The Haunting on a Hill
Did ghostly souls live in my house? There was no doubt about it. There was only one thing I could do: Call on Archangel Michael to bless my house.
[Doreen Virtue's Intro: A professional angel therapist named Sophia Fairchild needed immediate and extreme help from Archangel Michael to clear away negative energies and earthbound entities from her home.]
Many years ago I bought a ramshackle house on a hill overlooking the ocean. It was badly run-down, but it was the only place I could afford at the time. I suspected something was very wrong with this house when in spite of its beautiful location and low price, nobody else showed any interest in buying it.
Looking back now, I see that it was glaringly obvious what the problem was. At the first and only open house, the few prospective buyers got no farther than the entry hall before the blood drained from their faces. Most of them bolted back to the safety of their cars and sped away. The real estate agent stood well off to the side, meekly pointing out the ocean views and apologizing for the fact that the house had stood empty for some time.
I, too, sensed the cold, clammy atmosphere emanating from the house, but I carefully ventured inside. I tried not to wince at the broken vintage plumbing, holes in graffitied walls, decades-old junk piled up to the rafters in the grim garage, and personal items abandoned in haste, strewn like confetti across the yard. Yet the lovely ocean view and glimpses of what must have once been a magnificent garden, now lying buried beneath weeds and trash, gave me some confidence that I could make a thing of beauty from this wreck of a house. And besides, this was all I could afford.
At the auction I was the only bidder, except for a man I suspected was a stooge, positioned there by someone to deliberately jack up the price. Fortunately, I called his bluff and was thrilled to secure the house for a sum even lower than I’d expected. It seemed like a miracle to own my own place at last! My son, however, was not so thrilled.
Shortly after we moved into the house, I began to hear strange stories from my nervous neighbors about the previous residents. An old woman who’d survived the Nazi death camps had lived alone there for many years before dying in my bedroom. A tormented soul, she took aimless bus rides crisscrossing the city every day, apparently to get away from someone or something that was always chasing her. It was sad to think that after all she’d been through, she was so frightened of her own home.
The house had then fallen into disrepair through years of neglectful tenants and an absentee landlord who’d bought the property merely for its land value. The last occupants had been a group of occultists who must have enjoyed the parade of ghosts that nightly streamed through that windswept house—until they left in a big hurry. Even my cats knew that this house was truly haunted, but I still managed to gloss over that detail.
|The Miracles of Archangel Michael|
By Doreen Virtue