Shared Accommodation

Chuck's asked us to write something down-right creepy. Well, mine starts off creepy and ends on a happy note.

enjoy.

I moved into my townhouse September 8^th, 2002.

It was about the fiftieth place we had looked at – and the best one so far. It was very welcoming, pretty and looked like nobody had lived in it for quite some time.

I really should have asked about that, but I didn’t.

Well, after applying for it, and getting it almost immediately, I packed up my bedroom of belongings and moved out of my parents’ house faster than they could fart.

It took about two days to move in and over a month to unpack. And even then, my folks were still bringing things over that belonged to me – but I never let on that I was having problems with the place.

Anyway, I found I had to have a spare front door key in my pocket every time I left the house for even a few seconds, because the main door would slam shut and deadlock. The first time this happened, I called the real estate and they happily came out and opened the door and handed me two bunches of keys with four copies of the front door key on it.

I found this strange, and should have asked… but didn’t. I just said, “Four front door keys.” and expected them to tell me, but they gave me a shrug; so they didn’t know either.

Within about the second month, I was being woken up by somebody at the end of my bed at 2am. Talk about freaky! By the time I turned on my reading lamp, she was gone! And nope, I couldn’t sleep again. I’d lay there with my hands under the pillow, holding onto the spare bunch of house keys, making sure they were still there.

Oh, I didn’t tell you did I? My house keys kept on going missing. I’d walk through the front door, place them in the bowl on the stand by the stairs, open the back door (which is a different bunch of keys – why I didn’t know at the time) and then, return to the front door to find the original bunch had vanished into thin air!

And I'd find them in the strangest places!
In the oven (not turned on)
In the pantry, in the fridge, in the freezer, washing machine, dryer (with the door closed), in the toilet cisterns (just how did they get in those??? I have two toilets!) and the last place I'd look - under my bed! 

So, after weeks of this, I had had enough!

It was time to talk to the neighbours.

I walked outside (making sure I had my spare key on me) and found two of them gas-bagging not far away and asked them about the history of my place. As I did, I heard the front door slam hard; knowing it was going to locked by the time I got home.

“Well, you’re the fifth person to try to live there.” The older lady, Tina said, “And you’ve lasted the longest.”

The other neighbour, Jenny, sighed, “I’m surprised you’re not scared to death yet.”

“I am. I keep getting woken up at 2am three nights a week by an angry old woman… but she won’t stick around for me to look at her properly.” I replied.

“Wait here.” Tina went back inside her house, returning with a photo of an old lady whose hair was graying and frizzy, dressed in a blue house dress standing outside my townhouse. But the garden was differently done and she wasn’t smiling – just standing here, “Was this her?”

I looked carefully, “Yes. She’s not happy.”

The woman took the photo back hesitantly, “I can’t help you.” And she raced back inside.

Jenny shook her head, “Don’t worry, Tina is Polish; and very superstitious. She believes in ghosts.”

“Oh… so do I. But I’ve never come across anything like this.”

“Well, here’s the goss… they’ve been trying to place people in that townhouse for over a year. People will sign a lease and then within 3 weeks, they’ll run screaming from the place in the middle of the night, throwing the keys back at the real estate. Nobody has ever stayed as long as you.”

I was determined to stay, ghost or no ghost, “Thanks. I’ve got an idea, and it just might work.”

Two nights later, on schedule, I was woken up by the same lady I saw in the photo. But this time, I didn’t turn on the light.

This time, I asked her to wait. She did, but she wasn’t happy.

You may not believe this part: we talked about her situation and mine. I made her a promise – one which I’ve kept – so long she promised to cross over, which she did that night.

The problem with ghosts who ‘come home’ to their original homes is that sometimes they don’t like the change. My ghost’s problem was that she was the original owner of my townhouse… she bought it when it was brand new in 1989; and what happened to her was totally unfair and out of her hands – as it is most times. She fell down the stairs and shattered her hip, and she wasn’t found until 3 days later by her family. However, she was left for too long and the doctors advised the family to move her to a care facility where she passed away 6 months later. She thought she was coming home when she died… when really she didn’t know what happened.

When she met me – after almost a year of haunting this place – I knew the communication between us wouldn’t be equal, so I told her what happened to her place since she was gone). She didn’t like how things turned out, and didn’t like me at all.

I know you’ll all think this is crap… once she moved on, kept my promise to her; and my townhouse has the feeling of a tiny, cosy house; just as she would have liked. I made her ‘home my home,’ just as she did.

It’s been 14 years since I helped her. And just last month, I felt her looking around. I called out to her at 1am… asking if she liked the place; as she woke me at that time from a deep sleep. How did I know it was her? She makes the house incredibly – unseasonably – freezing cold for about a minute or so, then it goes back to normal. Yep, this is a spirit who checks up on me. Now… I’m hoping to move out soon into a better place. Exactly how am I going to tell the next person to be nice to the resident ghost?