A Medium, or just well done? Excuse me Nurse! He papered the walls with what? More haunted houses.

Excuse me Nurse! Hospitals are places we don’t want to know about until we really need them. Many people leave this life via the emergency room or a lonely bed in an even lonelier ward. I’ve been into a few hospitals over time either as a patient or in my work and never saw a spirit at all. I was living the bachelor life in the late 90’s while my ex-wife visited our son in Canada for a couple of months. I know how to cook, actually I’m pretty good at it but having better things to do I began eating TV meals, meat pies and takeaway. My gall bladder decided to rebel one night and for anyone who has had an attack then you’ll know how bad they are. Intense pain, projectile vomiting, farting like an elephant but oh the pain. The upshot of it all was I ended up in hospital for five days, nil by mouth for the first three and a half. Believe me I really didn’t want to eat. Nights in hospital can be lonely and the visit by nurse to take your temp and blood pressure is a welcome break. The other patients in the six bed ward were zonked out every night, so I would lay there and watch nurse as she did her rounds. No, not perving I was watching the man in spirit as he walked about two steps behind her. He’d stand at the end of the bed while she wrote on the chart and gaze over her shoulder. I’ll call her Nancy, she had a run of about four night shifts and I would chat with her. After the second night of watching the man follow her every move I asked him who he was. After getting over the shock that I could see him he said, ‘Oh, I’m her Dad. I passed away last year and I get worried when she works night shift.’ Nancy left the ward and Dad followed. I went to sleep and Nancy came back a couple of hours later to perform the obs. I had to ask, ‘Look Nancy, your Dad. Did he pass away last year.’ She gave me that look and I went on, ‘Seriously. Look, there’s a man following you around the place, he reckons he’s your Dad and he’s not happy about you doing nights.’ I gave her a description and she said, ‘Oh. Well it sounds like him but I think you’re too sick and you’re seeing things. Now go to sleep.’

He papered the walls with what? An old workmate, John rang me one night and asked if I would mind coming over to the house he’d moved into the previous week. Something was happening there and it scared his wife and if the truth were known, him too. Having nothing better to do I drove over to see what calamity had befallen them. John met me at the door and ushered me into their spacious house. His wife waved at me from the lounge and retreated to the kitchen, no she didn’t return with a cuppa tea. I looked around from where I stood, trying to pick up some indication of what the problem could be. John said, ‘Where do you want to start?’ – ‘I’ll do a walk-through Mate, see what I pick up.’ The house was in an L shape and I started at the far end of the corridor. It didn’t take long and I stopped outside a room near the front door. Sometimes a house will speak to me, whisper its secrets and tell me its deepest feelings. The arguments, the love, hate, good times and bad. This house brooded and sulked, its displeasure became obvious when I opened the door. The air felt stale, heavy with an odour of old clothing and an unwashed human. John hovered behind me and said, ‘Are you going in?’ – I turned and said, ‘Are you?’ – ‘Well, I don’t want to but I should.’ – ‘Damn right you should, come on.’
Have you ever had a room try to choke you? Suffocate you and push you back out of the door? This one did. I walked straight over to the far wall, leaned against it and looked back at the doorway, ‘Close the door John.’ The look on his face was priceless. I closed my eyes and felt two things, the source of the anxiety and choking and the fear of the previous owner. John hung around the door and said, ‘When we moved in the house felt okay until we stuck this bed and dresser in here. It was when I looked into the walk-in wardrobe here, well, didn’t I get a shock. The bloke who owned the house was a copper, his wife left him and he went a little crazy. He moved into this room and apparently went really crazy. He told people someone was trying to get him in the room and drag him away.’ I looked at the mirror on the sliding door of the wardrobe, it shimmered and darkened, ‘So, what did you find in there?’ – ‘He finally moved into the wardrobe to sleep at night and because he couldn’t get away from whatever’s here, he papered the walls with pages from the bible.’ I took a look into the wardrobe and patches of paper were still stuck to the wall. John had given up on trying to get them off. ‘Okay John, how about this, you stay by the door and I’ll tune in and see what’s going on.’ Feeling a little overconfident I returned to the wall, leaned back and closed my eyes.
The creaking of mooring ropes were a constant as the sailing ship moved up and down against the wharf on the incoming tide. The ever-present seagulls hovered amongst the sails, fighting for a place on the spar, waiting for the cook to come out with his bucket of scraps. A short, thick-set young man came from below decks carrying a duffel bag and swag, slinging the swag over his back he made his way down the gangplank. First stop, a public house where he could spend some of his coin, then the long trip to Ipswich and from there south, to northern New South Wales. For a few drinks and some tales of life at sea he found himself a ride on a bullock dray heading to Oxley, camping there that night. Then he went on by foot to Ipswich the following morning. Stopping at a hotel on the southern outskirts of Ipswich, he drank his fill and staggered into the night to find a place to roll out his swag. He didn’t notice the two men who followed him, and soon settled into a deep sleep. They waited until they heard his snores before pouncing on him. Overenthusiastic with their clubs they shattered his skull. After  slinging his body into a cart from the back of the hotel they drove further out into the bush. They removed his clothes, stuck his body under a dead-fall tree, piled as much dead wood around him as they could and set fire to it. His death went unnoticed and his bones were long gone by the time the bushland was cleared for a housing estate over a century later. His grief, pain and misery seeped into the new house and found a like-minded soul waiting to be tormented.

