I grew up in a small town in Central California called Templeton. When I was about four years old my parents rented an old two story house on a ranch. The house had to have been about a hundred years old or more. My mon used to always say that the house was haunted and I did hear alot of strange things going bump in the night but never really believed the house was haunted, I just thought It was a joke. Then years later we had moved to Las Vegas and around Halloween my mother had some of her friends over. She was telling them about the haunted house that we had lived in. I over heard them and went in to see what they were talking about. My mom was telling them about an actual ghost. She said that there was a picture of me on the shelf in the living room of that old house and that everytime she turned around it would suddenly be face down. She said she would move my picture and put my sisters where mine was and my picture still was always overturned. She even tried putting it in a different frame but, it still happened. I asked her if the story was really true and she promised that it was. Sounds to me like I had an entity. What do you think?