The House, Part Two.

by Lori Dwyer on January 27, 2012 · 21 comments

Continued from yesterday. Come on in… this place is eerie.

Enter the house and it’s almost enough to jarr your brain. One room is newspapers, stacks and stacks of them piled neatly and orderly– or once, they were, before the weather and the rats and time itself took to them.

Weather, and rats, and time. There is no graffiti on the walls, no fires set, no coke cans and chip packets to give squatters away. It feels as if no one has breathed the air of this house in, quite literally, years.

The newspapers go back for years. I find one dated 1940.

In the front hall is a drift of unopened mail– five hundred letters, maybe more. I open one and the date is 1971 and I feel like an intruder for the first time, a thief of memories and a breaker of sealed tombs.

This house is unsettling, strange and quite crew and so fascinating. The light is fading, but that is not the source of my frustration– I wish my eyes were bigger, to take more in.

The kitchens still holds a refrigerator, a stove, pots and pans and cooking utensils on the walls. There are jars with labels still attached, and I want one to take home with me but the roof has fallen in across the entry to the kitchen, long splintered wooden boards creating a huge diagonal gate across the doorway.

Another room is art supplies. There are shelves all around the walls, stacked with canvases and paint and brushes and palettes and easels. The floor is knee deep in paper– journals and diaries and notebooks with nothing special in them I can see, just names and dates and the occasional phone number. There is paperwork here of all kinds– loan statements with tiny paper stubs filled in by hand when a payment was made, letters to and from various organizations, dockets and shopping lists. A calendar on the wall has been frozen still in the 1960′s. The only thing I don’t see is artwork.

*Ahem* Obviously, the yellow is added by me.

In fact, the only artwork in the house I miss entirely the first time I am there– is it too dark to see the room, once, I think, a living room, that he stands in.

It’s when I come back a second time I discover him, and then only by the flash of my camera, the day is so overcast. He stands in the lounge room, along with a piano that was literally terrifying when I tried it, the sound of untuned keys that hadn’t been touched in years echoing in this strange house.

This house– that standing statue man in particular– are all kinds of weird and, to be honest, so fucking strange.

Clothes seem out of date with utensils, which seem out of date with all that paperwork, which is out of date to the letters in the hallway. It’s as if some massive, silent clock has stopped ticking… But in different rooms, at different times.

Yesterdays orb, close up… quite possibly a raindrop. And not nearly as impressive as the last orb.

I went back only once, to take photos, and felt unsafe without my dog. In fact, I felt damn unwelcome… call me all the crazy you want, but that house has a very stale, very bad vibe.

And I know where I’m not wanted. I try not to tempt fate, when it’s already bitten me once.

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{ 21 comments… read them below or add one }

Mrs BC February 3, 2012 at 9:08 pm

Lori this is Freaky Deaky! I love it! That sculpture must have given you a fright, looming up in the camera flash. I think the reason everything is so undisturbed is because whatever is causing the bad vibe wants it undisturbed. Perhaps when he died, his only rellos lived so far away they didn't do anything, & then just sort of forgot?
Please find out more!


Katinka Smith January 30, 2012 at 10:24 pm

This has spiked my interest! I wonder if this was the artist's home? If so, perhaps his daughter can help?



Anonymous January 30, 2012 at 9:56 pm

Lori, I'm the same nationality as the name on the name on that page. Edgar Eduard Aavik is an estonian, who studied religion and legal studies. In 1944 he fled to Germany and in 1949 he came to Australia. As mentioned above, he was also an art teacher and a sculptor. Let me know if I can help in any other way!


SameliasMum January 30, 2012 at 1:28 pm

Super creepy!
You need to speak to the neighbours. Find out the goss… and then come back and tell us.

Waiting with bated breath.


Anonymous January 29, 2012 at 2:42 pm

I have just googled Edgar Aadvik.
Art Teacher, sculptor. b. 1913 – d.1998
Wonder if this is the same as the name on the poster?
Hmmmm . . . .
Mrs. C


Karen January 29, 2012 at 2:43 am

I pick up those kinds of vibes- presences- very easily (not able to understand what I pick up, just very sensitive to it) and in full honesty, I sped through reading House I and House II just because looking at the pictures is giving me a very heavy, thick, not exactly unsafe but more like despair kind of vibe. As soon as I saw your first posted photo of House I, I said, 'ooh that place is haunted!' and wondered if you would mention anything about it!


Anonymous January 28, 2012 at 5:54 pm

Lori, I echo everything Belinda said.
Who just leaves a house and possessions without a war chasing them?
Did they really not have ANYONE who knew them or their home?
This is just begging serious investigation – or maybe let sleeping ghosts lie?
(So glad you came out the other side of Tony's anniversary. I could hardly bear to read your pain.)
Mrs. C


Cassondra January 28, 2012 at 9:10 am

Oh, and P.S. I showed my mom your blog and she read this post about the house and said it sounds like my grandpa's house. He was in a nursing home for over 10 years, and wouldn't allow folks into his house cause he was afraid we'd mess it up (kill the rats).


Cassondra January 28, 2012 at 9:08 am

I just found out last night that my third cousin (I didn't know him, just hearing through the grape vine after getting the funeral announcement) committed suicide on Monday. His wife found him when she came home from work. I hope you don't mind if I point her to your blog. I think she would find comfort here and it would be good for her to know she's not alone.


Anonymous January 27, 2012 at 10:01 pm

I would love to have a look, will be in the next tiny train town next week, what say we pick up Emma and go explore…. Donna…..


Miss Pink January 27, 2012 at 10:01 pm

Do you think that if you had of returned with Violet that you would have felt less unwelcome?
Gosh, I am so damn curious about this house now. It's story. Why was it so frozen? What happened to the people living there?


A Daft Scots Lass January 27, 2012 at 8:31 pm

I love creepy but I wouldn't stay there if there was a bad vibe. I love the fact that the clutter lying around has an intriguing interest. I'd spend hours poking around…


Anonymous January 27, 2012 at 2:48 pm

Lori, You really really need to find out the story behind that house.It's a fucking miracle nobody has touched it.Loved the orbs as well.I love a good abandoned house. My dream is to buy one.I wonder if your house is able to be purchased.Belinda.


Shelley @ My Shoebox Life January 27, 2012 at 12:25 pm

Wow, that has my head in a real spin. Would love to hear the tales from locals about it.


Steph(anie) January 27, 2012 at 11:56 am

Holy shit.


Good Golly Miss Holly! January 27, 2012 at 9:41 pm

Wowsers. That shit made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up!


OurGangof7 January 27, 2012 at 9:40 am

I love this stuff. This is so fascinating. You just have to dig a little for us and try to find out what happened in that house lol. A house with so many signs of life but it seems to have been just walked out on and no one seems to have ever gone back to it, some one in that town must know the story that goes with it.
I'm intrigued can you tell lol


Elizabeth @ wobblywibby January 27, 2012 at 8:59 am

Fascinating. Makes you wonder what happened…
p.s. You would be great to do a ghost tour with :P


Sarah Mac January 27, 2012 at 8:55 am

This is gripping – I just can't get my head around the fact that nothings been touched!


Kelloggsville January 27, 2012 at 8:48 am

Very creepy (and incredibly well written, gripping) I wonder what why who….blimey.


Erin January 27, 2012 at 4:05 pm

Wow would love to know the story of it all And Shelley is right the locals would have some great stories ,it seems to me as if something bad happened there .


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