First of all, this is a true story. I have had a ghost in my house for as long as I can remember. When I was in early grade school little things would happen, like the TV turning on and off by itself or the toilet flushing by itself. Everyone but me would laugh it off and joke about about having a ghost. One time, my parents left me and my friend, Kelli, home by ourselves while they took my brothers to their soccer games. The weather was still pretty hot so Kelli and I went swimming. We both felt like someone was watching us from my room. So we got out of the pool and walked into the house. It was so quiet. When I opened by bedroom door I saw some of my dolls laying on the floor. I had three cabbage patch kids and a fraggle (Mokey). Mokey was laying on the floor in front of the door, in a lewd position. One of the three cabbage patch dolls was on top of my curtains, another was riding a stuffed horse, and the last one had it's head caught in my desk drawer. We ran upstairs to my older brother's room, and stayed there until my parents got home. Nothing happened again until I was in sixth grade, on Christmas eve. I had strep throat so I lay on the sofa and watched everyone else open their presents. My dad volunteered to stay home with me while the rest of my family went to church. He was in the family room watching TV, and I was in the living room on the sofa still. Right as I was falling asleep, I heard footsteps. I thought it was my dad. I looked up and no one was there. I laid my head back down and closed my eyes. Then I heard whispers. Like someone was whispering right in my ear and repeating something over and over, fast enough to where I couldn't make out the words. Even though I was too sick to move, I jumped off the sofa and ran into the other room where my dad was. After that night, the thing would not leave me alone. I would be in my room listening to music and I would hear something. So I'd turn around to find all of my tapes on the floor. This happened all the time. One time I turned around and my Andrew Lloyd Webber book was floating, as soon as I saw it, it fell. Another time, I was listening to my dad's old records. He had tons of musicals that I didn't have on tape. I walked across the room from my stereo and picked something up off the floor. When I stood up and turned around, one of the records was flying toward my head. I ducked and it hit the wall and rolled to my feet. I had the coldest room in the house too. Even during the summer it was freezing in my room. Then one night over the summer, I was up until 2 writing a play. It was storming outside. We had storms every night that week. I was getting pretty tired and I decided that I would finish the page I was on, then I'd go to bed. I heard a hanger move across the bar in my closet. I had metal hangers and a metal bar, and it sounded like someone pulled on the hanger really hard and moved it with alot of force across the bar. I jumped out of bed and immediately thought the devil was in my closet, and ran into the family room. I was so scared. I turned on the TV and after a few hours I was pretty calm and had almost forgotten the event because I was so tired. I got up and turned the TV off, and sleepily sat down on the couch. I laid down and right as I was about to pull the covers on I looked up and standing right next to the TV, there was a man in a yellow trench coat with a hat. I couldn't see his face, but his eyes were glowing pale yellow. He held out his hand like he wanted to grab me. I just sat there, almost crying. I couldn't scream at all only air came out. His hand was shaking and it looked like a real man's hand. It had black hair on it. I closed my eyes and covered my face with the blankets. When I looked up again he was gone. I did not sleep at all that night. After that I was much more paranoid and the little things continued. Things were still thrown at me, tapes and things would be thrown on the floor. Then Robert, one of my little brothers, saw him standing outside my room one evening. And another of my little brothers, Kevin, stayed up the entire night one night, because he saw the man walking up the stairs and half way down the hall and turning around and walking down stairs to the family room, then turning around and walking back upstairs and half way down the hall again. He repeated this all night. Then nothing happened for awhile. Until the summer before my sophomore year of high school. I moved into my older brothers bedroom upstairs. I was talking to my now ex-boyfriend on the phone about how my school has a summer reading program and this year the books were so boring. Then I hung up the phone and began to read the books. I felt extremely tired, too tired to sleep. So I went downstairs and went to the bathroom. Then I found one of my dad's books. I started to read that, and I was ready to sleep. So I walked back upstairs and laid down. I turned my head on the pillow and noticed my closet door was wide open. It is impossible for my closet door to just open. I always keep it closed and locked. it has a lock on the inside because my dad screwed up when he put the doorknob on. So the only way to open it is from the inside, or to find where I kept the key to unlock it. Everyone in my family was sleeping. I freaked out and ran into my parents bedroom and slept on their floor. that was the last time anything happened to me because my friend, Joe talked to it and scared it away.