My story is actually few different incidents that happened in our old house.
The house we had in Waterville was most definitely haunted. The TV would change channels on its own, just to go back to the original. The lights that you swore you left on, would be off when you went back and vice versa.
Same with doors that were once open, they would be closed or locked.
The house really wasn't "old" but it had lived it's life. The Tvs and lights never bothered us one bit, it was quite humorous to be honest.
It all started about 17 years ago, before my father and I moved in with his widowed girlfriend, who had lived there a very long time. There were 3 bedrooms up-stairs. One at the very top and two across from each other at the other end of the hall. The bedroom at the top of the stairs was her youngest daughter "Beth's" room, who was 15 or 16 at the time. She used to smoke in her bedroom, and there was a old man that would always "visit" with her. I'm not sure what the name he ended up being dubbed was. He would always tell her how bad it was for her and what-not and just carry on with random small talk. They became good friends as she looked to him as a guardian. He also told her eventually that she wasn't going to have a very long life. She took this as anyone would that is given this information. She died in a very devastating car accident when she was 17. Not long after he told her that information.
Another incident happened to my father about 10-12 years later. He was sleeping on the couch in the living room, and was having a very vivid dream. He dreamt he was walking up the stairs towards Beth's room. He was in the hall and could see a woman sitting on the edge of the bed reading to two small children. He was unable to see their faces and attempted to go into the room. As soon as he took one step into the room he was hit flat in the chest, open-handed. He tried again two more times and the third time was hit so hard he woke up. When he woke, he had a large, red, hand print on his chest. Physically impossible for someone to inflict on themselves, and he was the only one home.
The last incident I remember was at about the same time as my fathers incident.
My grandmother was sleeping the the room at the bottom of the stairs. (More like napping) She woke up only because she was being poked in her shoulder. She opened her eyes to see a young man, fairly faded looking, with a blank yet concerned look. When she looked at him he just pointed at the ceiling. (which happened to be my room) So, my grandmother took that as an order to get out of bed. Now, my grandmother was a very blunt and open woman that didn't take anything from anyone. She got out of bed and stood directly in front of the young man, face to face. "I'm out of bed" she said "Now what do you want?!" All the man did was point up at the ceiling again, and again a third time when she asked what he wanted. She became disgusted with not getting any more from him and went up-stairs. When she got up there she found out the puppy had shut himself in my bedroom and no one knew.
I never wanted to leave that house, I was so intrigued. I believe in ghosts, to say the least. I have always been very "spiritual" and open minded. I was never scared to experience the paranormal, even as a very young child. Ghosts, or spirits, all have some message to relay... mine just told us to leave the woman and children alone, and let the dog out while you're at it!!