When I was in my early twenties, I moved in with my father and my baby son into a huge house in Frankston, which was very cheap to rent.
I remember as soon as I stepped foot in there I felt strange, like something was trying to tell me that we were not welcome. My bedroom was as cold as ice, and it was the middle of summer. The very front bedroom I refused to go in, it felt as if someone was watching your every move in there.
My dad never went in there either.
All was well for the first two weeks of us living there. Then as usual I put my baby to bed, got my self a coffee and sat in the lounge room to watch television. As I was watching T.V, I heard my baby crying so I went to check on him, he was fast asleep, I went back to the lounge room and sat down again. Over to the left next to our fire place a black misty fog came out of nowhere and 'floated' past me and my father. We looked at each other and said "did you see that?" Then there was a sound like a groaning coming from the roof, my dad checked it out but nothing was there.
Incidents went on for months, the final straw was when I was away for the night, when I got home the day after my father had asked why hadn't I spoken to him last night. I told him I wasn't home, and he said "yes you were, you were in your bedroom, I came in and asked you to turn down your music, you looked as though you had a fight with someone and your room is a mess, all your clothes were pulled out of your draws. And when I asked you what was wrong, you didn't speak to me, just looked at me." Well that wasn't me. I wasn't home.
To cut it short I left that day and only went back two weeks later to get my clothes. The neighbours told me that no one ever stays in that house longer than 3 to 4 weeks. I lasted 3 months my dad lasted 6 months. I suppose it didn't help that we were directly opposite the cemetery. My father does not live that far from there, and when I visit him I have to drive past that house, still I get a very weird feeling and I notice no one still stays there for very long.