Ammytiville Horror
Last night we watched Ammytiville Horror. Mummy, John, Selena, Erik, TT and myself.
It was my mom's idea to watch the film. And there's are reason why.
We watched an earlier version of the movie in 1992. (Which we felt was way frightening then this one). The movie was based on a true story - the murder of the DeFeos family. Ronnie DeFeos who was the elderst son had brutally murdered each of his family members, after being prompted by voices in his head. The murder took place 28 days after they moved into the Ammytiville home in 1974. The home was built in 1692 and was a missions home for the Indians. It eventually became a torture chamber where the indwellers were tortured in the most hideous of ways, burying their souls in the home. Spiritual anomalies followed as a result.
In 1988, mum, my brothers and I took a trip to Australia. The homefront was rocky, and we decided a break would do us all some good. I was nine. And a holiday during Christmas to Perth was something to look forward to.
While dad manned the home and our three dogs, he began to feel strange vibes. He heard bangings on the side door (which happened to be right in front a patch of ghastly-looking banana trees), he saw shadowy figures prancing in the house, and also heard our voices.
During our third week in Australia, dad joined us. We came home together by our fourth week.
My room at home had one bed and two mattresses. Mom and John slept on the first, while Quinton and I would fight for the second mattress. The last bed faced a mirror on the cupboard. And we dreaded sleeping on it.
This night, I got lucky.
At about five am, I had to use the toilet. We always kept the toilet light on just in case we got afraid of the dark (besides, we couldn't aim well then). I was wide awake after my 'download' and lay on my middle mattress. All of a sudden, I heard footsteps in boots walk from the hall into my room. No one in sight! I freaked.
The next morning, I re-enacted my whole account of the happening to mom. She dismissed it as "You're imagining, just because daddy imagined it ..." My mom has had encounters in the past. As a Christian in a 'spritually-bondaged' family, she's had to deal with demon-possessed family
members and the like. So, when she gave an audit on my account, I believed I was imagining.
That night, the same thing happened. This time, mom heard it. The footsteps went past our room door and no physical body was present. Mom freaked, and we all became very suspicious over the spiritual condition of our home.
During this time, John, who was only three, was in practise of the daily afternoon nap. He would sleep face up on our couch in the hall. Everytime the clock struck 6pm, he would wake up screaming as if he was soaked in intense fear. When he screams the rest of us would look at each other.
One night, Quinton saw an old man sitting in the corner of our room.
On Tuesday and Friday nights, dad would have conversations in his sleep with someone/something. He usually answered questions. This became such a routine that mom and I would record the slurred replies on tape. There was once he talked about driving towards a light or something. Dad was behaving a little withdrawn during this time. He had many late nights and was hardly home.
Our dogs were fine. However, the appliances at home were acting up. Almost at once, our room
light and severage system went bezerk. The lights would flicker in an odd sequence and the toilet bowl would fill up and flood the toilet upon flushing. And every morning, bees would hover around our toilet bulb, fall to the tiles and sting our feet. (Of course, we weren't stung everyday lah).
During this time, I saw my mum's faith in Jesus Christ soar. And what the bible says is true, that Christ's spirit in us is way stronger than the spirit outside of us. While my dad wasn't around at night, the four of us would stay close together. Several Christians had taught my mom how to sprinkle oil -- which we'd ask God to annoint-- around the house. Mom had taught Quinton, John and myself to believe in Jesus and his death on the cross - where Satan was defeated. When we were afraid, we would shout out loud "In Jesus' Name, I rebuke you and bind you in hell!!" to cripple the evil spirits lingering around us. It worked really well on the lights. When the lights flickered, we'd shout. And right at once, the light restored.
My faith grew.
We had called the church prayer team to conduct the Wednesday services at our home. Our pastor was very supportive as we walked through the diabolical four months.
My neighbour noticed that something strange was happening to our home. She lived right across our home. One day, she mooted the idea of visiting a bomoh. Bomoh's are Malaysian witchdoctors (Malaysia Boleh, semua pun boleh!).
My dad, convinced to locate the source of the problem, followed my neighbour. He was required to bring earth from our compound. At the bomoh's, they found a talisman buried in the sand of our garden. Yes, our garden's sand. And it was a Siamese charm -- which happened to be a powerful one. He was given two choices. To throw it away, or to take revenge. He opted the former.
Our ordeal didn't end with the visit to the Bomoh.
One night, for some reason, my mom slept on the bed facing the mirror. As she was about to tuck her self in, she noticed the shadow behind her on the curtain didn't follow suit. Moments later, she felt something strangle her. She rebuked it in Jesus' name. Again it strangled her. And again she rebuked it. This went on for some time. Then she got dad to lie next to her. And again, the spirit persisted. And then, the final rebuke.
All of a sudden, the room was filled with a burning smell. I woke at that time and asked what was going on. They asked if I could smell it. I think I said yes, but can't remember if I did. But I smelt it strongly after we moved out not too long after.
The next morning, we went to our pastor and he prayed for us. Mom felt a huge burden lifted. It had come to an end. Everything had come to and end. No more 6pm alarms by John. No more sleep talking by dad. No more footsteps and shadows in our hall. No more occurrences with the lights and flush. An immediate end.
We moved into our new house in October that year. Since then, we've never set foot into 3, Jalan 5/15C.
Oh, later we found out that my dad's ex-chick had something to do with it and it wasn't really the house...
It was my mom's idea to watch the film. And there's are reason why.
