Here Ghostie, Ghostie!

Most people would never believe my story And I must say, I don't blame them.
It all happened in 2004 when I was nine. My parents had gone shopping and my sister was at a birthday party, so I was left alone with my one true love: the computer.
When they left I raced to it, turning it on and immediately starting to IM my friends; it was around 11:30. After about an hour I heard a noise; it was coming from the window. I turned my head, and to my horror and surprise, saw a small, coal black kitten licking its paw on the window sill. What scared me most was not the fact that we didn't own a kitten, seeing as my mother is allergic to fur; it was the way that it seemed to wave around in the air, like a piece of paper stuck to an air conditioner, and it was flickering in and out of focus. I jumped out of my chair so fast it fell back, and after whirling around I looked back at the kitten, only to realise that it was gone! My heart was pounding and beads of sweat clung to my face. Setting the chair back up, I sunk into it's cushioned seat, rubbing my temples. Had I really seen what I thought I had seen? No, it couldn't be. I had been a firm disbeliever in ghosts. But that was before the kitten incident. But that's not all; I decided to get back to my MSN, even though I was feeling sick to my stomach. I kept looking back at the window sill every few seconds, only to be relieved, yet some-what disappointed to see the kitten wasn't there. But after another half hour or so I heard that same noise; a small meow. Instinctively I grabbed the chair, holding it in front of me and watching over the top of it; and there it was: black and semi-transparent and wavering, flickering, and licking its paw. I was horrified, and it didn't help when it looked away from its paw and fixed terrible red eyes on me. I screamed, dropping the chair and darting to the door, tugging at it in a frantic frenzy, and when I looked back, the thing was gone! AGAIN! Panting, I slid to the floor, and hardly had a moments rest when a sharp knock was tattooed upon the door and I screamed, jumping up. It was my sister, back from her party early, and when I told her all about the kitten, she merely laughed at me, telling me to go to bed.

Nobody believed me except my friend, who's father was the manager of the building; she told me that she saw the same kitten a few years ago, and when she told her dad, he told her a story about an elderly couple who left behind a tiny black kitten, and it finally starved to death in the empty apartment behind the sofa, and was tossed mercilessly into the trash when it died by the former manager in the 19 hundreds.
You may not believe it, but it did happen. And it scared the daylights out of me; I never let my parents leave me alone at home. Never.