When we first moved into this house back in the late 1980's, our two girls at that time were aged about 10 and 8. They each had their own bedroom, and all 3 of our bedrooms had large floor to ceiling built in wardrobes with mirrored, sliding door fronts. During the day, I was busy unpacking, and setting up this home, while the girls were at school, and John was at the office or on the road seeing clients.
I have mentioned that this house is built on levels and rather large--so there was a lot for me to do and to explore. Another area of the house is what I call the 'Pit'. I don't go there if I can help it. It is a room which is accessed through a small door in the lower family room area, which once opened leads down a large step to a large room which runs the extent and width of the main living area on the first floor of the house. It has a dirt covered floor, and at the time housed the compressor for the main air-conditioner for the house. There is a large fluorescent light attached to this room's celiling, and there is natural light streaming into the room during the day from the open wall access at the far end. However, this space has always made me feel uneasy, and I have never liked that space, and for the most part--I just avoided it.
All seemed well in the rest of the house except for one thing. At night when we were all in bed, in our middle level bedroom at the back of the house, Lauren in her room across the hallway from our room, and with Bronwyn asleep in her bedroom on the top loft level of the house, there would suddenly be noises. At about 2:00-2:30 am each morning, I would be awoken to the sound of all three mirrored wardrobe doors appearing to be opened at random times and then rattled and slammed shut. Occasionally I would sit up and try to watch what was happening, but everything would go quiet again. Sometimes, in fright, I would wake John up, who for some reason could always sleep through this noise! In the morning I would ask the girls if they heard anything during the night, and sometimes they agreed that they also had heard the loud banging.
Months passed, and this banging still occurred occasionally until one night when I had had enough! John was out of town seeing clients, and the girls were asleep in their beds. I woke with a start to hear all three wardrobe doors banging and slamming. I sat up, turned on my bedside lamp and jumped out of bed. I then turned on the ceiling light. By this time the house had gone quiet again. I yelled out: "This house is mine not yours. You are not welcome. Go away!" I then, shakily, with my heart beating rapidly went out into the dark hallway and turned on the light in the lower bathroom, and repeated this message. I went into Lauren's room, where she was fast asleep, turned on the light and repeated my message. I went into every room, nook and cranny in this house including the loathsome pit and repeated this message with all the lights on in the house by the end of my mission. I then went in reverse and turned each light out, saying to the intuder that : "You no longer live here - we do. Go away!"
Eventually I made it back to bed, and the house was very quiet, and I, after some time, fell into a peaceful sleep.
To this day those wardrobe doors have never banged again--occasionally there will be an attempt, during the daylight hours--I usually just look at the relevant offending door and say: "Give it up! Go home!" It all stops then.
This is our home now.
But this was only the beginning!