imagesCAA3MQSNPicture courtesy of Wikipedia commons.
I gave John a rundown on what I saw while keeping an eye on the mirror. It grew even darker and I gave my usual speech, ‘Do you know that you’re dead Matey?’ It darkened even more, ‘You were murdered.’ BLACK. ‘You’re upsetting the people who live here, they haven’t hurt you.’ BLACKER. ‘There’s somewhere you need to be and it’s not here. Have a look behind you.’ The mirror shimmered and grew lighter, ‘That’s it, there’s a light over there, go and have a look.’ The mirror flared briefly with light, and slowly brightened as whatever lived there faded away. I believe the sailor’s spirit was disturbed when the house was built over his resting place. Being murdered while asleep and drunk must have been confusing for his spirit, then having a house and people move in would have angered him. The only thing left in the room now was the lingering emotions of the previous owner. I asked for the whole house to be doused with healing white light and to go through every room and wash out the negativity. Simple really. Fear is what keeps many spirits earth-bound and I felt for the sailor who found himself locked in a new world. Oh yes, I did get my cuppa tea.

This is what you get for putting three old buildings together.  Whenever I went into town I would drop into a local crystal shop and have a talk with the owner. Tony and his partner were mediums who worked the spiritualist churches. If they were short of a psychic reader I would hop in and do readings for them. In between clients I’d stand at the counter and chat with customers. A woman, who I’ll call Melanie came in and the subject arose about haunted houses, ‘My husband and I are presently putting three buildings together and there’s something odd going on.’ Never being one to hide my light behind a bushel I volunteered to have a look at the home for her. I arranged to meet her at Forest Hill a few days later and she led me out to her property. It wasn’t far off the old road from Ipswich to Toowoomba, which is now only passable by horse or motorbike. I parked outside the fence and stared at their home. A magnificent old Queenslander stood there with something resembling a community hall on one side and half a Queenslander on the other. They were right into old collectables, farm machinery and statues. Each to their own I thought as I followed her into the house. I’d brought my divining rods in case I needed them. I made mine from brass rods and used them for many things, one of which was locating spirits that don’t want to be seen.
Melanie led me upstairs into the main part of the house and we stopped inside the front entrance. Sticking the rods in my belt, I knew I wouldn’t need them here, I moved slowly into the lounge room. What a house, everything was pre 1900. The place virtually hummed with psychic energy from just about every piece of furniture in the place. I looked at Melanie, raised my eyebrows and said, ‘You certainly weren’t kidding when you told me about the activity. I have to move out of this room. it’s like listening to a hundred radio stations at once.’ We returned to the corridor and went into the master bedroom. Three different sets of spirits resided here. I’d never seen anything like it in one room before. Two sets were what I call holograms, a part of the spirit, usually made up of emotions that stays in a recognisable human form. Locked into a place they repeat an act or feeling over and over again until they eventually dissipate. The first set comprised a man and a woman who stood next to the huge canopied bed. I believe they came with the bed, like pillow cases and sheets. I told Melanie about them and she felt better when I explained they couldn’t see her. That they were basically something like a TV show. The next set was another man and woman who stood just inside the doorway, next to a large, antique dresser. They were in garb that put them in the late Victorian era.
The girl standing in the corner was in spirit and came with the house, I would have put her at about 16, she was dressed for bed in an ankle length nightgown with a ruffled collar. She didn’t want to communicate at all and stared at me as if I were haunting the place. I felt she was so involved with the building that she didn’t want to leave. I told Melanie that if she wanted the holograms gone then the bed and dresser were the things to get rid of. The girl? Well, if they don’t want to talk then there’s not much you can do. I think she felt as if she were still alive and everybody else were ghosts. I always ask for white light and some form of guidance for spirits like this, to come forward and help take them to where they need to be. If she felt this way towards me though, I didn’t hold much hope for any spirit guide sent to help her.
Next stop, the hall. We stood at the end of the veranda and Melanie said, ‘Do you have any ideas on what it was used for?’ I thought about the inside and felt around, it’s like sending a little bit of yourself on a recce, ‘Hmm, a lot of sick people died in there, hospital?’ – ‘It was a community hall used after a breakout of dysentery in the 1800’s I believe and they put the sick children in there.’ Bloody hell, why would you buy a building like that? She opened the door and I walked slowly inside. The windows were boarded up on the far wall and a layer of dust-covered the floor. I must explain here that even though I white light myself before walking into people’s haunted houses, it doesn’t stop the barrage of emotion that oozes around such places. It eases the impact of the calls and cries of those who have died in pain and despair. Standing in the centre of the room I asked for white light healing for those souls caught up in such pain. It’s like pouring love into a place. Sometimes human interaction with spirit guides and the dead is needed to help them move on. I don’t like to see anyone suffering in spirit, so I spent half an hour in there channelling healing and light.
Next week: Melanie’s house continued and using divining rods for locating spirit and other energies.

