Irish Coffee: A Modern Day Ghost Story.

It is said that some people are sensitive. I am one of those people and this is my story.

Fifteen years ago during the summer, my family and myself moved into a new home. The house had stood empty for some time and the garden was overgrown. We set about decorating while enjoying the sunsets and sea views. We passed off the cold chill on the stairs and landing as a draft. And thought no more of it. That was until the winter arrived!

We were all tucked up in bed one night, when we heard a thrashing against the front door. Startled at how loud it was, we went to investigate. It sounded like a branch slamming into the door to the sound of the wind. This defied belief as there was no tree there. The noise was intense, so we opened the living room window, which was next to the front door. There was nobody or nothing to be seen. The night was calm and still. There was not a breath of wind. But the thrashing continued. I have to say this terrified both me & my husband. It continued for some time before coming to an abrupt stop.

Life returned to normal the next day, and preparing for Christmas came to the fore. We bought a wicker snowman with lights on for the front garden, which the children loved. Unfortunately it was stolen and so we decided to buy some CCTV. I personally tacked the cable across the landing up stairs, close to the ceiling. The cable had to run to the TV in our bedroom. The cable was tacked securely every half foot along. Well out of the reach of pets and children. Then one night while my husband was a work, I woke to and awful squealing of our family dog who had been sleeping on the landing. I jumped out of bed and ran towards him. To my astonishment the cable had ripped from the wall, near the ceiling and had become a lasso in mid air, and was whipping the dog. How it had been ripped down to this day, can not be explained. I was shaken by this event, as it happened inside of the house.

On another occasion my teenage daughter woke me screaming. She said there was a man on her ceiling. It took me a long while to settle her that night, telling her it must have been a dream. But she was certain it wasn't. I was annoyed as whatever it was, as it was now affecting the children. I sprinkled holy water around the house and threatened it with an exorcist. And to my astonishment to TV went bang and then went off. We had to go and buy a new one.

The years rolled on. Then once day I invited a friend around for Irish coffees. Chatting away in the kitchen I mentioned the incidents of when we had first moved in up until Christmas. She was flabbergasted that I didn't know the history of the house. She went on to say that two brothers had lived there. And one Christmas after returning from the pub, one had stabbed the other on the stairs. The victim had died. This story made me feel sad. But at least there was now and explanation for the incidents and the chill on the stairs.

There were no more incidents and we lived there for a total of six years.