07 August 2024 | Haunted houses, Your Stories, Your True Encounters
After our experiences at The Foundry, my family and I thought we might find some respite in our mountain home. The house was sprawling, with a self-contained apartment downstairs, and we often enjoyed hosting gatherings there. Little did we know, our mountain retreat would soon become the stage for another series of inexplicable events.
It was a warm summer’s day when we decided to throw a party, inviting friends and neighbors over for a barbecue. As the day mellowed into evening, I found myself in conversation with a neighbor, my gaze fixed on the downstairs apartment behind him. That’s when I first noticed it – a brown, shadowy figure darting back and forth inside the apartment at an unnaturally high speed. I knew the apartment was empty, which made the sighting all the more unsettling.
As the last guest departed, my wife turned to me. “Did you see a figure downstairs?” she asked. I nodded, describing the brown shadow and the sense of malevolence that accompanied it. A couple of days later, we learned that our neighbor’s wife had been experiencing a ghostly presence in their own home. I couldn’t help but wonder if our neighbor had unknowingly brought an entity with him to our party.
For the next few days, I kept a watchful eye on the apartment, but all seemed quiet. Then, one night, my 11-year-old daughter’s scream pierced the silence. She’d seen a weird figure running up and down the hallway, wearing what she described as a crazy smile.
Determined to address the situation, I asked my family to vacate the house so I could perform a clearing. Despite my best efforts – invocations, commands for the entity to leave – it persisted. It took three thorough attempts before I felt the presence dissipate, as if it had been stubbornly attached to something in our home.
But our ordeals weren’t over. Between my clearing attempts, my older daughter, then 13 or 14, woke up in hysterics one night, claiming a tall figure had been in her room.
As our children grew older, we decided it was time for a change and put the mountain house on the market, setting our sights on Sydney’s CBD. The house sold, but the new owner mentioned feeling a presence. I didn’t think much of it, confident in my clearing efforts.
On our final day of ownership, as we cleaned the house from top to bottom, I felt an invisible force push me down a small flight of stairs. Shaken, I joined my wife in the family room to recount the incident. As I spoke, addressing whatever presence might still linger, I expressed gratitude for allowing us to be its custodians for nearly a decade. I announced our imminent departure, and at that very moment, a locked glass door leading to the veranda – a door for which we had no key – suddenly swung open.
My wife and I exchanged glances, a mixture of awe and relief washing over us. We closed the door, said our final goodbyes, and left the house for the last time.
Submitted by Conarelli
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