There's A Ghost In My Home

It had never occurred to me to share this story and since the days of living at Flat 4 are long gone and I no longer experience any dodgy activity, I don't feel any fear in sharing what used to happen whilst living in our old flat.

We moved into our lovely, pretty much brand new house back in January and what an adventure it's been. We both worked super hard to get here and saved like crazy, worked extra hours and have spent so much time making this place ours. It's perfect. 

Prior to moving here though, I lived for 3 years at Flat 4 which I have mentioned in a couple of posts previously and James lived there a few months longer. We were both living alone when we reconnected after a few years of drifted friendship and it didn't take either of us long to work out how deadly serious we both were about each other. Within no longer than two months of being together, we decided it was logical for me to move in with James as the rent at his place was cheaper and despite my house having more room, it made sense in order to save more money to buy our own house one day.

Our flat was one of six in a huge old house. I actually did some research around the house and it turned out that it was well over 150 years old and belonged to an American Count who used it as a hunting lodge. Royalty used to stay there too and it had a very grand, intimidating presence about it. I couldn't help but feel like it needed some proper TLC but with it being a listed building, there are limits as to what maintenance can be done. Still, it was enormous and housed six apartments which were all owned by the other residents. Ours was owned by the landlord who also lived downstairs at Flat 2 so it was very handy having him so close by if we ever needed anything and he was the best landlord ever.

For the first year or so of living there, James worked in a bar so would spend many evenings a week at work and I found this really uncomfortable when I was in the flat alone at night. Depending on what time he finished work, sometimes I'd wait for him to come home and others I'd retreat to bed and not move until I knew he was back home. The reason being was I never felt settled there and always felt like I was being watched. Over time, I grew to know the flat like the back of my hand and could have listed all of it's quirky features and gradually I became more comfortable. I used to feel like I 'saw' things, heard or smelt things like tobacco and not as though someone had just lit up; it was like a stale, old kind of tobacco smell. What made it even more eery was no one smoked in the house except one of the downstairs residents who was only in the house at weekends. We only had Custard back then but she would always stare into space in the same spot, a behaviour which she hasn't continued with in our new house. Usually I coped with the goings on and what with other people being in the same building, I always felt safe enough and that help was close by. I could hear them sometimes and it felt even nicer when I'd bring Custard back from her walk in the evenings and see lights on in the other flats, giving me comfort that I wasn't alone.

One night however, I was washing up in the kitchen with some music on and it just so happened James wasn't home. He'd long since left his bar days behind but I honestly can't remember where he was that night. I didn't have the music on loud because of paranoia and consideration of the other residents but out of no where, I heard footsteps running through the flat, go through our front door and then I heard the distinct sound of Custard's nails run after whatever it was, following it. I froze and grabbed my phone silencing the music and listening hard, praying that it was just my imagination. But Custard was indeed at the front door, alert. I'd had enough, I grabbed my keys, my phone and my dog and legged it down the flight of stairs and out of the main front door whilst frantically ringing James. No answer. I got outside and turned around to look back at the house and to my horror, no lights were on in any of the other flats. I rang my Mum and all I remember is sobbing hysterically down the phone that something had happened and no one was home. My Mum convinced me to go back into the house and be firm; if something was there it needed telling to leave me alone. I went back inside and pelted up to bed. Our bedroom was in like an attic part of the house, so you entered our lounge and there was a flying staircase in the corner which you climbed and hidden away was a bedroom. James eventually came home and whilst he never called me a liar, he's always one for wanting to see evidence or look at things from a scientific perspective. We tried together to work out what I might have heard, but no one was home and it was too early in the evening to assume everyone was in bed.

For a good week or so I was on edge and hated being left alone. I had decided I'd had enough of living at Flat 4 and didn't feel at all at ease. If I was living alone, I wouldn't have stayed there for 3 years…no way. Things seemed to calm down a bit until again, one night whilst we were both in bed, something else happened. I usually sleep with headphones in listening to ASMR (only when James is home) and on this occasion I was literally just nodding off, right on that brink of falling into a good solid sleep when James, in all his naked glory, sprung out of bed like some sort of ninja and told me that someone was in the flat. I froze with fear and could have easily lost my mind in a state of panic, trying to reassure myself that my naked husband would handle everything and keep us all safe. James ran down the flying staircase, fists at the ready (despite being starkers) and came back up 10 minutes later brandishing a huge kitchen knife. He had searched the entire flat, all windows and doors were locked and there was no explanation. This time though, it was him who heard it and he told me he heard footsteps coming up the flying staircase towards us.

I can't for the life of me remember if we'd already started looking for a house at this point but if we hadn't, this would have made us start searching for sure. It's not as though either of us were too afraid to live there, James for one goes into fierce warrior mode and I just seemed to cope because I felt I had to. I had to hang in there a little longer until we had our own place and could leave Flat 4 behind for good. Whilst living there, hundreds of small things would happen like I'd misplace my belongings despite usually being a very neat person with my stuff. I also had two fairly serious accidents whilst living there despite being a safety freak and never doing anything remotely dangerous. Prior to living at Flat 4, I'd never had any accidents before but whether this is connected I honestly cannot say. I know for a fact my mental health was also under a lot of strain and there could have been contributing factors such as being very unhappy in my old job and constantly anxious about the flat, but I certainly felt a depressed chill in the air that made me very uncomfortable and even my Mum felt that something just wasn't right.

Things like this have happened throughout my life so whether I'm 'open' or 'sensitive' to it I'm not sure, all I know is what I experienced whilst living there could not be explained. When I was little, my Mum tells me I saw a 'person dressed in white' that no one else could see and I really have no idea what I saw. I vaguely remember it but then again is it just my mind telling me I remember or is it my imagination, imagining the scene of where I was and what I could have seen. Either way, I'm a believer due to my experiences and I know for sure that I didn't imagine the footsteps running through my flat, nor would James be the kind of person to hear things that really aren't there at all.

Has anything strange ever happened to you before?

Thanks for reading & Happy Halloween!


1 comment

  1. Oh wow! I love stories like this - the idea of ghosts and spirits fascinates me in ways that I can't even begin to explain! I had some really interesting experiences when I was living in residence at University, experiences that were shared by large numbers of other students who were living there at the time... when a dozen people report the same thing it's hard to deny it's true!
    Britt | http://alternativelyspeaking.ca

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