A
Anonymous
Guest
I thought I would finally get around to documenting some odd experiences I had in the house I grew up in in Auckland, New Zealand. These events happened in the 80s and 90s - I left home in 1996. I hope you find this interesting and not too long!
1. The location.
The family house in Titirangi, Auckland, New Zealand, was built in the 1930s when the area was quite rural and remote. Today Titirangi is approximately 20 minutes drive from the city centre, and has become a popular weekend destination due to the abundance of cafes and arts and craft shops.
As far as I am aware, the house was lived in from the beginning by a couple, and was sold to my mother in the mid-1970s when the original owners died. The house is a brick cottage on a one-third acre section, and in the mid-1980s had a new modern extension added, including a self-contained attached granny flat.
2. The “ghost” at the window
On a Saturday morning sometime around 1985, when I was 7 years old, I sat watching a morning children's variety television programme called "What Now", which used to run from 8-10am. During a commerical break, I ran into my parent's bedroom, where they were enjoying a lie-in, to tell them about what had been on the programme so far. I then ran back from the bedroom (part of the new extension, at the rear of the house) to the front room to continue watching. There is a connecting passageway that leads into the lounge from the rear of the house; as I came around the corner of the passageway and into view of the lounge I stopped in my tracks. The lounge has two sets of ceiling-to-floor French windows looking out onto a bricked patio, with a solid wall separating them. At about adult-chest height, a rectangular, white, wavy form was moving from right to left, from the interior of the house to the exteriod, straight through the French windows. I recall seeing the front part of the object appearing outside through the windows, indicating that whatever it was, it passed through the glass and wooden frame of the window. The object was transparent with the consistency of smoke. It was rectangular, with the long sides parallel to the ground. As it moved, the interior of the shape undulated, giving the appearance of many layers of lace-like fabric, although the object did not lose its overall rectangular shape. I recall that the object became obscured from view as it passed the the outside and behind the solid wall that separated the two sets of French windows. After observing the object, which probably took less than thirty seconds to disappear from view, I returned to my parent's bedroom to tell them what I had seen. I don’t recall their reaction. From then on I was fascinated by ghosts, which quickly became my major reading subject when visiting the local library! I have also retained a couple of creative writing exercise books from school from 1984/85, and my own attempts at fiction turned to the supernatural around this period, and one even includes what appears to be a description of what I saw in the house.
2. Knocks at the door, bumps, tugs, broken pots, presences and smells
Nothing as significant as the "ghost" appeared at the house during the next 10 or so years. My own bedroom directly connected to the lounge, and after the household had retired I often avoiding leaving my room for any reason if I could avoid it. The lounge area and connecting passage and dining room often had an unsettling atmosphere when not occupied by people. Although nothing was seen, a presence was often felt by myself, mostly at night but also occassionally when I was alone in the house during the day. There were a couple of instances of strong smells, including oranges and feijoas, when there was nothing in the house that could account for them.
One weekday afternoon sometime between 1987-1989, I was alone in the lounge constructing a robot out of Lego, while my mother worked in the rear of the house. Once I completed my model I stood to take it to show my mother. As I stood, I felt the robot being lifted straight out of my hands. I was holding the robot with both hands and let my arms be raised as the "force" dragged the model upwards. I then pulled it back down, and the "force" stopped. I recall this experience being puzzling rather than frightening.
When I was a teenager in the early 1990s it became a custom for my father to knock loudly on my bedroom door as a wake-up call most mornings. Frequently I was already awake and was anticipating the knock to come. On several occassions the knock came, but I discovered that my father was fast asleep at the time. Once, the knock sounded on the door and as I was actually out of bed I went opened it almost immediately. Nobody was there, and again there was nobody in that part of the house at the time. Around this time I also had frequent episodes of what I presume was sleep paralysis. On three or four occassions I awoke with a tremendous sense of presence in the room, with my bed covers being slowly pulled off. Each time I didn't think I was actually paralysed, as I remember pulling the covers back over me, engaging in a tug of war with the unseen force. On all occassions the sensation of presence vanished and the pulling of the bed clothes stopped in probably less than one minute.
