Page 26 - The 'X' Chronicles Newspaper - April 2024

26 Our Haunted Apartment in Montreal

Our Haunted Apartment
in Montreal

Continued from Page 25

Summer gave way to fall. The trees on
our street changed to burning ochre and
deep reds, the park was blanketed in dead
leaves, and strange things kept happening
at our place.

Andrew and I were hanging out one night

playing guitar in the living room when
our little stereo—a 90s-era CD-tape
player combo, with a screen that showed
a cheesy light display when it started
up—suddenly switched itself on.

From having been completely shut off,
the machine came to life. The light show
danced and the five-disc CD changer
The room was pitch black – except for situation.
rotated noisily. Andrew and I looked at
the stereo, blasting rock music at full
each other, then stared at the stereo. After
volume, the light show dancing Back then, in our early 20s, Andrew,
a long moment the machine stopped
maniacally. My skin crawled as if I were Anna and I were leading wild lifestyles; I
whirring and clicking, and a song started
in a nest of writhing snakes. was a punk rocker, and they were night
to play. Ray Charles’ smooth voice
owls in the restaurant industry. A big
poured out of the speakers, but not from
I flicked on the light. In the kitchen, poster of the anarchy symbol on our
the beginning of a song; the music had
opposite the living room, every single fridge summed up the general vibe at our
queued up midway through a track. Over
one of the cabinets and drawers was place, which was being stoked harder,
a gentle arrangement, he sang:
yanked wide open: the large pantry, the perhaps, by the chaotic energy of the
storage above the stove, the double doors apartment itself. The strange, pimp-
I’ll take her back again, one more time…
under the sink, the cutlery drawers. cottage atmosphere seemed to encourage
Everything. darkness and debauchery.
Then, just as abruptly as it had started,
the music stopped. The dancing lights
Terrified, I moved through the apartment Not only did the stereo keep turning itself
were still. It felt like the machine was
madly switching off the stereo, slamming on—the same thing happened on two
smiling at us.
the cabinets and drawers shut, feeling other occasions, each time Ray Charles,
again as if something was laughing at me. each time playing the same line from the
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Andrew said.
As I raced to close everything, I glanced same song—all of us continued to suffer
Whatever was happening, it wasn’t
at the door to Andrew’s room, directly off bad dreams. We began to feel like we
funny. We packed up the guitars and
the kitchen. It was shut tight. I got hold of were in a vortex of dark energy, attracting
called it a night.
myself and went to bed. trouble and discord. Unfortunate events
unrelated to the haunting seemed to be
A few weeks later, I was walking home at
The next morning, I was sitting with a piling up: I lost my job at a dépanneur,
three in the morning. Buzzing but not
cup of tea when Andrew and Anna leaving me in dire financial straits, and
drunk as I walked up our quiet street, I
emerged from their room, blithely the girl I’d been seeing broke it off.
could hear music in the distance. When I
smiling and chatting.
reached our place and climbed the stairs,
Home alone one night, I heard a
I realized the loud rock n’ roll was
“Did you hear the music last night?” I thumping from outside. On edge, I
coming from our apartment.
demanded. quickly stepped to the front door and
swung it open. But it was no ghost: it was
What the …..? I thought. We hadn’t
“No, what music?” Andrew, balled up in a dusting of snow at
planned a party, and the music was
the bottom of the stairs. He’d been
cranked up far louder than any of us
“You didn’t hear it? At three in the mugged on his way home from work.
would play it at such an hour.
morning?”
I helped him up the stairs and when we
At the top of the stairs, I peered in our
They said they hadn’t. How could they got inside, I couldn’t believe his state:
living room window; I saw only black
have slept through that noise? face covered in blood, his cheeks and jaw
inside. The hairs on the back of my neck
swollen.
tingling, I unlocked the door and pushed
Whatever the cause, my friends could tell
it open.
I was deeply disturbed. We sat quietly (Continued on Page 27)
together, drinking tea, discussing our