From a small child I have shared this house with two ghosts, they didn't bother me, I just got used to them being around. It seems no-one else in the family knew they were there.
My grandparents lived just over the road, I was there every day and often slept over in the back bedroom. Now that room scared the hell out of me. I always felt there was someone standing by the bed, someone angry, and I couldn't sleep without the light on.
This went on for years until I was old enough to stay home on my own, my own ghosts seemed much friendlier. About ten years ago I learnt some interesting facts from my Uncle. He told me that my other Uncle, his brother Noel, had been killed in a motorbike accident in 1953, one month short of his 22nd birthday. Not only that, but he'd got engaged that day and was killed by a drunk driver. Well some of that I already knew. What I didn't know was that back bedroom had been his and he had been laid out in his coffin there after his death. Phew!, no wonder he wasn't happy. Everything had been taken from him at the happiest time of his life.
My Uncle told me he had never liked sleeping in that bedroom either. I never told my grandparents, they were very religious and would only have become upset. After they died, the house was sold and I was never able to try and help Noel move on. For all I know he is still in that old back bedroom.
My grandparents never got over the death of their beloved son and probably never knew he shared the house with them until they too passed away.