Divine Intervention: Part 4
The Reckoning. The Storm was about to unleash its fury.
On this New Moon in Cancer tonight, I offer you the latest installment of Divine Intervention - Part 4. It was to be the finale - but I thought I’d save the hanger till last. What better way to tell a ghost story, than on the dark side of the moon - where unseen visitors linger in the shadows, where only the light of day will comfort your fear. As a Cancerian, I have made my New Moon wishes tonight. And on my birthday, I couldn’t ask for a better time to connect with the Universe, the moon and my friends. I hope whatever you wish for tonight, your dreams will come true. One thing we can be sure of tonight - tomorrow, the light will break through the darkness that envelops us tonight. But where do our celestial friends hide when the sun shows its face? You may soon find out. Enjoy.
Friday evening saw the day set on a busy week and I was looking forward to spending time with my grandmother. ‘Mum’ as I called her. She was the only mum I had known growing up, because of my own mother’s swift and unexpected departure from my life at five months from a brain aneurysm. So my grandmother was a very special part of my life. My grandfather had passed some years before, and my father and brother had moved out, so she found herself in an empty nest more than once in her life. Though there was always someone dropping in to check on her, looking back, I realize that nights were lonely for her without us all around. But if I wasn’t physically with her, I would ring her every day, at least once and maybe twice. Sometimes watching a TV show simultaneously as we spoke, so we didn’t feel that far apart.
To me, she was home. So time with her was just returning to my heart.
Friday night I would pick up some take-away to save her cooking. We’d have dinner in the loungeroom while watching TV. It gave us time to catch up on the week’s events. Watch silly game shows or the Friday night movie and just enjoy being with each other. Safe, warm, together.
I’m glad I was with her this particular Friday night, as a storm was brewing outside and we could see thunder and lightning churning in the distance. If it got nasty, at least we could hide under the bed together.
We always knew when a storm was coming, as the neighbor’s dogs began howling in a riotous frenzy prior to its arrival. So by their unrelenting, almost frantic lamentation, Mum and I were getting ready to batten down the hatches.
I thought about ringing Summer to check that she was ok. But I didn’t want her to think I was keeping tabs on her for other reasons. So, I decided to leave her in peace. But with the oncoming storm, I don’t think peace was something she would be enjoying as the night rolled on.
The storm did indeed hit with ferocity. Heavy rain that seemed to defy gravity, going every which way but down. The thunder was loud and rumbling. Mum and I amusingly counting the seconds from the lightning strike to the roar of the thunder, to see how far away the storm actually was. One kilometer, two kilometers, three …. If it was less than a few seconds, it was time to skedaddle under the blanket.
Mum and I went to bed around nine p.m. We were both tired and needed some shut eye. The rain fell most of the night, easing towards the early hours.
But around five a.m. the phone rang unexpectedly. The sun was quietly creeping its way towards the dawn. A red silhouette now bathed the horizon. A welcomed contrast to the raging storm that chaperoned the night.
It startled both mum and I, as usually when you get a call at that time of the morning, it heralds bad news.
I jumped up quickly and told Mum I would answer it. She was awake, anxious to know who would be ringing at this time of the morning.
Remember, this was the ‘80’s - no mobile phones. They weren’t even a notion in anyone’s brain back then. Only something you laughed at on The Jetson’s cartoon or Lost In Space. It was never going to happen.
Welcome to the 21st Century.
I quickly picked up the phone, only to hear screaming, loud noises and Summer in complete panic mode. She was frantic, howling into the phone for help. Her voice was shaking.
I tried to calm her down and kept asking her what was wrong; where was she and what was happening?
Being that petrified she was rambling and didn’t make any sense.
She was babbling words of bangs and thuds; doors opening and slamming on their own; things being thrown and smashing to the floor; I couldn’t make any sense of what was happening.
Then I heard a male voice in the background, equally panicked and terrified. I could only presume it was Greg.
I managed to calm Summer down enough to tell me what was happening and did she need the police?
Mum was now becoming concerned as she could hear Summer screaming through the phone.
Finally, I managed to decipher that Summer was at the unit - with Greg. Both distraught and beyond pacifying.
