An old Victorian house owned by a friend of my grandmother in Toronto's Portugal Village. Last time I was there was in 1974-75 for her daughter's wedding. A few years after her wedding, she developed breast cancer and passed away at 23. I remember going to the funeral and looking t her body in the casket. Her father died a few years later due to depression and the old lady lived alone after that.
1993 - I decided to move to Toronto and was looking for a place to stay. My mother called the old lady and asked if she had a room for rent. She said she had 4 rooms and was alone so I had a choice of rooms.
I came a few weeks later and chose the attic room on the 4th floor. This had it's own kitchen and was SO nice, except is hadn't been re-done since the mid 1950's, which was cool.
I lived there for a year, not being bothered by any ghosts. After a year, the old lady told me she was going to the hospital for a short stay and told me she would be back in a week.
One week later, I was just getting up and I heard my name being called from the bottom of the stairs. This sounded like the old lady, so I went down to help her as I thought she was home from the hospital. I went down and looked everywhere for her but she wasn't there. I then went back to my room and my phone rang. I answered it and it was the hospital telling me to call the old lady's son. No reason was given. I then called my mother to get the number but she told me she had already got the news about the old lady's death from him, but I never knew. This was 5 hrs AFTER she died that I heard her voice!
A week passed after her funeral. The trustee told me since I was the only one in the house, that I can live here free if I watched over it while the house was being put on the market.
I then called my brother to come stay awhile. He can have a room and chill out. He came, dressed like Poison/Motley Crew, as he was a metal-head. He also brought with him his ghetto blaster and tapes. This was working fine in the car but when he went to the daughter's room, the player would nut run. We checked the outlet and batteries. All were fine. Again we plugged the player in another outlet in another room and all was fine. We then plugged it in again in the same room but it would not play, even though a light was plugged in the same outlet and was on!
This freaked him out and he didn't want to stay after I told him whose room it was and thought she was unhappy for the music he was playing. He left.
A week later my sister came with a friend and chose the same room. They were both in the corner unpacking. I was in my room. I heard a loud bang and screaming. I ran down and saw both girls in the corner crying and holding each other. I asked what happened and they told me one of the 2 doors slammed shut. I looked at the door and it was closed, buckled and had a crack running down the middle. This door was painted white with old-style oil paint as well as the hinges. No one could closed the door fully with a single push . The doors were also heavy. I told the girls, maybe the old lay's daughter didn't want anyone in her room. They decided to leave. I lived alone there for a few more months with no problems.
A few weeks after, a lady came over. She told me she was a friend of the old lady and that there was $$$ hidden in her room in "a small box" and told me to look for it. We would split the $$$ between us. I looked and didn't find anything. Turns out there was $3000 in cash in her underwear drawer!!! The lawyer found it while emptying the dresser! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
No comments:
Post a Comment