I’m female, married and fifty-one now, but when I was in my early thirties, single, and living alone, I lived at 5 Reabrook Road, Northfield, Birmingham, UK. The then Longbridge Car Plant was still there, built 1905 and demolished in 2005; it was literally just a two minute walk from my flat. Number 5, as several of the houses on that road and other roads were, I think, was originally built for the Plant workers and then converted to bedsit flats.
I was on the ground floor and there was a woman living above me. My living room and bedroom were one room with the bathroom and kitchen separate. I had twenty-six pet mice and was up at 4 am six days a week for work at 5am. From the second I moved in there was always the feeling of being very unwelcome in the flat; no matter how much I brightened it with colourful decorating, incense sticks etc., no matter how light or dark the weather, it was always dark, gloomy, eerie, hostile, suppressive. I hated the place. I’m not religious, but resorted to using crosses and other religious things to try to stop or ease the evil atmosphere-it never worked! I’m fine with ghosts etc. and have been connected with them all my life but the whole place was horrible and I had ten miserable years there.
One morning, while feeding my mice, I was suddenly thumped really hard between my boobs by a ‘huge male fist’ that literally sent me flying through the air backwards, I crashed on my back on the shelving unit, taking it with me as I landed. It was wrecked and my head was banged hard as I landed and my back was in agony. I managed to haul myself up and thankfully the mice were ok. Visitors who came for the first time refused to come again saying they could feel evil and felt like they were being watched. Workmen were reluctant to come in, would leave ASAP, and some made comments that they didn’t feel comfortable there. The bruise came up within a couple of minutes, big, painful and throbbing, shaped just like a huge male fist and it lasted several weeks. To this day I still get a bit of pain there occasionally. I showed it to a couple of workmates as proof.
I had a nice ghost there also called old Bert who would talk to me and I’d talk back .I’d talk to Bert physically & he’d reply with a sort of telepathy. I actually missed him when I finally managed to leave that horrible place in my early forties, I told him he could follow me to my new place in Upton-upon-Severn, Worcester, if he wants, he said he can’t as he’s earthbound to that flat; I think he was the elderly gent who died in the flat above before the woman moved in. Bert was playful. I’d go out and make sure all plugs were unplugged/switched off, would come back and they’d all be plugged in/switched on! A CD I left face up on my bed on the head end when I left for work was face down at the feet end when I came back, I put that down to Bert playing tricks as he hated Doris Day which is who was singing on the CD!
A photo was ripped off the wall, it was of a couple of workmates who are Mormons, it vanished for several weeks then reappeared by my bed. It wasn’t there when I searched for it when it first vanished. My mate Elaine, a Jehovah Witness, refused point blank to get near my flat saying it was possessed and it scared her. Pictures refused to stay on one wall in the bedroom no matter how strong the nails/hooks were. I saw pictures/photos being physically ripped off that wall.
Th atmosphere in the kitchen was so ‘violent’ at times I grabbed the kettle, toaster and microwave and moved them to the living room, closed the kitchen door and only went in when I really had to. When outside I got the impression of being watched by someone from inside. Bert told me he tried to find out who or what was causing the bad things but had no luck.
Submitted by Mrs Phillippa Hilsden
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