In short, they had encountered the wrath of Catherine’s fury. What had unfolded, was in retaliation to the very thing that Catherine had warned Summer not to do.
The storm had hit and apparently, so too the day of reckoning. Summer was now faced with some unpleasant truths. How uncanny that in Summer’s trail of untruths to me, her betrayal, disdain and disregard, that she was the one now facing the sliding door of her own actions.
Karma works in mysterious ways. But it helps when you have a guardian angel on your side. It wouldn’t be till much later that I would come to realize that Catherine’s intervention, was not only for her retribution, but for mine as well.
A few years earlier I had also been held hostage in my own home. Attacked and in fear of my life for over two days. No one came to my aid then. No one was held accountable for the torture and pain they inflicted. No one cared how the aftermath would affect me. I lost faith in those I trusted and loved the most. For it was just forgotten, without any law enforcement, medical or emotional intervention. I was left to deal with it totally on my own, pretending to live a normal life in a limbo I’ve still yet to find an open door for.
And so, Catherine appeared in my life, similarly with a score to settle, and so her revenge, also became mine. Though revenge is not a word I keep in my vocabulary, it would be many years later that I would realize the parallels of our encounters. And the reason I was drawn to this place by the ocean, the reason Catherine made herself known to me, knowing our stories long before I knew her, was a divine connection between her path and mine, and a spiritual intervention to make what was wrong, right.
So on this dark, rainy morning, as I attempted to gain some clarity on Summer’s frenzied phone call, it appears that during the course of the night, in the midst of the storm picking up momentum, Summer and Greg decided to go to bed. Perhaps she was scared of being in the unit alone with the storm approaching. Understandable.
Though she would soon have more than a storm to worry about.
Screaming through the phone, she kept repeating, “It won’t stop! We can’t make it stop. We’ve been locked in this room for hours. We can’t make it stop! We can’t get out! Please, please ….”.
It all began when she said they were hearing strange noises in the unit. They heard someone walking around and stopping at her bedroom door. Fearful that someone was in the unit, knowing that it wasn’t me, Greg apprehensively got up to open the door to look around. As he slowly turned the squeaky brass handle, slightly opening the door to peek outside, the door was violently thrust out of his hand and flung open, slamming hard against the wall inside the bedroom.
Both Greg and Summer screamed in terror.
“Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned”.
Instantly a raging wind swirled through the unit.
No introduction required - Catherine had arrived.
Doors began opening and slamming in unrelenting anger. The door to the bedroom, doors on her wardrobe - bash, thump, crash, thump, smash - over and over till they nearly flew off the hinges. The drawers in her dressing table were being pulled in and out incessantly, as the items of clothing therein came flying out with the force.
As Summer and Greg tried to leave the room, the door slammed in their face. Trapping them inside the bedroom. Pulling on the door handle to try and break free, they couldn’t open the door. With all the strength within them, it would not budge. It was being held closed by an invisible force and even together, they didn’t have the power to open it.
As they turned to run onto the balcony attached to the bedroom, to attempt another escape, the sheets began rising and flying off the bed, catching in the overhead fan as it rotated backwards in an unnatural motion, just as the bed pivoted on its own axis, obstructing the door to the verandah. Forcing them back into the bedroom like a paranormal washing machine gone berserk.
She said they attempted to hide under the bed, but there was nowhere they could hide. The heaviness and oppression of Catherine’s spirit permeated the very walls of the unit. There was no escaping.
Their screams were harrowing, their emotions, desperate.
I questioned how did no one else in the unit block hear this relentless noise and screaming? I wondered why no one came to their aid, if their reporting of the experience was accurate. Perhaps Catherine had special power to silence the noise outside of the unit. Only within was the fear factor a reality. Perhaps there was a shot of karma why no one would come to their aid - just like nobody came to mine, or to Catherine’s.
They’re fear became impalpable torture. They didn’t know what to do, how to get out or who or what was tormenting them with such malevolence. Summer was in a state of fear that had now brought her to tears, and Greg left shaking in the aftermath.
I asked her how she managed to get to the phone, which was on the wall outside my bedroom, if they had been locked in her room for so long?
