Kings Basketball: August 2013

Last night I watched the Conjuring. It was not a film that I would normally watch but I was forced. The film itself was good, the cinematography, acting etc were spot on. It was, however, horrifying. People actually left the cinema covering their eyes. To most people the things you see in the film would be disturbing. To me they brought back memories I would rather forget.

I should start by saying, I don’t believe in God or the Devil. I’m an atheist – I don’t believe in the after life and therefore I don’t believe in ghosts. With this is mind I realise how ridiculous the story you are about to read sounds. But this is not dramatised or exaggerated. This not only happened – but could be confirmed by several people who were involved in one way or another. Although I’m not on the best terms with some of those involved anymore so I will not name those people.

The most disturbing thing is some of the things that happened also occur in the movie last night, and other films I have seen. I won’t point out the similarities between my own story and the movie as the film releases today and I imagine many of you will want to see it at the cinema. I will say – the Conjuring is based on a true story.

When I was 19 I bought my first place. It was a one bedroom flat in a quiet, leafy street in St. Mellons. On the first floor, it had a kitchen, bathroom and living room. Thebedroom was in the converted loft. The staircase to the loft was boxed in, creating an alcove in the living room. I put one of my sofas directly under the stairs. I was happy to have my own place and lived there without event for a good year. Then things started to get weird. Really weird.

My girlfriend at the time used to spend a lot of time at the flat with me. The living room was comfortable with a marine fish tank, a huge fluffy rug and two large sofas. One day we were lying on the rug watching TV. My GF dropped off to sleep as we lay in darkness, the only light was the illumination from the screen. After fifteen or so minutes of being asleep, she kicked me a couple of times. I didn’t think anything of it, I thought she was just twitching in her sleep as most people do. A few minutes later she sat bolt upright and screamed at me to turn the light on. I did, asking her what was wrong... ”Nothing.” I could see she was distressed as she picked up her belongings and demanded we went to her house to spend the night. After calming down she explained what had happened.

She could feel herself drifting off to sleep and could hear theTV. She could feel me lying next to her. Then someone crawled on top of her. This person pinned her down, her head to the side. She couldn’t open her eyes to see what was happening. She couldn’t scream as she couldn’t open her mouth. This thing on top of her, pinning her down, was screaming in her ear... but the sound coming out was like the old computer noises you when you used to dial up to the internet. She couldn’t understand why I wasn’t reacting to her being pinned down, or the piercing noise and the only part of her she could move was her leg. So she kicked me.

I thought it was a dream, I hadn’t seen anything or heard anything... although freaked out, she probably thought the same.

A couple of weeks went by and she slowly started coming back to the flat. Apart from the occasional instances of claiming I was pulling her toes in the night while she slept,nothing crazy happened. That is – not until a few months later.

We were sitting on the sofa underneath the stairs watching some TV. The front door opened and closed and somebody walked up the stairs into the loft – the living room door was closed so I couldn’t see who it was. I looked at my GF and asked if she heard that? “Heard what?” I replied – “nothing“– I didn’t want to alarm her. A couple of different people had a front door key to my place at the time so I went and had a look upstairs. Nobody there. I went to the window to look fora familiar car. Nothing. I even knocked the vacant flat next door to see if it was them. The flat was empty. I came back to the living room and my GF looked at me... “Do you want to come stay at mine tonight?” Disturbed, I was happy to go – still not letting on what had freaked me out.

When we got downstairs to the car she looked at me and said “I heard someone come in the door and go upstairs too – I was terrified. That’s why I didn’t say anything up there”.

We didn’t stay at the flat much after that. I spent some time there – I had to it was my home. And although scary sometimes, sleeping with the TV on made it bearable. Nothing big happened after that. My GF and I finished shortly after and I lived there full time.

Living the single life – the last thing I was going to say to girls was would you like to come to my haunted flat. So I didn’t bring it up. At this point I was happy to write off thethings that happened – I hadn’t seen anything or anyone, nothing had flown across the room and nothing unexplainable had happened for months.

As I started dating however... it started kicking off.

I had a girl stay. We had been out a couple of times. The next morning we were having pillow talk. “Why were youpulling my toes last night?” I went white as a sheet and laughed it off. I was shook though.

Not long after that I was dating a different girl. Out cold I get elbowed about 4 in the morning – “Please stop pulling my toes I have to get up for work in the morning.”

It’s a strange feeling. Because on the one hand nothing is happening to you, you aren’t experiencing anything. Nobody is touching you or disturbing you. On the other all these people are having the same thing happen to them, with no knowledge that the same thing happened to every girl who slept in my bed.

It came to a head when a girl who had stayed over a couple of times sat up in bed after having her toes pulled. She claimed she saw a man sitting on the end of the bed watching us sleep. She was screaming hysterically, begging me to turn on the light. After calming her down and assuring her it must have been a dream she seemed ok. She never came back though.