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37 thoughts on “A Medium, or just well done? Excuse me Nurse! He papered the walls with what? More haunted houses.

    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      It was quite odd Bruce, didn’t help him one iota. It could be poetical though. I can imagine him cowering in the wardrobe sobbing with fright. Already suffering depression he’d be a prime candidate for a restless, angry spirit.

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  1. Patricia Salamone

    Thank you Fratello. I look forward to reading your post’s, they never disappoint. Still emptying boxes and trying to deal with the stress that has gathered around me. Hopefully I can deal with the situations that have arisen, and will be back to normal (what ever that is) in the coming days, weeks? I look forward to reading the rest of the story about Melanie’s house and anything else you have to offer. It keeps me sane. :o)

    Peace
    Sorella

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    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      You’re welcome Sorella. This unpacking is certainly taking your time. 😦 I do hope all is well. Normal? What’s normal?
      😉 Melanie’s story is an interesting one. I’m glad to be helping your sanity.
      Cheers
      Fratello.

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  2. olganm

    Great stories again. I imagine people want the history and the old features that come with old houses but they might get more than what they bargained for. Looking forward to more of Melanie’s house.

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    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      Thanks Olga. You’re right, when you get into these old places you often get more than you bargained for. Yes, there will be more next week and interesting too.

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  3. ksbeth

    more great experiences, laurie. i think you might want to make them into a book one day – p.s. i’ve always had a thing about antique furniture because i feel it kind of carries a person’s spirit with it. i tend to shy away from antiques.

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    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      Thanks beth. Yes they’re all stashed away for when I’ve done my novels. People certainly leave something on the things they were attached to in life. Imagine someone bedridden and dying there. The timber would absorb the feelings. The only antique I have is a 165 year old Bowie knife and that was never used by anyone.

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  4. Eli Pacheco

    I can imagine how confusing the afterlife would be to one taken out while drunk and sleeping. I love how you can sometimes mitigate the situation like this. Sometimes, all you need is a guide. And sometimes, some won’t be guided. It’s a lot like life.

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    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      Confusing is the word Mate, especially if the person doesn’t believe that there’s something there. It can be difficult for people like the sailor, who are numbed as it were. You’re certainly right, we need that guide in life. It’s sad that people don’t ask for help when needed, because there’s always somebody who will hold a hand out.

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  5. suzjones

    I went out in sympathy with you when you wrote about the gall stones. I likened the pain of my attack to being in labour without the break between contractions. I too spent several days in hospital only they removed my gall bladder (thank goodness).
    Entertaining read once again. You have a better constitution than I do as I would be panic stricken walking into the room with the sailor.

