Best evidence so far

Four years into investigating and I've seen something which I cannot explain away as anything except spirit energy. 

Last night PPS were at the Old School Rooms in Haworth where the famous Bronte sisters used to teach. We tried table tipping with my small YES NO table and instantly it took of jumping around like a puppy. It slid and twisted with barely any contact from us. In fact the table ended up with my colleague Si only on, with one hand and even then the table was firing away from him and he had managed to keep one set on fingers on. This wasn't the best evidence in question but it did lead us to remove my table and put our fingers on a large and terribly heavy, dark brown, circular table. Within ten seconds the thing slid across the floor and then rotated. I asked if it could tip this heavy table and within seconds it was stood on two long legs. It slammed down and spun around easily. As we flappe around trying to grab a nightvision CCTV camera, I used my non night vision camcorder and a few torches. I managed to catch some of the tipping which illustrates how we were not lifting the table from underneath, by hand or foot. 

When the activity was out of breath so to speak, I asked the team for us to purposefully try and do the same movement to see if we were fooling ourselves. Normally we would report that my small table requires us to work as a team with our movements but this time we could find no way to tip the table from the top even as we put all our strength on the surface. This showed that we simply couldn't even fake it. I was blown away and it left me having to work through what I'd witnessed. I now had that cast iron experience which I could relate back to if things became muddy later on with my beliefs. Ok, it's not seeing an apparition or whatever but it was the best thing yet. 

The spirit tried to tell us to GO AWAY. 

I'm still processing the night. It was awesome.   

Funeral parlour, Hull

Witham Funeral Parlour. HULL 

The place itself is entered through a pharmacy and into a courtyard. It's not a huge place in and of itself but there are stables upstairs which are accessed via a winding ramp. Our investigation was during an event with GCUK and it was busy due to the stars of Most Haunted being there. The activity which I was alerted to included a door which rattled even when bolted. The gaps in the door slats allowed for the people there to see nobody was stood on the other side. Drafts were felt in a long room which had windows in but I checked for air leakage and found none. It was a quiet night but a mini adventure all the same. 

Nashville Street 4: conclusion.

Living in Nashville Street had become like living in a black cloud but I put that down to myself in the main. It was just an added oddity that weird stuff seems to be happening. The next occurrence which had me unnerved was at 2am or so. Naturally, I was asleep at first. Then I heard voices conversational voices coming from nearby. I propped myself up in bed with my eyes still shut and tried to distinguish whether I was hearing burglars chatting outside or God forbid, somebody downstairs. It WAS coming from downstairs though. I grabbed a wooden cut off piece of curtain pole which I had stashed for such occasions. I crept downstairs, stepping my bare feet on the very sides of the steps to make them screech less. I entered the front room slightly less 'ready' as I had determined that it was just the TV. So the TV was on... that was ok? But why? There was no timer activated as far as I knew. It wasn't a rounded 2:00 exactly if that mattered. It was maybe 2:07. Anyway, all I could do was switch it off and go to bed. I didn't enjoy the walk to bed though. 

I think it was the same week when at some ungodly hour I woke with a start to the TV at full blast around 3:30am it was scary to be woken so suddenly and have to rush downstairs quickly before I woke the neighbours. I didn't even go for my stick this time. My heart raced. The TV controller was in the centre of my floor again. Was I going mad? On the surface I tried desperately to think of a non ghost explanation since it was still night. In the cold light of day though it was what I had to think. 

I sat in my cellar cinema at tea time one afternoon on a Sunday and the cellar door swung open for the umpteenth time. I turned everything off and went upstairs ignoring it. As I left the cellar I gave the door an almighty tug closed so that the wood smacked solidly into the frame. I used my coping mechanism of speaking out as I climbed the stairs into the kitchen. "Ha, try open that then" I said cockily. I switched on the kettle and opened the fridge door which was right at the top of the cellar steps and I heard a slight noise down in the darkness of the last few steps. A little noise quickly became the obvious noise of the door being pulled and pulled on until....yes...it bloody stopped squealing and swung open fully. I managed to push the fridge door shut before I ran into the front room, up the stairs and up the stairs again to the attic. I wanted to be far away as quickly as possible. This was just way beyond coincidental and not to mention impossible without a physical strength the same as mine. I stood in the attic thinking "now what?". I took deep breaths waiting for some footsteps or something to make my fear rise further. 

My skin turned to goose flesh in anticipation. I'm getting chills remembering it. 