We watched an earlier version of the movie in 1992. (Which we felt was way frightening then this one). The movie was based on a true story - the murder of the DeFeos family. Ronnie DeFeos who was the elderst son had brutally murdered each of his family members, after being prompted by voices in his head. The murder took place 28 days after they moved into the Ammytiville home in 1974. The home was built in 1692 and was a missions home for the Indians. It eventually became a torture chamber where the indwellers were tortured in the most hideous of ways, burying their souls in the home. Spiritual anomalies followed as a result.
In 1988, mum, my brothers and I took a trip to Australia. The homefront was rocky, and we decided a break would do us all some good. I was nine. And a holiday during Christmas to Perth was something to look forward to.
While dad manned the home and our three dogs, he began to feel strange vibes. He heard bangings on the side door (which happened to be right in front a patch of ghastly-looking banana trees), he saw shadowy figures prancing in the house, and also heard our voices.
During our third week in Australia, dad joined us. We came home together by our fourth week.
My room at home had one bed and two mattresses. Mom and John slept on the first, while Quinton and I would fight for the second mattress. The last bed faced a mirror on the cupboard. And we dreaded sleeping on it.
This night, I got lucky.
At about five am, I had to use the toilet. We always kept the toilet light on just in case we got afraid of the dark (besides, we couldn't aim well then). I was wide awake after my 'download' and lay on my middle mattress. All of a sudden, I heard footsteps in boots walk from the hall into my room. No one in sight! I freaked.
The next morning, I re-enacted my whole account of the happening to mom. She dismissed it as "You're imagining, just because daddy imagined it ..." My mom has had encounters in the past. As a Christian in a 'spritually-bondaged' family, she's had to deal with demon-possessed family
members and the like. So, when she gave an audit on my account, I believed I was imagining.
That night, the same thing happened. This time, mom heard it. The footsteps went past our room door and no physical body was present. Mom freaked, and we all became very suspicious over the spiritual condition of our home.
During this time, John, who was only three, was in practise of the daily afternoon nap. He would sleep face up on our couch in the hall. Everytime the clock struck 6pm, he would wake up screaming as if he was soaked in intense fear. When he screams the rest of us would look at each other.
One night, Quinton saw an old man sitting in the corner of our room.
On Tuesday and Friday nights, dad would have conversations in his sleep with someone/something. He usually answered questions. This became such a routine that mom and I would record the slurred replies on tape. There was once he talked about driving towards a light or something. Dad was behaving a little withdrawn during this time. He had many late nights and was hardly home.
Our dogs were fine. However, the appliances at home were acting up. Almost at once, our room
light and severage system went bezerk. The lights would flicker in an odd sequence and the toilet bowl would fill up and flood the toilet upon flushing. And every morning, bees would hover around our toilet bulb, fall to the tiles and sting our feet. (Of course, we weren't stung everyday lah).
During this time, I saw my mum's faith in Jesus Christ soar. And what the bible says is true, that Christ's spirit in us is way stronger than the spirit outside of us. While my dad wasn't around at night, the four of us would stay close together. Several Christians had taught my mom how to sprinkle oil -- which we'd ask God to annoint-- around the house. Mom had taught Quinton, John and myself to believe in Jesus and his death on the cross - where Satan was defeated. When we were afraid, we would shout out loud "In Jesus' Name, I rebuke you and bind you in hell!!" to cripple the evil spirits lingering around us. It worked really well on the lights. When the lights flickered, we'd shout. And right at once, the light restored.
My faith grew.
We had called the church prayer team to conduct the Wednesday services at our home. Our pastor was very supportive as we walked through the diabolical four months.
My neighbour noticed that something strange was happening to our home. She lived right across our home. One day, she mooted the idea of visiting a bomoh. Bomoh's are Malaysian witchdoctors (Malaysia Boleh, semua pun boleh!).
My dad, convinced to locate the source of the problem, followed my neighbour. He was required to bring earth from our compound. At the bomoh's, they found a talisman buried in the sand of our garden. Yes, our garden's sand. And it was a Siamese charm -- which happened to be a powerful one. He was given two choices. To throw it away, or to take revenge. He opted the former.
Our ordeal didn't end with the visit to the Bomoh.
One night, for some reason, my mom slept on the bed facing the mirror. As she was about to tuck her self in, she noticed the shadow behind her on the curtain didn't follow suit. Moments later, she felt something strangle her. She rebuked it in Jesus' name. Again it strangled her. And again she rebuked it. This went on for some time. Then she got dad to lie next to her. And again, the spirit persisted. And then, the final rebuke.
All of a sudden, the room was filled with a burning smell. I woke at that time and asked what was going on. They asked if I could smell it. I think I said yes, but can't remember if I did. But I smelt it strongly after we moved out not too long after.
The next morning, we went to our pastor and he prayed for us. Mom felt a huge burden lifted. It had come to an end. Everything had come to and end. No more 6pm alarms by John. No more sleep talking by dad. No more footsteps and shadows in our hall. No more occurrences with the lights and flush. An immediate end.
We moved into our new house in October that year. Since then, we've never set foot into 3, Jalan 5/15C.
Oh, later we found out that my dad's ex-chick had something to do with it and it wasn't really the house...
Comments
The house wasn't haunted by spirits. Apparently, talismans and charms were used as markers for spirits to attack/cause distress.
Yeah, I was freaked at that age. However, I nowadays I'm not afraid of encounters or horror stories. Thanks to God!
Kev...
was this the hse in jln chantik??? next to my granpa's??? oh my,thats freaky..had no idea all that was going on in that hse...freaky!!! i remember i threw tantrum one nite when my bro was invited over for camp at ur place and i wasn't allowed to join..hahaha.with all that going on, surely would have been a nite to remember!!
kev..
memorise indeed.. too bad we didn't get to see some exorcism-action.. he he..
padawan..