At this point I was convinced something was going on. As I said above I don’t believe in ghosts, but enough had happened that could not be explained. And unless girls from opposite ends of the city who didn’t know each other were all playing a huge joke on me – I had something in my flat pulling girl’s toes.

It was at this point that I met a girl that I liked. After staying at my flat a couple of times the same question arose. “Why were you pulling my toes last night? What’s up with that?” By now I had an answer prepared, “Sorry I must have done it in my sleep.” It was almost past being scary – I was waiting for it. The next night however, things would take a turn for the worse.

We had been out to the cinema and for some food. I might have had one beer. We get back to the flat and start doing what people do. I’m on top of her, and her moans of pleasure turn to screams of terror – and not in an AmericanPsycho way. I jump off the bed and turn on the light. Trying to calm her down and asking what’s wrong.

She said she looked up and could see a man behind me, he had his hands around my neck and he was strangling me. I was speechless, normally I would have laughed it off but after the constant toe pulling I felt sick. “Go downstairs and look in the mirror...”

I went downstairs, turning on every light on the way, she followed. I went in to the bathroom and turned on the light. There were finger marks all over my throat.

I was at my wits end. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t believe this stuff but there was no rational explanation. I had planned to go and stay at my sisters and popped into my friend’s GF mother’s house so he could grab some stuff before going back to the flat to pack a bag. I was telling her about it and she gave me a book to read which she thought would help. It was a religious book for people who had questions or who were going through a rough patch I guess. People who needed guidance. I didn’t need guidance I just needed a new place. As everything was happening to other people who came to my place I felt like I was the sane one. Although having all this happen was crazy.

I had no intention of reading the book but I didn’t want to seem rude. I went home, packed a bag, fed the fish and pushed the book on to the book shelf underneath the fish tank. The shelf was about 2 feet deep and the books were all pushed right to the back in a uniformed line. Closing the door behind me I had a chance to forget about everything for a few days.

A couple days passed by and, in a calmer frame of mind, I returned to feed my fish. When I walked in I found the religious book I had been given in the middle of the living room floor. All the other books were still on the shelf. I was sure I had put it on the shelf so I picked it up and put it back and fed the fish. I picked up some fresh clothes and was gone. I didn’t want to be there any longer than I had to be.

That weekend I had planned to go out so returned home to feed the fish and pick up a fresh shirt. I had a friend with me and he bumped into my back as I stopped dead in the living room door way. “What’s up?” The words washed over me as I stared blankly at the book in the middle of the living room floor.

I didn’t want to talk about it. We left.

We went to his house where he lived with his mother, her partner and his kids. His mother was a clairvoyant, which is something else I don’t think I believe in. When I sat down to get a cup of tea though she blew my mind. I expressly hadn’t told her what was happening, and had asked my friend to keep it to himself also.

“Everything ok?”

“Yes why?”

“Everything ok at your flat?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because you have a spirit there. I can see it with you now, it’s following you around.”

Mind = Blown. I told her everything that had happened, that I had to find places to stay, that I wasn’t going to work. She said she knew someone who may be able to help. That he would come to the flat and check it out. I told her I would be grateful of the help but no way was I going there. After the book incident – I had every intention of getting friends to go get me stuff and feed my fish. She talked to me about spirits and about some dark witches that used to practice in Marshfield. She also told me about the old people’s home that was a few streets over by the Bluebell Pub, and the likelihood of spiritual activity in the area. Again – I don’t believe in this stuff, but it’s difficult to discredit things which actually happen to you. I didn’t know what to believe.

That same week her friend went to the flat. He was from the Church of England and intended to bless the flat. The next day I got a phone call.

This guy from the church couldn’t get access to the flat or the lobby (I refused to go there) but he visited the outside. He said I had the spirit of a man in the flat. He was an alcoholic and didn’t realise he was dead. He couldn’t understand why I was painting his flat and having parties and girls over. The spirit now understood what had happened and was moving over to ‘the other side’.

At this point I am less and less sceptical. But even after everything that has happened I can’t get my head around what I am being told. I can’t believe that this man from the church believes that he had a conversation with a dead guy. After spending a few days plucking up some courage I went back to the flat and walking through the lobby one of neighbours popped out to see me. He asked where I had been lately and I replied - just staying with some friends. I asked him if he had seen anything strange or met anyone the day before. He hadn’t. I asked him who lived in the flat before I bought it.

“Well a girl lived there before you, for about two years. She moved into a bigger place. Before her a man lived there. He was an alcoholic though and died from it. It was very sad”

I sold the flat not long after that, but I stayed there sporadically. Nothing ever happened after the visit from the Church of England. No toe pulling. The first thing I did was throw the religious book out though. When people ask me now if I believe in Ghosts I tell them no. I tell them I don’t want to believe... Then I tell them the story. I’m still not sure how I feel about it all, but watching similar things happen to other people in films that are ‘based on true stories’ is extremely unsettling.

I couldn’t even have nachos last night.