This happened about 20 years ago when I was 3 or 4.
My family and I moved into one of the towns oldest houses. My room was right below the attic and that is where we kept all my toys at the time, so every night my sister and I, who was 10 at the time, would go up there and play. Every night around 10:30 my sister would go back downstairs to go to bed and I would stay up there for a little while longer.
Every night around 11 my sister would hear me talking to somebody and when she would come up there I would yell at her for scaring Ethel away, she asked me where I got that name from and I said it was on the wall. She asked me what wall and I told her it was the wall behind the old doll house in the corner. That doll house was in there when we moved and every time we tried to move it seemed to be nailed to the floor so we just left it there.
When she went to go see it, nothing was there and then the chalk that we used to draw on the walls with started to write the words "My name is Ethel". That got my sister really scared. She finally believed me and so every night she would stay up there with me to talk to Ethel.
When we got older we went to the library to find out more about the history of our house, we found out that the person who built the house built it for his wife and his new born baby. 3 or 4 years after the house was built they got a maid and she she didn't like Ethel, so she killed her in the attic. I also found out that at the time I was the same age as her daughter when she died and that was probably why it seemed like she would only talk to me.
Since then I've moved out and got my own house but my mom and dad still live in that house, so now I take my 3 year old daughter over there and she goes straight to the attic and plays with the old doll house and she talks to Ethel.
Thank you for taking the time to read my story.