Living With the Non-Living

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My house is not quiet. The front yard is big, the street far away, but the cars driving past are so loud, it is as if I were sitting in the middle of a busy highway. The heater makes gentle whooshing noises that remind me of ocean waves reaching shore. The refrigerator hums quietly beneath the other sounds. And there is something else. Something that knocks on the walls and darts about, barely perceptible in my peripheral vision. I believe I am sharing this house with something else. And I’m not yet sure what kind of something it might be.

I lived with a ghost for nearly twenty one years. I know some of you may be sceptical, and if that’s the case, feel free not to continue. But I don’t just believe in the paranormal, I have encountered it. The presence in my house always felt male to me. I have had experiences with it since I was a little girl. My collection of porcelain dolls (creepy in hindsight, and eventually disposed of or given away) were placed high atop the cupboard so they couldn’t be reached. On more than one occasion, I noticed a slight change in head position on one of the dolls, or a lock of hair out of place, or a hat a little askew. Just subtle changes, but changes nonetheless.

I have been home alone and felt a breath on my neck. Heard footsteps through the hall. On a few occasions, heard a male voice speak, too faint to understand but distinguishable as a voice. And once, earlier this year, I saw a non corporeal but distinguishable humanoid shape pass behind me in the mirror and enter the back bedroom. I checked for possible light sources, reflections and lights to be sure, and when I found nothing, concluded that I had seen the ghost I had been aware of since I was a kid.

Even my dad, something of a sceptic himself, has felt and heard similar things, enough that he asked me if I had ever encountered any strange happenings in the house. I got a little too excited, because his experiences as he told me, served as validation for my own beliefs that we were sharing the house with an entity. I live in a very old mining town, built atop very old mines. I am not the only person to have experiences with spirit activity. A man in my street opened the mine shift he built his house on, and may have let out something infinitely older than the harmless spirit living in my dad’s house.

In my case, the ghost has reacted a lot to change. There was an increase in activity when my brother moved out two years ago, and when I moved into his old bedroom a few months ago. When my sister visited in March for a wedding, my eldest niece refused to set foot in my bedroom and started to cry, telling me ‘I can’t go in there, he’s in there and he’s staring at me’. She is three…or four (ok, I’m a bad aunty, but that’s the not the point) and has never known anything about the ghost or the house. For her to react so clearly, and especially given her reference to a male, further suggests the presence of an entity in my long term home.

Before I moved out on the weekend, the spirit again played havoc in the home. One of my pop vinyl figures ‘fell’ off the cupboard. There were taps on the ceiling of my bedroom and flickering lights in my lamp. The ghost has never been malicious and never caused any harm to my knowledge, but I believe that it gets restless and is affected by any major change.

I believe there is something in my new house and I have a feeling it may not be quite as benign as the ghost at my dad’s. I can’t quite explain why, but despite giving the house a thorough cleansing with sage, there is the vaguest sense of unease playing at the back of my mind. I am here for at least the next twelve months and I can only hope that whatever I may be sharing a house with will get used to me soon enough. I moved out so I could live on my own. The last thing I need is to have my plans ruined by an angry spirit.

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One thought on “Living With the Non-Living

  1. Your eldest niece is 3 and will be 4 in January so either of those ages is acceptable to say.
    As for the spirit in the house, it has been there as long as I can remember as well, and I distinctly remember being terrified of going to the toilet in the middle of the night when I was younger and waking up in the middle of the night and seeing a silhouette in the doorway (though that could have been either of the parentals looking in on us to be honest)

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