She stated that as the sun began to rise, the horror inexplicably, stopped. Everything went dead silent and the door of the bedroom just opened slowly of its own accord, whereby they both frantically ran out of the room. Summer’s her first instinct was to call me.
I’m not sure what she thought I could do, staying with my grandmother. The only ‘advice’ I could offer was to calm down, pack a bag and go to her mother’s to stay for a couple of days. I also reminded her of Catherine’s message, without trying to be spiteful, and that now she might believe me when I offer advice from spirit. I think her beliefs had been well and truly tested this night, and that perhaps would make her think twice about how her life proceeded from this moment on.
She said that there was no way she would be staying there another night, and that her and Greg were going back to her mother’s. She just wanted to get out of there ASAP and that this was something she would never forget.
Greg was in the background urging her to hurry up as if anticipating another moment of terror that he didn’t want to be part of. So, I told her I would be returning to the unit on Sunday morning, and she could ring me then if she wanted to. I told her to try and relax, get some rest and everything would be o.k. I asked her to make sure that the unit was locked and safe before they left. I didn’t want to go back to find my furniture also walking out the door on their own - but not by Catherine’s hands.
She couldn’t hang up the phone quick enough. I don’t blame her. It’s not something anyone would want to go through. Its horrifying enough when a human terrorizes another human being, for whatever reason, let alone an entity you can’t even see. I can’t imagine the terror and fear they endured whilst in Catherine’s company.
I arrived home Sunday morning. Thankful for a bright, sunny, beachy morning. Surfers and swimmers enjoying the beach on an almost perfect day. Not an image you associate with the paranormal. I wasn’t sure what I was going to walk into. So I was a little apprehensive about walking in the front door. And would Catherine blame me for Summer’s neglect of her wishes. All I could do was take a deep breath, walk up the dimly lit staircase to my front door, and pray that the atmosphere and the thermosphere were once again in unison.
I put the key in the door, slowly turned it clockwise, and nervously pushed the door ajar, wondering what catastrophe was about to greet me on the other side.
I opened the door to find the sun streaming in the loungeroom window, which instantly made me feel I was back in reality and everything was normal.
There was a mess of coffee cups and food boxes in the kitchen and on the coffee table left askew, which wasn’t an unusual display for Summer. I moved towards my room to find my bedroom door closed. Great, I thought, she took heed and didn’t attempt to go through my things. I opened my bedroom door to find everything as I left it. Relief came over me, hoping that Summer may have finally listened. Or perhaps Catherine may have had a hand in preventing Summer’s access to my room. Just a passing thought.
As I put down my bag and my keys on my dressing table, I noticed a white feather sitting on the left corner. I thought this was curious. How did a white feather manage to settle inside the unit, when all the seagulls and cockatoos, were outside enjoying themselves on the beach?
Perhaps Catherine left a calling card.
I proceeded to check in Summer’s room to see if there was any evidence of her ordeal. I was hesitant, but needed to see for myself if I had the courage to stay here on my own. Even though Catherine was on my side, after hearing Summer’s fear, it wasn’t something I wanted to experience alone.
As I approached her bedroom door, there were clothes and items strewn around. I just kept telling myself that this was just Summer being her careless self. But as I reached the doorway, I was gob smacked to see the ‘damage’.
The bed indeed was moved halfway around the room; sheets pulled off and hanging unruly over the verandah door. The drawers on her dressing table were somewhat ransacked; again, quietly telling myself this was Summer’s attempt to get out quickly.
But what I couldn’t explain away, was the pictures hanging backwards on the wall. I’m pretty sure Summer didn’t hang them that way. They weren’t off the wall, they were just turned backwards and off centre. And I’m not quite sure why the pillows were on top of the wardrobe. The basket that held all her accessories, including my scarves, was thrown to the other side of the room and its contents now taking residence on the veranda table, among other related items that weren’t compatible with an outdoor deck chair.
I didn’t want to see any more, so I quickly retreated her room and closed the door behind me. I was trying to convince myself that everything was now ok. But how was I going continue living here alone, knowing what has transpired and could it happen again, while I’m here!