Sometime in 1990/91, I was in the bathroom that was at the end of the passageway, and having washed my hands, turned from the basin to leave. There was a tremendous crash behind me, and I turned to discover that the potplant that had stood on a shelf above a mirror in the right-hand corner of the bathroom had apparently toppled off and fallen into the basin, shattering the pot. The shelf above the mirror is substantial, and usually has a pot or vase on it. If an object was placed on the very edge of the shelf so it overbalanced, it is quite possible that the object could fall, bounce on the counter top, and come to a rest in the basin. However, I firmly believe that the pot was securely placed on the shelf, as I had been using the mirror and would have noticed if the pot was protruding over the shelf edge. The pot also landed directly in the basin without apparently hitting the counter, which implies to me that the pot was given a not insignificant shove from behind.
Having been built in the 1930s, the house was old and not in top condition. The side of the house which included my bedroom, the passageway and the bathroom was actually subsiding, and there was a crack in my bedroom wall which expanded and contracted during the year. Part of the house definitely moved to some extent, which no doubt would explain some of the knocks and bumps that were heard by myself.
3. The figure at the table
The most striking and alarming experience I had in the house was late one Friday night sometime in 1991/92. My mother was a teacher and had borrowed a VHS video camera from her school to do some filming at the weekend. Once everyone had retired, I set the camera up on a tripod in the centre of the lounge, pointing down onto the floor. My intention was to record some tests of filming photographs onto video, and dubbing sound on at a later stage in order to create a video slide-show. I experimented for some time with this, recording short sections and trying fades, zooms etc. After a while, on a whim, I decided to turn the camera up and look at the room through the viewfinder, which was black and white. I started at one side and panned from right to left. On the left side of the room, the lounge becomes the dining room, connected only by a large, wide doorway that used to house another set of French doors.
As I panned the camera around, I was looking through the viewfinder the entire time. Seated at the end of the table was a black figure, facing not towards me but probably at 45 degrees. The figure consisted of a featureless black body, with no discernable arms, and a black head which was also blank and featureless except for two white eyes. I was stunned for a moment, then took my eye off the viewfinder and looked into the dining room. There was no figure there. Returning to the viewfinder, the figure was no longer visible. I was the only person awake at the time, my parents were asleep. As I had been working for quite a while on my slide-show I estimate the time was probably between midnight and 1am. I decided to pack the camera away and retire for the night.
The figure I observed through the viewfinder was truly remarkable, and I have one big regret – I was not filming at the time! There was a blank videotape in the camera but I had decided simply to pan around without recording. I don’t know if the figure “knew” I wasn’t recording, but if it had appeared and I was, I think it would have been a very important bit of footage! Shame!
Cheers,
Adam
1. The location.
The family house in Titirangi, Auckland, New Zealand, was built in the 1930s when the area was quite rural and remote. Today Titirangi is approximately 20 minutes drive from the city centre, and has become a popular weekend destination due to the abundance of cafes and arts and craft shops.
As far as I am aware, the house was lived in from the beginning by a couple, and was sold to my mother in the mid-1970s when the original owners died. The house is a brick cottage on a one-third acre section, and in the mid-1980s had a new modern extension added, including a self-contained attached granny flat.
2. The “ghost” at the window
On a Saturday morning sometime around 1985, when I was 7 years old, I sat watching a morning children's variety television programme called "What Now", which used to run from 8-10am. During a commerical break, I ran into my parent's bedroom, where they were enjoying a lie-in, to tell them about what had been on the programme so far. I then ran back from the bedroom (part of the new extension, at the rear of the house) to the front room to continue watching. There is a connecting passageway that leads into the lounge from the rear of the house; as I came around the corner of the passageway and into view of the lounge I stopped in my tracks. The lounge has two sets of ceiling-to-floor French windows looking out onto a bricked patio, with a solid wall separating them. At about adult-chest height, a rectangular, white, wavy form was moving from right to left, from the interior of the house to the exteriod, straight through the French windows. I recall seeing the front part of the object appearing outside through the windows, indicating that whatever it was, it passed through the glass and wooden frame of the window. The object was transparent with the consistency of smoke. It was rectangular, with the long sides parallel to the ground. As it moved, the interior of the shape undulated, giving the appearance of many layers of lace-like fabric, although the object did not lose its overall rectangular shape. I recall that the object became obscured from view as it passed the the outside and behind the solid wall that separated the two sets of French windows. After observing the object, which probably took less than thirty seconds to disappear from view, I returned to my parent's bedroom to tell them what I had seen. I don’t recall their reaction. From then on I was fascinated by ghosts, which quickly became my major reading subject when visiting the local library! I have also retained a couple of creative writing exercise books from school from 1984/85, and my own attempts at fiction turned to the supernatural around this period, and one even includes what appears to be a description of what I saw in the house.
