Recently I have been reminiscing on my paranormal experiences, and thought to share one of them in the spirit of the spooky season.
I’m pretty sure the last house I lived in was haunted, and here’s why…
Up until last year I was living in a shared house with my long time friend. We’ve known each other since high school and because of few fortunate events we ended up living together in a couple of places. The house we lived in at the time was getting too small for us, and that’s how we found our new place that I solemnly believe till this day, was haunted..
At the beginning of summer 2020 we both agreed it was time to search for a new place, somewhere that was more convenient and spacious, and when the time was right I found a Face Book add for a beautiful grade two listed building right in the middle of our town centre.
The place was super spacious, had more room than we could have asked for, tall ceilings and old sash windows with a beautiful view of the town centre. I love anything old and antique, so I instantly fell in love with it.
When we first went to view it it was full of light, warmth and felt super inviting. So we made our decision pretty fast and after a couple of days of back and fourth with the Landlords we completed necessary paperwork and started packing and a month later we were moving.
On the day of our move we noticed one big difference - the place was very dark and cold, and nothing like it felt the first time we saw it.
We were still in the middle of summer, but inside was around 6 degrees Celsius which was baffling.
I’ve visited many old buildings in my time but I’ve never felt cold radiating off the walls like that.. There was also a very thick wall between mine and my friend’s bedroom, which no matter how hard we knocked on, we couldn’t hear each other.
It was the end of June and we both had 2 electric heaters going for most of the day but to no avail, the heat just wouldn’t stay.
Our first night was cold and pretty much sleepless, because every time I felt myself drifting off a noise would wake me up and I couldn’t settle. It wasn’t anything in particular, more like ordinary house creaking noises we’re all very used to, but the frequency of them was off. It was as if the house wouldn’t let me fall asleep.
I didn’t question it as much as I should maybe, because I was naturally anxious for my first night in a new place, so didn’t expect much sleep anyway. But there is an old saying in my family that the first dream you have in your new house is very important, as it will tell you if the place is good for you, and if you will have good fortune living there.
Once I finally managed to get some sleep and basically fell into what felt like a mini coma, I remember being chased through the house by a tall, dark shadow figure, and that definitely wasn’t a good sign.
Throughout our first week we finally managed to get used to the noises and had a full night of sleep, I didn’t remember having any dreams after, it all felt kind of blank, as if I didn’t dream at all..
But sooner rather than later new things began happening, and there was always issues with construction of the building. Strange, pungent smelling leaks would appear out of nowhere even when we were going through a heatwave which in the part of the UK we lived in would get very dry.. We’d get frequent power cuts, with no other buildings being affected, just us..
It was a common knowledge among our family and friends that there was always something going on with our building, and it felt like the house just didn’t want to be lived in. Contractors would come out to fix the constant leaking roof but a couple of days later it’d come back stronger, without a single drop of rain outside..
The Landlords were tired and baffled by constant ‘small disasters’ we would call them about, and as I’m writing this they sold the building about 3 months ago, I’m guessing things haven’t changed much and they simply had enough.
I remember one particular night when it felt like things reached a completely new level, and it wasn’t just about small confusing repairs. It was about to get very paranormal and very personal.. I just came back home from work and was unpacking some groceries I bought on my way back. The kitchen was never my favourite place in the building, it always felt uneasy being there alone, especially when I had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.
Our toilet and shower room were separate, and had small vestibules with some utilities and storage, the fridge stood right next to the one which led to our shower so I could always see into it with the corner of my eye.
I nearly finished putting things away in the fridge when I caught a glimpse of something, and instantly froze. For a moment I thought I saw a dark, tall figure just standing there, but when I looked again it was gone. It looked exactly like the shadow figure from my dream, the only dream I’ve had since we moved there.
An overwhelming sense of dread crawled up my spine and I darted out of there as fast as I could, the place looked empty, but I could feel a thousand eyes watching me from every direction. My love for the paranormal and occult has taught me that this particular feeling is probably the worst sign of an evil entity being present. Apparitions aren’t as dangerous even though they might seem it at first, but a feeling of being watched, as if something’s hovering above you with their claws stretched out just waiting to pull you in is a very, very bad sign.. And it most likely isn’t your grandma visiting from the afterlife.
A few days later I told my friend about what had happened and she said she experienced something similar while taking a shower a couple nights back. It’s as if the same tall, dark shadow figure hovered in the corner of the shower room, just below the attic flap. She hated that flap since we moved in and always mentioned that it felt off, like something was up there and could come out any time.
For the next few weeks we would watch the house closely and tell each other if we’d find anything suspicious, we didn’t see the figure again, but an overwhelming sense of dread and fear had started to spread across the whole house making us question what the hell is going on. Were we really dealing with something supernatural? The building was very old, probably at least 70 if not 100, and it was possible that it would hold a lot of energy from it’s previous owners. So many different stories and scenarios had played out in these walls, not all of them could be good. Most of them probably weren’t.. I tried to research about the history of it, but didn’t have much luck except for finding that the building was used as a ‘Moot Hall’ which was a meeting hall for town’s residents back in the early days.
Things didn’t look great, the building would pull tricks on us more often and one night I watched my ceiling nearly split in half, as the plaster cracked all the way across my bedroom. Apparently it wasn’t anything dangerous, but it certainly didn’t feel like it at the time when I laid in my bed and watched the whole thing happen..
Me and my friend both began entertaining the thought of moving somewhere else even though the original plan was to stay there for a few years. The atmosphere was becoming unbearable, and so we had to make a choice, or rather it was made for us during our last power cut. That was our breaking point.
It was around midnight when the lights went off and we met at the landing with our tiny emergency flashlight we always used to check the fuse box. Most often than not the fuses were ok, but we always checked anyway because the thought of having to sit in the dark not knowing what’s next was way too disturbing, especially at the time. We went down 2 flights of stairs to get to the awkwardly fitted fuse box right below our tall ceiling and began investigating when my friend’s shoulder got pulled back. As if someone was trying to grab her. We both screamed and ran back to my bedroom where we hoped and waited for the power to come back, it was probably the longest two and a half hours of my life..
We didn’t wait long before applying for a new house, but every new place we found just wouldn’t happen. There was always a different reason, like the paperwork issues or other applicants got ahead of us, etc etc..
I eventually moved back in with my parents to save up for my own place, because the chances of us getting anything looked more bleak with each week and we didn’t want to stay in that house any longer.
And that’s how I left that house.
Sometimes when I visit town centre I walk by the building and feel the same sense of dread from before, as if something or someone is staring down at me, wanting to reach out and pull me back in to finish what it started. And time to time still, I get the same dream I had that first night we moved there, but I always manage to get away..
I wonder, what the new residents have to deal with, and if they’re okay…