The house I grew up in was haunted. It was the house my parents brought me home from the hospital to, so it was the only house I ever lived in until I moved out on my own after high school.
It was haunted by not only one ghost, but two, from different time eras and of both sexes. The whole area including the abondoned house next door was haunted.
It was a very active haunting. Everyone openly admitted within our family that it was, as well as anyone who spent more than a few hours in the house.
I could see them, but no one else in our immediate family who lived in the house could. Of course being able to see them greatly added to the fear factor. I was too afraid to try to communicate, and fled as fast as anyone else every time something happened!
I loved communicating with spirits who had already crossed over, but growing up, ghosts scared me half to death!
From spirits I felt loving energy, and immense warmth. But from ghosts, what I felt was (and still is) a chaotic range of negative emotion from fear to depression, to confusion, to anger, and freezing cold. This is what caused my fear.
I have always had a very healthy curiosity, and even back then, would investigate things I knew I should not, so I did, at times, try to be brave and watch or follow. Quite frankly, though, it never occurred to me to try to get video or photos of the things that happened. I didn't need evidence! Everyone who had spent time in the house, knew that it was haunted, because they experienced it! There was no one I needed to prove it to.
As you came into the back door of the house, there were four steps up and a door that led to the kitchen, and ten steps down that led to the basement.
Our family spent a great deal of time in the kitchen. We would be sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner, and hear someone start at the first step from the basement, and walk up all ten stairs to the landing spot, stop for a second or two, then continue the next four steps to the kitchen door and stop. This happened a lot!
There was also often the sound of lots and lots of glass breaking against the concrete floor in what we called "the back of the basement", but when you would go down there, go through the laundry room to the area and look around, there was never any broken glass.
In later years, my parents remodled, and put my and my sister's rooms in the basement. I still remember my sister's shrieks about being moved into the basement with the ghosts!
Honestly, though they were not contained to the basement. Strange things happened all over the house. TVs would move away from the wall, and unplug themselves, rocking chairs would rock, you could see indentions on bed covers that had been made, see things move, and a great deal of other things.
I took piano from age 6, and every time I played certain songs, I would hear the female walk up behind me. I would feel all the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and feel her sadness, but I would never turn around. If I continued to play she would stand there until the end of the song, and go away, but if I stopped, or froze, things in the room would move, and I would jump up and run as fast as I could to the outside!
Thank goodness I've learned to not be so afraid, and have learned to help spirits who are trapped here as ghosts to cross over by working with the other side. There are still ghosts, and negative, evil energies, though, that I steer clear of. I leave those to the special souls who bravely send them back to wince they came.
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