It all started 15 years ago when my grandparents moved to Virden, New Mexico. They found an old, creepy looking house, but it was the only one for sale, so they had no choice but to buy it.
A few months after, my grandpa went to work for a construction company and was on the road a lot. Now, nothing would happen when my grandpa was at home, only when he was away.
One night my grandma and my aunt (who was still living with them at the time) would hear a knocking on the attic floor and on the closet door ( hey that rhymes!) :). At first they thought they were imagining it until something even creepier happened. One night they heard a little boy crying. There was no kids in the house. She then heard her piano being played. It wasn't a song, it was just banging like kids would do.
Another time, one of their neighbors was paid to go up into the attic to get a cat that had climbed through the window. Once he had gotten up into the attic through an entrance in the CLOSET, he began to scream. He was 15 at the time, and thought he was too old to be scared of anything. Anyways, he jumped out on the attic window and onto the roof. From then on he grabbed a gutter pipe and slid down. They were all pretty confused by that time. After he had calmed down enough to breath he said that right before he got to the cat, it started hissing and arching it's back at something in the corner. He said there was a little boy crying with bruises all over his face and arms. The little boy was saying, "Let me out!"
Years later, my cousin told me that the people who lived there before beat their son and made him go into the attic, which, as I said before had an entrance through the closet. He caught pneumonia and died.