24 December 2012
The Rafferty's moved into number 63 Orchard Lane on December 2nd, 2008. A Victorian property, surrounded by mature trees and shrubs. The drive curved around the front of the gorgeous property. They knew little of the area as George Rafferty had been relocated and promoted very quickly. They looked for properties close by his new job and saw the house on the internet. They put in an offer straight away and an hour later received the news that they were now the new owners of number 63.
They settled in quickly with their children, two daughters aged 3 and 18 months. They were excited about christmas in their new home. That's when things began to happen. Small things such as photographs being placed face down, hanging pictures being turned around. On their first Christmas Eve, Sofia Rafferty put out some milk, a carrot and a cookie for Santa and his reindeer, before retiring to bed. Just as she is about to get into bed, she hears a crash and a thud. Getting up quickly, both George and Sofia run downstairs. They are shocked to see the plate with the treats for Santa have been smashed, the cookie and carrot is in tiny bits, the glass of milk is everywhere over the floor, as are the shards of glass. The confusion and shock is quickly dispelled once they set about tidying up the mess. As Sofia is wiping the floor, she notices the stockings on the fireplace, have all been ripped and the contents thrown into the fire. An unease makes her shudder. All night the noises got louder and louder, and all of the Rafferty's barely slept. Their first christmas was not how they planned it to be.
The following Christmas Eve, strange things began to happen again. Toys strewn everywhere after the children had gone to bed. The christmas tree was pushed over, the christmas decorations pulled down. The memories of the previous year flooded back for George and Sofia. A feeling of dread descended upon them. They went to bed and the noises began. They could hear a child sobbing and kept checking their sleeping children. As soon as they were relieved to see their children were safely still sleeping. They would hear a child's wicked laugh. They were afraid and each of them carried their sleeping children to their bed. Their second christmas was ruined once again.
The year passed, and once again they were busy preparing for their third christmas at number 63. All the usual things began to happen on Christmas Eve, mess being made, the bins being up tipped, taps being left on, the cupboards being emptied onto the kitchen floor. Their fear grows stronger as they head up to bed, they cradle their daughters through the night, covering their ears from the screams, wails, sobbing and laughter. Sofia and George succumb to the exhaustion. When Sofia is woken, she is shivering it is so so cold. As she opens her eyes the fear grips her throat tight, that not a sound she can make. Stood before her is a girl, her hair is matted and blood stained, her face swollen and bruised. She just stands there smiling at Sophia, but not a smile of warmth, the girl is smiling with a torturous grin and an icy glare. Sofia grabs George, and when he looks into his wife's eyes he can see the fear within them. Their third christmas was ruined. They decided to find out the history of the house. They needed to understand. After much research, talking to local residents including the local vicar. It becomes clear number 63 had a violent history.
The Conner family were a large family and in 1966 they moved to number 63. The father was a womaniser and the mother drank herself silly to mask the pain. In 1967 the mother fell pregnant with her fifth child, only this child was another mans baby. The husband found out and although angry, he knew his wife had fallen into the arms of another man due to his womanising ways. The woman gives birth to a baby girl in the spring of 1968. As the baby grows older, the bigger the problems got for the couple. The man resented the child as too did her mother. It was only her 12 year old sister who showed any love for the baby girl. The father often hit the baby and so did her own mother. One December night, after an argument the father grabs the young child and it's his own 12 year old daughter that stands in his way to protect the baby. He pushes his daughter so violently she falls and cracks her skull on the table. An hour later she dies. The mother and father hide their daughters body, digging it in the coal shed in the garden. The father cannot cope with his guilt and after a violent and tempestuous year and the anniversary of his daughters death approaching. He leaves his wife and the children one rainy December day. The torture the little girl had suffered at the hands of her own mother and her step father was indescribable after the death of her beloved sister. However that December was to be the cruellest of all. Her mother hated her, she blamed the now 3 year old little girl for everything. By Christmas Eve the mother could take no more. She had been drinking all day long, there was no food in the house and no coal fire. The young child went to play with her siblings and the mother just turned on the little girl. She ended up beating the girl so severely that one of the older children ran to the nearest neighbour for help. The lifeless body of the little girl was left by the fireplace, the mother just sat in the chair and carried on drinking. The police found the sisters body in the coal shed two days later and the mother and father were both arrested and the children were taken to an orphanage.
Number 63 had families move in but they never stayed very long. The rumours were that the place was haunted by the tortured little girl who was viciously murdered on Christmas Eve. Before the Rafferty's moved in, the house had stood empty for many years and again it stands empty, for the Rafferty's moved out following their third christmas at number 63.
©Kim Brown 24th December 2012
The Curse Of Christmas Eve • Opuss № I