I was still upset that Summer allowed Greg to stay the night. Who would believe such a story, right? I can see both sides. I’ve witnessed too much in my life not to believe. I understand she was a young girl with stars in her eyes, not lightning bolts in her bed. So I couldn’t chastise her for not being a believer. Catherine took care of that. And I certainly didn’t want any harm to come to her or Greg.
As I attempted to clean up the mess in the kitchen, the phone rang. It was Summer. Still very upset about what transpired. Still terrified to come back right away. No doubt this would leave her haunted for all time. I get it. I told her to have a few days with her mum and then come back and we would talk about it. And the only reason this happened, was because of Greg staying over. She still disbelieved that this was the reason for what happened, and that Greg was a nice bloke. I agreed, he was a nice guy. But he was male.
Then as we continued to talk, I my attention was drawn to my picture of the dolphins hanging over the mantlepiece. It began to move. Ever so slightly at first, but then, as I continued talking to Summer, while focusing on the picture, it began swaying back and forth above the mantle.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Was Catherine still upset with Summer, knowing she was on the other end of the phone and was becoming agitated again?
As the picture became more mobile, I let out a gasp of distress. Summer asked me what was wrong. I told her that the picture above the mantlepiece in the loungeroom was swaying back and forth before me, and getting faster. I’m nowhere near it, I’m on the phone outside my room, and the picture is moving back and forth on its own.
Summer yelled, “Get out of there!”.
I continued to stay on the phone, because at least I had a human speaking to me at the other end. I told Summer to be quiet for a moment and just stay on the phone. I yelled out,
“Catherine is that you, what’s wrong? Stop!”
With that, the picture literally came off the wall, hung in mid air for about ten seconds, as if someone was invisibly holding it up, and then plummeted and smashed to the ground.
Naturally, I screamed. Summer yelling on the other end, asking what was that loud bang. What happened? What’s going one? Are you ok?
I told her what happened and that my picture was now lying flat on the floor in front of the fireplace. I told her to get off the phone and I would ring her back, that I was OK, but needed to get off the phone.
We both hung up.
The sun was still shining through the loungeroom window, so I was convincing myself that everything was ok and that the picture’s hanging rope probably just frayed and snapped. Though it doesn’t explain the gymnastics it displayed on its way to the floor.
I gingerly walked over to the picture. It landed picture side up. As I turned it over, the string and latches were still in place. The rope wasn’t frayed or broken, nor had it come away from the latches. I thought may the screw in the wall had come out, being old it probably gave way. I checked.
It was still insitu in the wall.
Then I also realized, that with the violent manner in which the picture fell to the floor, the glass in the frame should have shattered. It came down with such a thud and sounded like glass breaking. But instead, it was still in one piece.
So, I had to relent and thank Catherine for not smashing my picture, but could she please stop being so angry and breaking things. She knew I was talking to Summer on the phone, and so made her presence known, by getting my attention and levitating the one thing I was focusing on at the time. But at least she had the decency not to break it.
So I still felt a sense of respect between us. It was Summer she was angry with. Not me.
I picked up my picture and laid it against the fireplace. Not willing to hang it, just yet.
Although the atmosphere calmed down, my senses still told me that Catherine was still present. My body was tingling and my heart beating a little louder than normal, though I put that down to the unexpected house refurbishment, rather than the silence of Catherine’s present.
So I retreated to the lounge to get my breath, and plan my next move.
That’s when another electric shock hit me in the face - literally; sent my blood boiling and rushing to my room to for refuge and a dry set of clothes.
This cannot be happening!
🪶Thank you for being here. Please join me for the Final Part 5 of ‘Divine Intervention’. You thought this was the end? The Finale? The final twist will have you questioning everything - about life, the after life, humans and why revolving scenarios continue to disconnect one’s soul from the reality of being ‘human’. God certainly made a mistake the day he delivered me to earth - wrong place, wrong time, wrong planet. One day I’ll find out why.🪶🕸️
Thank you for this...I am hanging onto the cliff also! New moon 🌚 wishes and happy birthday blessings 💫. Much love and magic to you, Dani 🪶✨️🌞
Ohhhhhhhhhh there is more?????? You have me hanging off the edge of a cliff waiting..dangling ..... you are the best..this felt so cathartic!