Who Let The Geist In?
” ….something had hit the car with a lot of force causing him to break suddenly and he had bruises on his ribs, his back and his thighs…”Who Let The Geist In? Part 5
The Incident, or whatever my mother was calling the episode of ‘that which didn’t happen, but really did’, wasn’t discussed in the following days or week. Equally, l don’t recall seeing Mrs Rossi coming around to the house anymore, but was aware that my mother was a frequent visitor to hers – l know this because l followed my mother on a few occasions and she went to the ladies house!
The day that my father returned home from his business trip away and having experienced a small but in truth rather large car accident on his returning journey, was not ‘not’ discussed either by my mother, but he still found it a strange incident because he was sitting at a T Junction and there was no one behind him, in front or anywhere really near him, and YET. The car was suddenly ‘smacked about somewhat’, was his terming.
“It was really strange, l was sitting there at the junction, there was no one around me and suddenly the car was lurching this way and that way and l was being shoved and pushed like a giant fist was trying to hustle me out of the car through the window!? I can tell you, it was bloody odd, spooked me a little as well. I pulled over into a layby, got out for some fresh air and that’s when l noticed all the dents on the driver’s door, it was like something had hit it repeatedly!”
It was a very odd time … tensions were high in the house – the hostilities between my parents hadn’t gotten any better either. Worse than that, my mother had become even more hostile to me since the ‘elephant in the room incident that didn’t happen! But more annoying was that so too had my sister – she was normally aloof to such things and yet, she was starting to pester and tease more than normal! I remember thinking that things HAD to get better somehow for this family, because something bad was going to happen if it didn’t!
Years later, a Catholic priest would inform me that l had created the problems in my household, that l had unwittingly encouraged the Devil to come play with the family. I was raised as a Catholic. My parents were not specifically religious – my father was also raised as a Catholic and his own parents had wanted him to be ordained as a Roman Catholic priest – my father always answered with the word Chance to his parents – “Little and No Effing!” This caused a lot of problems for him when growing up. My mother before marriage had been a Salvation Army girl which caused at times open warfare between my father’s parents and my mother. When she married my father, she had to take on board his faith which didn’t go down well with her.
I attended Sunday School when l lived in Malaysia, and attended until my First Communion in 1970, when l was 7. But an incident befell me – which l rarely discuss – my parents had to step on board, although no arrests were made, and l suddenly was apparently no longer actively Catholic. My father at the same time decided that he was done for good with the Roman Catholic religion as it was filled with liars and not nice people who shouldn’t be entrusted with any children let alone young boys!
I grew up between the ages of 5 and 9 being very confused with religion, did l believe in God? No, l didn’t, but then l couldn’t prove that IT did or did not exist – l just personally didn’t believe that IT could. BUT my father was convinced IT didn’t, and my mother was convinced that HE did! I didn’t give two hoots; l was just tiring of going to church or Sunday School and taking prayer in something l logically could not get my head around. There were other problems l was having to deal with between those ages …. like a mother who kept on sticking pins into a doll that was my father. The amah’s kept on looking at my mother and when they saw her, walked the other way…. to say it was an odd time, truly is an understatement!
Anyway … l digressed, of sorts … in 1976 – religion was a very controversial subject both at home and at school for me. I was always getting into trouble at school for my religious beliefs or lack of them – because l simply refused to play along with one focused ideology. Why were we being taught this way, and that way – when we should have been taught of the way of many? I was frequently caned at school for questioning the Faith and so l started to really, not like religion at all and considered it one of the worst lessons and a serious waste of my brain time – which l didn’t hesitate to tell the teachers.
This caused me problems at home, because of my father’s hatred for religion and my mother’s wacked out sense of belief!! Then the real irony started, my parents would argue about my religion and l would then get spanked by my father for not believing despite the fact that he didn’t believe, but because it was easier to spank me because it got his wife off his back! I soon started to also hate religion!
So when in 1979 a Catholic priest criticised me for my religious beliefs and l struck him, and shoved him out of my room and kicked him down the stairs … not only was l considered evil, but l was then branded a lover of the Devil!
In the very later months of 1976, we were as a family preparing to leave Australia with the firm knowledge that we were never going to return. The house was being packed up. A good 90% of my books were burned in the back garden which did cause some resentment with me, especially as they were not bad books, but mostly works of study and ghost stories and so on. I had all the original books written by the likes of Erich von Daniken which l found thoroughly fascinating and Dennis Wheatley and Peter Straub and many others. It upset me bitterly – but it didn’t ultimately matter, for in the next 18 months not that l knew then, but l would replace them all and some.
They – my parents – defended this act by saying that the books were bad for my health combined with they were not allowed to take books back to the UK with them! Plus, l was going to the 11th Australian Scout Jamboree in December, so l had that to look forward to ………. l know what you are thinking, probably the same as me …… so? What has that got to do with burning books?
What was really causing the most problems however, was the ‘stuff and the weird shit that was happening daily’, that didn’t include the strange dreams l was having or the fact that suddenly l started sleep walking – something l had never done – or finally the fact that l started speaking very strangely indeed to the walls in the house or to the chairs in the dining room!
Things went missing in the house, things moved, windows broke, windows opened, doors slammed, doors creaked open, strange smells, cold spells on really hot days, things were seen, people were seen that weren’t there by not just me, or my family, but neighbours saw people in the house when we were not home, screams in the middle of the night which woke the entire household, Jasmine the family cat was constantly freaked out. Crockery moved, water appeared in puddles on the floor, baths over ran despite knowing no one running a bath …………… if that wasn’t enough, then the voices became a real problem.
By the end of 1976, the house had been sold and we as a family moved out of what my parents were fully convinced was a house that had suddenly become haunted … for no reason. For the remaining couple of weeks my parents rented a small flat close to the port where the Australis would take us to England on the 26th January 1977.
It was believed that whatever was in 4 Margaret’s Avenue, Seaford, Victoria – stayed there ….
Thanks for reading … Part 7 – Soon.