical. However, I could sense that something unusual (to me) was going on. Only, I didn’t know what. Besides, we all had to unburden the fear and upset from the previous place. That was probably it.
Later in the fall, my older son came for a visit for just a couple days. He was on his way to Cyprus with the Peace Keeping Corps. The house had a den in the basement with a window and a couch that could serve as a room for a few days.  During one night, my son had disturbing nightmares and also felt very uneasy in the house. That was getting way too unsettling.
As I went on removing the mustard yellow carpet is when I began to get a sense of a field of anger in the house. I’d consulted a psychic who, I’d hoped, would tell me what was happening, either a ghost or me losing it. He was sort of a “ghost whisperer”, I suppose. He’d met me at the door, invited me in. As we sat down, he’d looked at me, then exclaimed, “Do you know that there’s a man right behind your back?”  I could feel myself shivering from a sudden cold around me.
I then related all that had been happening. He asked me if I knew the name of the man who used to live in the house, I did. His name was Fred *…. He said that when a person dies suddenly, oftentimes, he/she is not aware of having crossed over. He added that my “luck” in getting the house had been engineered by Fred as he somehow influenced his wife to refuse offers until I showed up, without a husband. He said that he’d try to convince Fred to move on. I hoped that I would now feel secure in my home!
But I guess I’d crossed a line with Fred when I began to remove the mustard yellow carpet. Had it been his pride and joy? It wasn’t mine, at all. His anger appeared to be on account of the “changes” and the presence of any man in the house. Finally, I had had enough. Now I was getting very upset as I was once more feeling his anger surrounding me. I said out loud, totally exasperated, “…Fred, you’re dead! Now this is my house and I will do to it what I want. Go and don’t disturb me anymore. THIS IS MY HOUSE!”  Shaking, tools still in hand, I stood in the middle of the staircase. Until I felt a sense of relief and silence wash all over me a few moments after my outburst. From that point on, the house stayed quiet and I kept making all the changes I had set my heart on.
My very first encounter with a ghost. Quite unpleasant.
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3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oooo... I love ghost stories. Thank you.
Virago

Anonymous said...

I love ghost stories too. Poor Fred, lol, had to have some earth sense knocked into him to force him to see the 'light.'

Glad I found your 2 blogs. They're good reads.

Gail

Pierre said...

Thanks for posting the story, it brought back memoried of that night in the basement.