Kathryn, MA, USA
From 1995-1997, I lived in a 90+ year-old house on Todd Pond Rd. in Lincoln, MA. There were two wings of the house, separated by a door that could be locked. The older section of the house centered around the current kitchen and included two bedrooms, a sitting room, a bathroom and a small kitchen. The staircase to the attic was in the hallway between the two wings.
I was the only of my siblings living in the older wing of the house and I would frequently be awoken by the doorknob rattling or doors slamming after being opened slowly. There were cold spots in that area of the house and the rumor of a secret passage was bolstered by stairs that went nowhere.
The most remarkable phenomenon, however, happened to my younger sister. For several weeks, my 14-year-old sister seemed agitated and very easily frightened. It was not until years later that she told me of her reasons for being in that state.
In the attic, there was a daybed with a compartment for storage beneath the cushion. I found sheet music there and we occasionally would entertain ourselves by rummaging through drawings and letters. My sister found a small book of recipes written in a child's handwriting. Since she had a fascination with old things, she took it to her bedroom in the new wing of the house to read through it.
A few nights later, she awoke with the impression that she was being watched. The next night, she saw a girl of maybe nine years old watching her through the window. There was no balcony or ledge on which someone could stand. The girl did not respond to questions or statements, but would disappear after a few moments.
My sister finally returned the book to the storage compartment in the attic and was never bothered by the girl again.