From the time I was born until I was about six or seven years old, I believe I lived in a haunted house. Of course, I was really young, therefore I do not remember much. However, I will tell you about the experiences that my brother and I recall ( my parents say they don't remember having any experiences of their own )
What I experienced didn't amount to much. Sometimes on Saturday mornings I would wake up and hear dishes and silverware rattling and being moved around in the kitchen. My dad's an excellent cook, so I would always run into the kitchen thinking he was cooking breakfast. When I got there, I would always find the kitchen empty and my family still asleep in bed. I was so young at the time that I didn't understand the concept of ghosts. Therefore, I always just went back to bed, not knowing that I should be scared.
One night, I was laying in bed awake. For some reason, my eyes were focused on this dollhouse I had, which was directly opposite my bed. As I lay there looking at it, a form of a little boy began to appear. He was sitting beside the little house with one arm resting on the roof of it. Once again, I was so young, I didn't know I was supposed to be scared. I sat up and bed and said out loud, "Do you want to play?" The little boy smiled and nodded at me. I got out of bed and walked towards him, but as I got closer he disappeared. I wasn't freaked at all, I just went back to bed and fell asleep.
Another time when I was sleeping in my brother's room ( he had two twin sized beds ) we saw a strange light radiating from our play house across the room. My dad was out of town, so we screamed for mom. We were convinced the light was a burglar. She searched every nook and cranny of the entire house looking for an intruder. When she found nothing, she told us it must have been a car's headlights that was coming down the street. We believed her, but when I think back on it, considering the position of the house and the street, there is no way that a car's lights could have shined on our playhouse.
The worst experiences were the ones my older brother had. At the time when we lived in the house, I had no idea that any of his experiences were going on. To this day, he doesn't like to talk about them, so I have to go on my parent's account of what happened. I have been told that practically every night, my brother would wake up screaming and crying. My parents would rush into his room and find him hysterical. He would tell them there was a mean lady sitting on the foot of his bed, and she was smiling at him evilly. My parents would see nothing, but the only way to get him to stop crying was to take him out of the room. If they tried to put him back, he would start screaming again as soon as they carried him through the doorway.
As I have said, I was too young to realize what a ghost was. I didn't even know I was supposed to be scared of them. In fact, I didn't even realize that the house was haunted until ten years later when my mom brought it up! Only then did I remember my experiences as significant. : )