Let me preface by saying I am indeed, shall we say, attuned to the paranormal. I claim no reason for this, simply that I have seen entirely too many would be coincidences to believe otherwise.
The origins of this story begin my junior year of high school, which I spend more of my time shirking responsibility and acting the stereotypical teenager that I found myself faced night school to make up classes as my only option of graduating. These classes were only offered at the "alternative" school, Mountain Cove HS. The school is built in a corner of what was a military facility during WWI, in which it's rumored such things as the testing of mustard gas and other terrible things occurred.
My sources on this aren't necessarily in a position to make such claims, but are reputable enough to have no reason to lie. Needless to say, it was decommissioned and a the school was built on a corner of it.
During night school orientation, as an afterthought they mentioned that the place was haunted. It's on a dirt road a mile or so out of downtown, and looks eerie enough when arriving at dusk. The alternative aspect of the school is that it's used for the kids in trouble with the law, pregnancies, drugs and whatnot, so as schools go it looks like a prison. I assumed the whole thing was a bad joke, and thought nothing of it. Now faced with the prospect of failing high school entirely, I excelled in night school. I became the teachers pet, and was often given assignments to go make copies or bring her supplies. It was on one such trip I noticed that as I made my way across the yard, a light was on in the second floor of a building that had always been locked. Looking up at it I could see the silhouette of a young girl. It wasn't as if I was at a bad angle, rather, standing directly in front of the window, I could see her, but she had no features. It was as if a girl of pure blackness was looking out at me.
More than unnerved, I quickly hurried on to the library to make copies, and took some comfort in the fact that the librarian was there. That was until in plain sight of both of us the copies finished printing, and then flew out of the paper tray as if someone had thrown them. It wasn't exactly heartening that the librarian's reaction was simply "that happens" and continue reading her book.
I had quite easily figured out that the statement "this school is haunted" wasn't a joke. I came to find out everyone else seemed to know. When I suppressed enough of my teenage boy ego to tell someone, they were hardly surprised.
Over the next weeks in that school I would find this more commonplace than anyone would believe. More than once and rarely alone, myself and others heard footsteps, or children laughing or crying. All anyone ever said about it was that no one's ever been hurt, and they'd all gotten used to it. But I know those 8 weeks are something I'll never forget.