Many years ago my family rented a house from my dad's Aunt. I didn't know it at first but her son, my dad's cousin, which makes him my great-cousin, Lee, had committed suicide in the house. In fact, the room he shot himself in was the room me and my sister slept in.
My dad told me a few days after we had chosen that room that there were/are even bullet marks on the wall.

We lived there for at least three years and nothing really happened.
One day though my dad had opened the linen closet door which was in the middle of the hallway, and came to get me. As I followed him out of my room that door slammed shut. No amount of wind could have thrown it shut like that and we were the only two there.

Only one other incident happened, one that I still wonder about today.

I was playing on the tree outside with my friend who had spent the night. I was hanging from a branch that I was fond of and began to get my body back on the tree. I never had leapt from the branch to the ground, I always just hung there a bit and got back on the tree. This time though my hands had gotten sweaty and I began to slip. I started screaming that I was falling and my little brother ran to get my dad. My friend was still too far away to help me up and I was too far up to fall safely on the ground. Suddenly I felt something grab a hold of me. I looked down but my dad had only just got near the tree. I felt myself lifted up until I was able to get a firm grip and I hoisted myself into the tree. My friend watched this through and to this day is spooked.
I believe both happenings to be Lee.

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