Probably everyone reading this has had the experience of walking into a place and getting “bad vibes.” Sometimes there is an obvious reason that can be found, like a violent crime that once took place there, but more often it’s a mystery.
My first experience of this kind of thing was so dramatic that it feels as if it just happened last week. When I was 16 or 17, a close friend of mine moved to a new house in a nearby town with her family. The move proved devastating for Linda, though her younger sister, her mother, and her mother’s husband never noticed anything unusual. Linda’s physical health took a nosedive, and she felt so stressed that she eventually dropped out of school. The properties of the house may not have been the cause of all that, but I think it’s extremely likely that the place played a major role. I remember that when I first visited Linda there, as I knocked on the door, I thought, “How can anyone live here?” It already felt so wrong to me.
Linda told me that there was an area upstairs that felt really terrible to be in, and she offered to show me what she meant. Intrigued, I followed her toward the staircase. Her Lhasa Apso, normally an ill-tempered and asocial beast, came with us that far, then stopped, acting nervous. The entire time we were upstairs, Louie stayed there at the bottom of the stairs, whining as if he felt concerned for us. I was told that he never, ever went up there.
I still have no idea what it was that we encountered. Most of the second floor was taken up by one large bedroom, inhabited by Linda’s mother and her husband. Linda asked me to walk around the room and see what I noticed about it. It wasn’t hard to notice something– at about the middle of the room, I felt as if I had walked into a wall, or perhaps more like a science-fiction force field. There was some resistance as I stepped through the barrier, and as I moved further toward the opposite wall, it got stronger and stronger, and I felt more and more pressured and uncomfortable.
The unpleasantness seemed to center around the window in that wall, as if the core of it hovered in mid-air just beyond it. I thought this was puzzling. If something nasty had happened in that building, it seemed unlikely that it had happened 15 feet or so off the ground and just outside the window. Not a spot for, say, a murder. (Tossing someone out at that height would have been a possibility, but an inefficient means of either murder or suicide.)
Perhaps there had been a building with a completely different configuration in that space in the past, and the disturbance had happened in a normal room rather than hanging outside the window. We had no way of finding out at the time. Our main speculation was that there was some sort of geomagnetic nexus that was not good for people to be near. I still have no better theory than that. Neither Linda nor I had any sense of a spirit or presence, just a feeling of bad energy. Which is not to say that there could not have been a sentient being of some kind, only that we did not perceive one.
Next, having been reunited with the relieved Louie, we explored the downstairs to see if there was a similar issue at that end of the house. The corresponding area was the bedroom belonging to Linda’s sister, Rosie. And it seemed absolutely fine. It felt sunny, in fact, unusually happy and comfortable, the exact opposite of the floor above.
But when we opened Rosie’s closet, it was as if darkness spewed out. I have absolutely no explanation for that.
As I said, Linda was increasingly affected by living in that house, but when she talked with her mother about it, she was not taken seriously, because her mother simply never perceived any disturbance or problem at all. Later, however, they took in a couple of boarders who most definitely did. Like Linda, they experienced visual and auditory hallucinations, and since they were living in the upstairs room, they got a more intense hit than she did. When they heard what sounded like someone walking on the roof above them in the middle of the night, they gave up and moved out. Linda sure didn’t blame them.
When I turned 18, I joined the Rosicrucians, and one of the first things I did was to write and ask someone in authority what they thought was going on in that house. I stupidly assumed that an older person, more experienced and much better trained in such matters, would understand it far better than I did. I received a rather lame reply, though, and became no wiser for it. Unfortunately, if I were asked today, I couldn’t say a whole lot more than that. I still don’t have a clue what was going on.
But I am sure that there was something going on. The dog’s opinion counts more than anything else for me.