Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Paranormal, or Possum?

Image from HERE

Do you believe in ghosts?
I'm not sure.

I have lived in enough old places to know that energies exist, residual perhaps? I don't really know, I like to think that there is a myriad of plausible explanations for most supposed paranormal activity, however, I've seen shadows from the corner of my eye, heard the house settling and sworn it was footsteps, I watch way too many ghost hunting shows and my imagination can sometimes run away with me.

Can they hurt you? I'd like to think not, I don't think that it's the dead we should fear so much as the living, but ask me if you should engage in communication with something that you think may be a ghost and whether I believe it or not, I will give you an answer of HELL NO.

You just don't mess with that stuff. Ever.

I was once told by a reliable source that anything that will use fear to gain your attention is to be avoided, and by avoided I mean at all costs, something's we weren't meant to understand.
Some things need to be left alone.

What is it with our need to know every. fucking. thing?

Meanwhile, last night, about 11pm, I was replying to various emails I probably should have replied to about three weeks ago, when there was a panicked knock on my front door.

It wasn't a ghost, I promise, but it was the very ashen face of my dear neighbor, who was very pale and quite frantic, she stood on my doorstep, visibly shaking, claiming that there was "something" in her house.
That something was currently in her laundry, and it growled at her.

I grabbed a frying pan, remembered I used to play rugby and together we went to investigate, expecting to do battle with a pissed off possum or similar.

Walking into her kitchen I heard a scratching sound. I then heard something shift across the tiles in the laundry and I braced myself, fry pan poised.
I turned to see my neighbor standing on a chair in the corner of the kitchen peering out at me from behind the fridge door.

I went to turn the handle to the laundry when I heard a deep guttural growl, it didn't sound like any possum I had ever heard, not that I actually hear many possums, but it sounded a little like a fox, or a dog. Perhaps a very large pissed off feral cat.

We live in a fairly rural area; we have roo's, foxes, possums, large bats and rodents on a regular basis. Her laundry window had been left open, and it really could have been anything.
I began to feel a little less brave.

(For those of you who are overseas, kangaroo's are not cute and cuddly in real life, they don't deliver the mail, they don't save children from wells and you can't ride them, your Australian pen pal lied to you.
They are aggressive, territorial, covered in lice, smell like ass and can be very dangerous.)

We then heard a large scraping sound, it could have been in the laundry, it could have been in the ceiling, we weren't quite sure, we were sure though, that we looked absolutely ridiculous.

Having a bit of a giggle, I turned the handle again, fry pan poised, expecting a large animal to bust out and chew my face off at any second.

I flung the door open and flicked the light on as quickly as I could while my neighbour stood behind me, with another frying pan.

We peered into the laundry to see nothing. No possum, no kangaroo, no pissed off feral cat.

It was then we heard scratching coming from the ceiling, just behind the man hole. Relieved it was not skippy's evil twin coming to disembowel me with it's powerful hind legs,  I pointed to the ceiling and grabbed a nearby broom, and gave the man hole several large bangs with the broom handle, and we heard nothing.
No animal scurrying away, no more scratching. No more growling.

Puzzled I looked at my neighbor, we had both heard something quite large moving about her laundry, we had both heard the growl and the scratching, and very much expected there to be a menacing something behind the door.

We stood in the middle of her laundry for a second, puzzled, straining to hear anything and trying to locate the direction of the noise, could it be sound traveling up the hill through the window? Could it be loose floor boards from the kitchen, or perhaps the loungroom?

All of a sudden we heard the growl again; it was the same growl we heard from behind the door, low, guttural, menacing and loud. We both jumped in response and fled to the loungroom.

The sound was not coming from the ceiling, or from up the hill, the sound was very much in the laundry, we heard it echo off the tiles, like there was a large animal right in front of us, only we were standing in the laundry at the time. There was NOTHING in there.
 We both jumped, and we both fled.

Wer then made the very brave decision to let her large dog inside, perhaps the dog would sniff out the animal, only her dog would not venture in the laundry, she stood there, tail between her legs, staring intently into the laundry as we were, but she would not venture inside.

this disturbed us both a little too much so we slammed the laundry door shut.

After we composed ourselves, my neighbour half-jokingly offered that it could be a ghost, I said a silent prayer for Ryan Beull to turn up on her doorstep, with holy water, rosary beads... and preferably, naked if it wasn't stretching the friendship too far.

Ryan Beull, ghost hunter extraordinaire- Image from HERE

My neighbor was very worried I would think she was crazy, I didn't & had I have not heard this awful growl myself, or the distinct sound of shifting in her laundry, or the dogs reaction, I may have doubted her, and even after being momentarily distracted by the thought of a naked Ryan Beull, I didn't doubt her for a second.

As we sat on her lounge, ears straining for any noise, expecting to see swarms of flies, or perhaps one of our heads to start spinning around, or one of the children to come out, piss on the carpet and vomit pea and ham soup, I instructed her, that in my opinion, she need either an exterminator, W.I.R.E.S or a priest, and we sat shakily, sipping coffee till her husband returned from work to see two hysterical women in his lounge room clutching coffee cups and frying pans, claiming possible paranormal activity.

Soon calm was restored, all the growling stopped, and by all the growling I mean the two we heard, and I made the very long journey, (two houses down) back to my house, in the dark, after insisting her husband wait for me on his veranda just in case I came under spiritual attack on the way home.

Had the night allowed our imaginations run wild? Probably. Was it most likely a possum in her roof? Yes. 
Could it have been a sound traveling up the hill? Could it have been the sound of a lingering fox outside, more likely than not, yes. All of these things seem very plausible.

In the light of day I could think of a thousand reasons for the noise, I ask myself why we didn't just look in the man hole?

We didn't look in the man hole, because last night, the fear was VERY real.

Do I believe in ghosts? Last night I did.

Do you? 

1 comment:

Roxanne P-CH said...

What a fantastic story. I'm similar to you, lived in way to many old houses to not believe, but not sure what I believe either. There have been occasions I know there is something other than us, but away from it it's also easy to rationalize. Usually!! Glad I stumbled across your blog, look forward to reading more.