The Keyboard that talked

I am sure that everybody at some point in their lives have experienced true fear. The sort of fear that sinks deep into your bones and anchors you to the spot. A fear that leaves an imprint upon their brain that never fades no matter how hard you try to rationalise or forget. This was my first face to face encounter with true fear at number 74 and my first major encounter with something truly horrific in the spiritual sense.

Not too long after the bones were found in the summer, there was a time of tension in our home. My mother and stepfather were arguing a lot of the time and me and my sister were now in the habit of shutting ourselves away or playing on the estate to avoid the horrible atmosphere at home. It was a Saturday and much to my dismay i had been grounded for a reason i cannot recall, whilst the rest of the children down our road were out basking in the last few mild days before the chill set in, Lil included and they zipped around on bicycles and launched water balloon’s at one another in the street, screeching and shouting at each other as they tried to avoid getting drenched.

True to form my parents were at each others throats as had become the custom and i had been banished to my bedroom which suited me just fine whilst they shouted insults at each other downstairs. I didn’t have a television in my room so i remember doodling in my diary for a short while before it grew boring and wondering what to do with myself to drown out the noise. I went to Lil’s bedroom and took down a keyboard that she had stashed on the top shelf of her built in wardrobe, it wasn’t anything fancy just a simple keyboard that in truth was for children much younger than me as the sound effects consisted of farm animals and the like. I was going through a bit of a phase where i wanted to learn music so i thought i could improvise and at least come up with a basic tune i could practice.

I took it to my little room shut the door behind me and made myself comfortable on the carpet with my back against the cool radiator. I let my fingers dance across the keys freely, experimenting finding the ones that would make the most satisfying tune. After settling on a simple melody that sounded right i practised it a few more times before deciding i would record it and show it to my sister later on when she came home. I pressed the record button on the top left of the keyboard and all at once my excitement was shattered by the sounds of all the sound effects coming on at once, it was a horrendous noise as they all played over one another in this cacophony of disturbed drawling animal calls. A few seconds of this unnerving noise and i came to the conclusion that maybe the batteries were wearing out, and wondered if i had anything nearby with batteries i could swap them with. Before i get a chance to act the sound effects started to die down fading a little into the background but still looping over and over.

A voice came through the speaker’s…. the kind of gravelly, deep, guttural voice you hear in horror movies. It started bellowing out my name far louder than the speakers were designed for. AMY…AMY… AMY over and over again all the while the oink’s, moo’s, cluck’s and tractor noises played in the background like some sort of disturbed sound track to a hellscape. It wasn’t like it was making a sound that could have been mistaken for my name it was roaring it out clear as day. I screamed so hard my lungs hurt and then screamed some more as that awful voice rose above mine trying to drown me out AMY…AMY. I tried to squirm backwards to get away but the radiator stopped me. I tried frantically pushing the red off button but it did absolutely nothing so i shoved it about a foot across the carpet to the middle of the room all the while hysterical as this object continued calling my name.

Mum and dad heard the voice and then my terror from downstairs over their argument. They later told me that they thought a bloke had gotten into the house unnoticed somehow, all logic abandoning them as the chaos coming from above them threw them into a panic.

I remember dad bursting through my door with mum close behind and the look on his face will stay with me until my last days, His eyes were bulging in shock as he clocked where the voice was coming from. Staring at it for a few seconds as it continued to ring out he looked lost, like he did not know how to deal with this situation, then in a panicked reflex he picked it up and smashed it against the floor as hard as he possibly could. The batteries flew out of it and the casing that held the back together became dislodged.

It didn’t stop. I s**t you not. Another 7 or 8 seconds passed by as it continued, before fading and then stopping altogether. The entire house fell silent as we all stared at one another open mouthed completely disturbed by what we had just witnessed. Mum and dad attempted to calm me down before dad abruptly snatched it up and took it straight to the outside bin and threw it in there. My fear induced shrieks had caused a bit of a commotion outside with a small group of kids and neighbours gathering near the front gate wondering what the hell had just happened.

Years later dad having always been a sceptical and practical man told me that that had been the one thing in his life he could never explain. In his own words…

“Yeah that was f*****g weird… i cannot explain that nor do i want to…it was just creepy.”

Even after witnessing what happened and hearing the voice with her own ears mum still never wanted to believe that there was anything paranormal going on with the house. I think it was a comfort thing, just pretend it never happened and carry on as before…. she would soon learn.

Friends of mine had asked me a couple of weeks later what went down and when i told a couple of them they all took the mick out of me. Cue voice of mocking disbelief…

“Aaahhh yeah i’m sure… your keyboard spoke to you, you nut job.” They laughed at me.

I never really lived that one down and i soon learnt to keep my mouth shut regarding anything freaky that went down in that house. I think that is why to this day although i am a trained clairvoyant i never call myself that… there is a stigma around it that makes it an uncomfortable thing to admit. It’s not that i ashamed it’s just i am not here to convince naysayer’s as a few of them seem to believe leading to heated debates. It is something that one has to experience to fully understand and i respect that.

I am still not one hundred percent sure who it was that day who tried in a very alarming way to get my attention….. safe to say i have never owned a keyboard and i don’t think i ever will…. you know.. just in case!

Photo credit Alex lby on Unsplash

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