I was up there maybe five minutes before I had to come down and see if anything else had happened. I got to the bottom of the stairs to the front room and grabbed my keys hanging in the door and set off to my girlfriends.

I told my tale when I got there and I could see her thinking it probably didn't happen exactly as I said it did. 

My girlfriend said she believed ghosts may be real in the very rarest of circumstances but that all these TV shows etc were totally bullshit. It was all made up for the ratings according to her. She even viewed me as an idiot for being taken in by it. I watched them all you see and refused to watch them in front of her because she'd ruin my pleasure by ripping on them as I watched. 

It wasn't too bad to return to my house a day or two later because time had passed. It was like after having a row and after two days you just feel different. I walked into my empty house and it was just as I'd left it. No animals flying around or dog excrement smeared on the walls saying GET OUT!!! 

The weekends that followed had me on edge and my girlfriend would say 'I have to say it is cold upstairs but I think that's just normal'. 

One Saturday or Sunday morning I awoke next to her and she said 'I've got to tell you something funny actually, well it wasn't funny last night actually'. She told me how she'd got out of bed to use the toilet during the night and as she walked past the stairs to the loo she had noticed, in her peripheral vision, that the window in the front door at the bottom of the stairs was dragging her attention as if movement or something was happening. 

She looked down saw a shadowy black mass half way up the stairs but since it was two three steps from bedroom into bathroom she could only replay the image in her head whilst on the loo. She sat there with this image in her head and tells me she though 'right, there's no way I'm saying I've seen a ghost'. It must be his uneven walls on either side of the stairs which created a shadowy spot. She returned bed ways and stopped for a good stare down the stairs saw no black mass and try as she might could see nothing but a clearly shining square in the door with no sign of heat she had only just looked directly at. She told me it was at this point that she felt fear. She doubted herself. The more she retold her story she added that she would go so far as to say there was a female's shape to it if she had to choose. 

I said "so you believe me now?" Somehow she um'd and ah'd her way around it, programming her rational head around it. She felt uneasy at night even then which showed her belief had grown some. But so too had denial. 

Her belief was to grow even further as work was started as I got ready to sell up and move in with her and the kids. 

My mate was a joiner and he worked  on a few wood related jobs etc. I had left a key for him  and one day got a message from my mate telling me that he had exited quick sharp when he  looked up and seen an old lady on the stairs looking at him. I thought he as winding me up at first. He'd not picked up his tools or coat during his quick exit. 

I heard the other friends say that he had told the exact same experience to them after. He went back with his dad the following day and got all his things. Even years later when conversations got anywhere near the supernatural and he would pipe up "oh god that reminds me of the time I saw that old women at Chris's, I'll never forget it." His version never wavers and you can see fear is still resident. My girlfriend and him would share stories and both say 'there was definitely something odd about that house'. 

As I was selling up, it became so that I was only in that house on a Sunday afternoon when viewers were down to look around and I was to clean up for the viewing. I distinctly recall sitting in this dead aired house which I was rarely at,  feeling  welcome, in every bone in my body. I felt eyes on me and had a headache with the oppressive feeling that I felt. I would exit as quickly as possible and arrive visibly shaking at my girlfriends home still ridding the feeling of unwelcome vibes from my shoulders. I hated that house and it hated me. Although I left the house as my accommodation, the house is still inside me a little. 

To this day I still have nightmares about it. I'd say maybe once every few months I dream I'm inside it. 

(My eyes are watery with fear as I write this and my plastic water bottle just pinged back to shape making my heart race- it still has its hooks in me). As I was saying, I often forget where I live I dreams. I never seem to dream about where I'm currently living. I've lived in 6-8 houses in my life and 2 of them still hold a part of my soul hostage whereas the rest have nothing on me at all. On those odd occasions I am stood upstairs in my dream or in the front room, looking around at a foreboding space of nothing in the room. Sometimes I'm stood in the bedroom and I run out of the room and literally make one big jump off the top step towards the door at the bottom to try and outfly the thing clutching for my heels. Thankfully I wake up with a start here and feel the clammy grasp of a cold sweat. 

It was 2011 when I started a team of my own finally which I'm due to get to soon, and I wrote a note to post through the door of Nashville Street. I left my details and just wrote something like, 

I used to live here, if you've witnessed anything paranormal or just odd, then please contact me here.....

I wouldn't even poke my fingertips over the door threshold. 

I never heard anything back. 

I will die being afraid of that house. Just an odd looking house in a normal street which you'd walk past and not think a thing.