2. Knocks at the door, bumps, tugs, broken pots, presences and smells
Nothing as significant as the "ghost" appeared at the house during the next 10 or so years. My own bedroom directly connected to the lounge, and after the household had retired I often avoiding leaving my room for any reason if I could avoid it. The lounge area and connecting passage and dining room often had an unsettling atmosphere when not occupied by people. Although nothing was seen, a presence was often felt by myself, mostly at night but also occassionally when I was alone in the house during the day. There were a couple of instances of strong smells, including oranges and feijoas, when there was nothing in the house that could account for them.
One weekday afternoon sometime between 1987-1989, I was alone in the lounge constructing a robot out of Lego, while my mother worked in the rear of the house. Once I completed my model I stood to take it to show my mother. As I stood, I felt the robot being lifted straight out of my hands. I was holding the robot with both hands and let my arms be raised as the "force" dragged the model upwards. I then pulled it back down, and the "force" stopped. I recall this experience being puzzling rather than frightening.
When I was a teenager in the early 1990s it became a custom for my father to knock loudly on my bedroom door as a wake-up call most mornings. Frequently I was already awake and was anticipating the knock to come. On several occassions the knock came, but I discovered that my father was fast asleep at the time. Once, the knock sounded on the door and as I was actually out of bed I went opened it almost immediately. Nobody was there, and again there was nobody in that part of the house at the time. Around this time I also had frequent episodes of what I presume was sleep paralysis. On three or four occassions I awoke with a tremendous sense of presence in the room, with my bed covers being slowly pulled off. Each time I didn't think I was actually paralysed, as I remember pulling the covers back over me, engaging in a tug of war with the unseen force. On all occassions the sensation of presence vanished and the pulling of the bed clothes stopped in probably less than one minute.
Sometime in 1990/91, I was in the bathroom that was at the end of the passageway, and having washed my hands, turned from the basin to leave. There was a tremendous crash behind me, and I turned to discover that the potplant that had stood on a shelf above a mirror in the right-hand corner of the bathroom had apparently toppled off and fallen into the basin, shattering the pot. The shelf above the mirror is substantial, and usually has a pot or vase on it. If an object was placed on the very edge of the shelf so it overbalanced, it is quite possible that the object could fall, bounce on the counter top, and come to a rest in the basin. However, I firmly believe that the pot was securely placed on the shelf, as I had been using the mirror and would have noticed if the pot was protruding over the shelf edge. The pot also landed directly in the basin without apparently hitting the counter, which implies to me that the pot was given a not insignificant shove from behind.
Having been built in the 1930s, the house was old and not in top condition. The side of the house which included my bedroom, the passageway and the bathroom was actually subsiding, and there was a crack in my bedroom wall which expanded and contracted during the year. Part of the house definitely moved to some extent, which no doubt would explain some of the knocks and bumps that were heard by myself.
3. The figure at the table
The most striking and alarming experience I had in the house was late one Friday night sometime in 1991/92. My mother was a teacher and had borrowed a VHS video camera from her school to do some filming at the weekend. Once everyone had retired, I set the camera up on a tripod in the centre of the lounge, pointing down onto the floor. My intention was to record some tests of filming photographs onto video, and dubbing sound on at a later stage in order to create a video slide-show. I experimented for some time with this, recording short sections and trying fades, zooms etc. After a while, on a whim, I decided to turn the camera up and look at the room through the viewfinder, which was black and white. I started at one side and panned from right to left. On the left side of the room, the lounge becomes the dining room, connected only by a large, wide doorway that used to house another set of French doors.
As I panned the camera around, I was looking through the viewfinder the entire time. Seated at the end of the table was a black figure, facing not towards me but probably at 45 degrees. The figure consisted of a featureless black body, with no discernable arms, and a black head which was also blank and featureless except for two white eyes. I was stunned for a moment, then took my eye off the viewfinder and looked into the dining room. There was no figure there. Returning to the viewfinder, the figure was no longer visible. I was the only person awake at the time, my parents were asleep. As I had been working for quite a while on my slide-show I estimate the time was probably between midnight and 1am. I decided to pack the camera away and retire for the night.
The figure I observed through the viewfinder was truly remarkable, and I have one big regret – I was not filming at the time! There was a blank videotape in the camera but I had decided simply to pan around without recording. I don’t know if the figure “knew” I wasn’t recording, but if it had appeared and I was, I think it would have been a very important bit of footage! Shame!
Cheers,
Adam
