'My husband convinced me our house was haunted. The truth still makes me sick.'

As told to Ann DeGrey.

When Stefan* and I got married, we bought the only house we could afford. It was in a modest suburb about 45 minutes from the city. I loved the pretty tree-lined streets and friendly neighbours. It wasn't Stefan's first choice as he hated the commute and made it clear from the beginning: "I can't wait to move from here."

Still, we made it work. I planted a fabulous vegetable garden in the backyard, we had friends over for dinner every other week, and I loved being just ten minutes from my office.

Stefan mostly complained. I knew his job was demanding and his parents, who lived two hours away, were getting older and constantly asking him to visit.

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After two years, Stefan told me he wanted to sell the house and move closer to his family. I said no. I told him how much I loved it, and he didn't push anymore. But that's when the strange things started.

It began with unexplained sounds. A high-pitched beeping in the middle of the night. I'd get up and try to find where it was coming from. But it always stopped before I could trace it. Smoke alarm? Fridge? I checked everything. Nothing.

Then there was the vase. My grandmother's vase was given to me shortly after she passed. I always kept it in the bedroom. One morning, I walked into the living room and there it was, sitting on the coffee table. "Why did you move my vase in here?" I asked. But Stefan said there was no way that he had moved it.

Then he said he'd been getting weird feelings in this house. That's when he told me that he thought the house was haunted.

I laughed it off, at first. But the weirdness kept building. My vase moved around the house several times. Windows I was sure I'd closed would be open in the morning. Another night, I woke up to the sound of running water. I panicked, thinking a pipe had burst. I followed the sound to the bathroom and the sink tap was turned on. Stefan stood behind me and said, "Something's really strange here."

Another time I saw all our shoes, which were usually kept neatly in the hallway shoe rack, scattered across the living room floor. They were laid outside by side, like someone had deliberately placed them there. Stefan said things like, "This house wants us out. I'm sure it's haunted."

I'd always thought of myself as rational, but I couldn't deny what was happening. Then, Stefan went a step further: he hired a medium.

She came over, walking through the house with a serious face. Then she told us there was a male presence in the house. "He is angry. He was the original owner and he doesn't like you. He won't stop until you leave." I couldn't believe this! It sounds ridiculous but, at the time, I freaked out.

That was it for Stefan. He demanded that we leave the house as he didn't feel 'safe' there. I resisted, for a while. But the strange events didn't stop.

One night, just after 3 a.m., our old clock radio suddenly clicked on, crackling with static. It hadn't been touched in months, and we hadn't set an alarm. I sat up in bed, while Stefan said, "See, I told you. Things don't just turn on by themselves."

Eventually, I gave in. We listed the house and it sold quickly. I was so upset as I didn't want to leave, but I also couldn't live in fear.

Six months after we moved, Stefan and I split. We were arguing all the time and I really resented him for pushing us to move near his parents. But, soon after we broke up, I learnt the truth.

I bumped into his sister at a café. We made some small talk, and then she said she was sorry about what Stefan did and that I didn't deserve that sh*tty treatment. I asked her what she meant, and she said, "He told me he faked all of it. The sounds, the lights, even moving things around the house to make you think it was haunted."

I was horrified. I literally felt sick. She told me he moved things around while I was sleeping.

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He also bought some kind of sound device and timers to make things happen at night. He paid the medium to say the house was haunted. He wanted to move and thought I would never agree unless I was scared.

I was stunned, but it all made sense. The perfectly timed fear and the way Stefan never seemed truly surprised. He gaslighted me in such a horrible way. I thanked his sister for telling me the truth. And, as a writer, I now have some interesting material to use in a book.

I'm writing! But, to this day, I still miss that house. But I don't miss my ex-husband and what he did to me. He made me feel like an idiot. He made me doubt myself. I guess, in a strange way, he made me feel haunted, even.

*Names have been changed to protect privacy.

Feature image: Canva. (Stock image for illustrative purposes).