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    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      Yes, there’s nothing like a gall attack to make you think twice Suz. it was like having a large sword pushed through your back. I had it out about three months later. The surgeon asked me if I wanted to go private and he’d take it out. you betcha! I asked what would happen if I left it until I could get in on the public list, ‘Oh, you’d be dead by then.’ It had infected and the bladder shrunk around the stones. Yuk.
      Glad you enjoyed the read. I’ve been thinking it’s no different to handling rowdy, drunken and terrified people when I was a copper. the only difference is the dead can’t hurt you. 🙂

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      1. suzjones

        The only reason mine was removed expediently was because my local GP sent me to the emergency room of the Mater and then rang the hospital and told them I was coming. She faxed everything to them and told them that I was to be admitted. I was in surgery early the next morning.

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      2. laurie27wsmith Post author

        I think they were short of public beds at the time. They treat me like a drug addict when I first turned up, because I didn’t go by ambulance. Left me writhing in agony on the bed. The doc changed his mind when I spewed half a litre of bile over his pants. 😉

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  6. thisisnotbangkok

    Nurse: very simply told and effective. It seems like the nurse was trying to use your illness as a way to either not deal with her dad or because she didn’t believe in the paranormal. But you can’t convince people of something they do not believe in or not want to hear. Papering the Walls: a riveting read and fascinating story. Once again, I like the way you explain your methods and why you do what you do, along with telling the story itself. Melanie’s House: fascinating so far. Looking forward to the rest of it. Overall, a 4 – star post Laurie. I loved it.

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    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      I found her attitude unusual Michael, mainly because nurses deal with death and dying on a daily basis. At least she knew that her dad was around, whether she believed it or not It helps to let people know how things work, they get a picture in their mind then.
      More will be explained with the rods next week at Melanie’s house. It was an experience and a half indeed. I’m glad you enjoyed it Michael, oh and thanks for the stars.

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      1. thisisnotbangkok

        Glad to give you the stars. You earned them. Once again, I really like the fact that you explain how you do things and the reasons for them. This adds so much to your credibility and authenticity.

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      2. thisisnotbangkok

        Well you do not strike me as anyone but straightforward and honest. I am a good reader of people, in this case even though we have not met. Plus, you EXPLAIN what you do and everything gels with my knowledge of the paranormal. I think the series is working out brilliantly. It is something to be proud of.

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      3. laurie27wsmith Post author

        I actually hold some stuff back because I know people won’t believe it Michael. I like to explain it, to make sure that there are no misunderstandings. Thanks, I am proud of it because one day I’ll be making a book out of it, like all the other posts I think.

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      4. thisisnotbangkok

        Outstanding idea. I think these stories would make a great book. Speaking of which, I am 70% done with MOD. Chapters 16 and 17 were BRUTAL, yet equally compelling to read. Fantastic back stories of the characters. I will email you more after I finish it.

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      5. laurie27wsmith Post author

        I thought so Michael. Good to see you’re still going on MOD. It’s kind of like a train wreck in progress, you know what’s happening is brutally painful but you have to keep looking at it. I look forward to hearing your opinion.
        Cheers
        Laurie.

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  7. hitandrun1964

    Another wonderful post. It’s hard to imaging spirits being attached to furniture in some way. I understand place or people but a dresser? How does that happen? Is it a choice or just something familiar? I would never but a place where people died…not churches or hospitals or anything like them. Unsettling.

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    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      It’s not the spirit per se Gigi. As I said it’s an emotional part of the person that can stay with the item. No, I wouldn’t want to live in something like that neither, too unsettling.

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      1. laurie27wsmith Post author

        You’re welcome. When we die, naturally our physical body breaks down, that leaves our emotions, mental self, and spirit. If we are emotionally attached to something then that part of us can stay there. With the mental part I believe that’s what hangs around in a home, especially when there is turmoil.

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  8. davidprosser

    Laurie you must have had the constitution of an ox to withstand the barrage of emotions thrown at you on days like these. Even on lesser occasions it can be draining. How do you cope dealing with the fear of children who don’t yet understand what’s happened?
    Keep well Matey.
    Hugs

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    1. laurie27wsmith Post author

      I think I’m a little thick skinned Dave. Thankfully it’s only fleeting (usually) although it can get a little upsetting, no emotional when someone manages to ‘go home.’ It’s a brief glimpse of what’s after and it can be overwhelming at times. The children? It’s like comforting a child here, calm voice, reassurance and hope that someone turns p for them.
      Keeping well.
      Hugs
      Laurie.

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