My ghost story has been very hard to write only because I swear one of our loving spirits likes to mess with the computer. It's been shut off twice already. :)
I moved into my boyfriend's mother's house about a year and a half ago and let me tell you this is one of the creepiest houses I've ever been in. I have never been gifted enough to see a spirit but I can sense them and always have since I was very very small. I don't like the dark much because of that very reason either and like dealing with spirits in daylight when I can manage better. But anyhow, this is the story about our more prominent ghost in this house and his buddies.
The house was built in the 1950's and is one of the rare few with a basement in the whole entire town we live in. The soil is awful and anyone with a basement is lucky to have it. I don't know exactly where the heck this boy came from but I have a feeling that he is the reason I get such an awful feeling when I go down into the basement. He is by no means a cruel ghost, he just doesn't get a lot of attention.
He first made his little self known to me one afternoon when I was vacuuming the uneven staircase that goes up to bedrooms and big bathroom, I was minding my own business when all of a sudden I felt a child sitting next to me, watching my progress. I promptly turned off the vacuum got up and hurried outside where I stayed until my boyfriend got home. It was just a little too disconcerting at the moment. He likes to hide things though. Important things like the only set of keys, money, important papers, so on. He eventually puts them back where you left them but if you're on the verge of getting very angry and you yell loud enough they suddenly appear behind you.
There is a person who walks frequently, perhaps a man from the footsteps, on the roof of the living room and makes his way through the wall that splits the roof of the livingroom off from the hallway between all the bedrooms and he proceeds to go down the hall deliberately and into the master bedroom where he disappears.
The last one we believe likes to visit us is my boyfriend's exgirlfriend who died about fourteen years ago. She was his first true love and she died a few months after she broke up with him and was pregnant. She used to throw rocks at his window late at night to get his attention. She still does this to this very day. And my boyfriend believes that she has a ritual of coming into the computer room at midnight on the dot and turning on the computer, then at three she comes again and this happens every night. We've finally just started closing our bedroom door and ignoring it.
The most recent and newest happening though was a few weeks ago and my poor brother was at the receiving end of it. He had told us the night before at least ten times to wake him up for work and that he had to be there at six. His alarm clock wasn't working so well at the moment. My boyfriend, of course, underminded my thoughtfulness and turned off our alarm clock and a little after six the next morning my brother was knocking on our bedroom door white as a sheet. I asked him what was wrong and he asked me if I'd tried to wake him up by calling his name. I told him I hadn't and he asked my boyfriend the same thing. My boyfriend said no and we all looked at each other. One of our ghosts had woken my brother up so that he wouldn't get in trouble at work.
That is just my latest experience. My brother tends to attract more ghosts and meaner ones but so far in this house it's mostly been a nice benevolent experience, though I always keep as many lights on as I can. You never know.