Erin, New York, USA
It was a hot summer night and I decided to go over to stay at my friend Anna's house for the night. Her mother was going out and her brothers went to a party because they were on vacation from college. We were all alone up stairs sitting on her mother's bed talking about how we would be scared if a ghost came up to us. I said I would do exactly what my grandmother said to do, tell them they were dead to go to the other side.
Later that night, we were in her room watching TV and Anna got thirsty, so we decided to go down stairs to get her a drink. The kitchen was dark like every other room down there so we turned on the light. I told her that her perfume smelled good and she told me she wasn't wearing any. I told her it smelled like rose oil.
She got her drink and we were just sitting down talking when we heard a light breathing and something loud move or fall in the next room. I whispered and asked her if some one was in her house. We searched through every room and turned on all the lights and never saw anything. The smell of rose oil was very strong in existance though.
We went back into the kitchen and sat down. Well, from the kitchen you can see the dining room through an opening in the wall and the entrance. I heard the breathing again and looked up and I saw a flash of light and her curtain move far to the right and then back again as if some one walked past it. I got scared and started to cry. She asked me what was wrong and I said did you see that? She said that she saw the curtain move but nothing more.
We heard things comming from upstairs so we laid on the couch for the rest of the night until her brother got home and we made our way upstairs. I couldn't understand why I smelt the strong smell of rose oil. We woke up the next morning and went into her mothers room, (because her mothers room is next to the stairs) and we noticed her mother's roses that she had just got the night before had the pedals taken off and neatly placed in a circle around the vase.
We walked down stairs and talked to her mother. Her mother noticed the roses too and thought that it was odd. She told me her sister Rose was fond of roses and she was passed away. I thought now was a good time to bring up the rose oil. Her mother said that her sister always wore rose oil. Could it have been my friends Aunt Rose that scared me half to death, or was it just the heat playing games with our imagination?