The following events happened in January 1994, at my parent's house while they were away on their wedding anniversary holiday. I arrived home from work around 5.30pm and pulling up in the driveway could hear a radio playing outside quite loud. Given it was summer, I assumed the kids next door were out in the pool and had turned their radio up loud so they could hear it. I thought nothing of it and went inside. The evening progressed, I watched TV, ate dinner and read for a while. The family dog, a corgi named Tim, was my constant companion and I never felt too worried about being on my own because Tim had a tendency to bark at any unusual noises and was quite fierce when it came to protecting the family. All through the evening the radio next door played, and I didn't think much about it even when I went to bed to read. It was around 11.45pm that there was a loud crashing noise that came from the other end of the house. I originally put it down to Tim, thinking he had knocked something off the family room table - but I wasn't comfortable with the logic myself because I couldn't think of anything he could knock off that would make that loud a noise. So feeling a little spooked I called him and he came instantly, jumping up on the bed with me. That was when I heard it. When you live in a house for 8 years you become accustomed to the noises certain door handles make when being turned. I was sitting in my bed, my ears pricked for any noises which might justify the loud crash, when I heard the door handle being turned in my mother's sewing room. For some reason, I don't know why, I called out "Who's there?" and the door handle released, springing back to the original position. I got goose bumps. And Tim sat there doing absolutely nothing - he just looked at me. I was quite scared and after a minute of sitting there, straining to hear another noise, I decided that I had to do something. Rather than investigate, I decided to ring my friend who lived around the corner to see if she would come and stay with me. I cautiously climbed out of bed, peaked around the corner into the hallway, then dashed into my parent's bedroom. I notice at this stage, given my parents room is at the back of the house and closer to next door, that the radio is still going. Having other things on my mind, I quickly dismissed the thought. I rang my friends house but there was no answer. I figured that I had to reach someone, so I called my friend's sister, hoping that my friend would be there. She wasn't, but I started relaying to my friend's sister what happened and the more I told her the more spooked I became. While on the phone to her I suddenly heard footsteps outside my parent's window. The driveway runs the full length of the house and my parent's spare car was parked right next to their bedroom window. So I started straining to see if I could hear anything more from outside, but all I could hear was the radio, still playing loud. That was when it dawned on me. The radio that had been playing since I arrived home was actually the radio in the spare car. Near hysterics, I relayed this to my friend and she told me to ring the police. I had never considered ringing the police before for anything, but at that point I was almost too afraid to move. I rang the police and told the woman on the end of the phone that I thought there was someone in my house. I didn't know what else to tell her. She organized for a police car to come to my house, but kept me talking on the phone and asking questions. During the course of our conversation she finds out that the dog is in the house with me and he has been unusually quiet the whole time. As soon as the police car pulled up out the front, Tim started barking. He was barking like there was no tomorrow and it was only when I opened the door to the policeman that he quietened. I explained again to the policemen what happened, with the noise, the door-handle to the spare room, the footsteps and the radio. One policeman went into the back yard to see if there had been any signs of disturbance while the other policeman went to Mum's sewing room. He opened the door and found nothing there apart for sewing equipment. Nothing had changed or fallen over that might explain the noise I had heard. The window to the room was locked, including the metal bar in the track to make sure it couldn't be opened. The room was totally sealed with no way anyone could get in from the outside. At this point, the policeman who went outside came back in and confirmed that the radio playing was indeed in my parent's spare car. I walked out to the car, escorted by the policeman, only to find the car locked. This would have been fine, but the car is about 30 years old and the doors can only be unlocked and locked again with the keys. The spare keys were hidden inside the house. So how did the radio get put on? At this point my friends rang to see if I was OK and the policemen suggested I stay somewhere else for the night. They waited for me to pack a bag and I drove out of there fast. Of course I went back the next day, but everything seemed quite peaceful in the daylight. There were a couple of other events that happened years before this incident that I had forgotten about, but remembered after this incident. One case was where I was in the back yard hanging out washing. My brother had only just gone back inside and I followed about a minute later. I had no sooner opened the laundry door that it was pulled out of my hand. I thought it was my brother playing a joke, but when I looked behind the door, there was no one there. Another time, Tim the corgi was in my parent's bedroom, barking at the back wall. When I went to call him out, he was quite distressed, growling and looking at the wall. And that was all there was - a wall. So I don't know. Maybe there are ghosts at my parent's house. I do know that every time it happens my parents aren't home. And I do know that I didn't imagine it - I guess that's all there is. I'd be interested in anyone's opinion or similar incidences, please e-mail me Thanks for reading.

Submitted From: Catherine, ACT, Australia

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