This story was doing the rounds about six months ago, but now it’s back in the news. A Cork couple, Laura Burke and Richie Hewitt, moved out of their council house in the Hollywood Estate along with their four-year-old son Kyle because they claimed it was haunted.
According to Laura and Richie, little Kyle was thrown out of his bed by an evil spirit, keys went missing and the cooker kept switching itself on. In scenes remarkably similar to things you might notice on the average rented DVD horror movie, cushions flipped over on the sofa and glasses flew off the counter. Cupboard doors opened and closed with the contents of the cupboards flying all over the kitchen. Instant mash powder and TV dinners everywhere, though there are no reports of former Taoisigh hiding in the cupboards. Holy pictures were flung from the shelves.
Screams were heard in the dead of night, which I underestand is not an unusual thing in Hollywood Estate.
Things went from bad to worse. They even called in Paul O Halloran, a Shamanic healer, which strikes me as a bit odd. Why did a couple who had traditional holy pictures call in a Shaman? Was he the only exorcist on call?
Anyway, moving quickly on, Paul the Shaman performed a ritual cleansing of the house but it made no difference. Doors banging. Drawers opening and closing. Heads rotating. Boils breaking out on the dog. Mothers sucking cocks in Hell. Portals to another universe. Projectile vomiting. Lightning conductors falling off churches and impaling priests.
It was fucking awful.
It was awful, said Laura.
Awful, agreed, Richie.
Fucking awful, said little Kyle.
The family saw glowing orbs floating in the air, and the child saw eyes following him around the room. Orbs, now. Not globes or balls or bulbs. Orbs. It’s such a common word, isn’t it, on Sky TV ghost-buster programmes? Wouldn’t it be a terrible thing if you allowed your 4-year-old to see things like that on telly as you sat up eating your quadruple pizza super-meal with extra Cola? It might put ideas in the poor little tyke’s head. Scary ideas.
Laura was adamant: I get the feeling something is evil. I don’t believe it means us well.
Something evil, agreed Richie.
Fucking evil, said little Kyle.
They called in a priest, who tried to put holy water in the font, but couldn’t. Holy plaster ducks went flying everywhere. Holy pots and pans jumped off the cooker. Get out, said the priest, there’s evil in this house, before being cut in half by a sheet of glass.
A former tenant who returned to visit his old home at Laura’s request, reported feeling an unnatural coldness in the house.
It’s unnatural, he said. Unnaturally cold, almost as if there were glowing orbs flying around, and an evil presence present. He was subsequently pulled into a mattress by unseen hands and cut into small pieces.
Fucking small, said little Kyle.
Meanwhile, Laura and Richie denied that their demand for a new house had anything to do with the scumminess of the neighbourhood. Dismissing suggestions that the lowlifes sitting on the garden wall were far more dangerous than any ghost, Laura said I know what I seen. There was a cold, cold feeling about the place, and an evil presence. Even drinking holy water didn’t help.
Cork City Council have now issued a formal statement on the matter. They can take a flying jump at themselves, said a spokesman. The big knackers.
Big fucking knackers, said little Kyle.