I've recounted one of the scariest encounters I have ever had, but now I want to share a much nicer one. Perhaps I need to just because I've read some terrifying accounts on here and wish to remind myself there are pleasant experiences, too, lol.
When my 5 year old was 7 weeks old, we moved into a quaint little house in the historical district of our city. We had outgrown our little two bedroom and needed the extra room. The first night we stayed there, I heard knocking at the front door. I got up to check, no one was at the door, and went back to bed. As my husband joked that I was hearing things, we BOTH heard the knock that time. So he went to the door while I listened, and again, no one was there. This happened a couple times more, and we passed it off as jokesters in the neighborhood messing with the new family on the block.
For several months, the same thing took place, and other innocent "pranks" began to take place, as well. Car keys were removed from their hook and turned up in the dryer. Lights came on and off. The Cartoon Network would turn on in the middle of the night. Objects would be moved. footsteps would be heard in the hallway.
One day, a little over a year after we had moved in, I was in the changing room of the bathroom. The changing room had mirrors along three walls, the only wall to not have mirrors was the one which led into the actual bathroom portion. I was cleaning the counters in the changing room, and out of the corner of my eye in the mirror's reflection, I saw a little brown haired boy run past the door and into my son's bedroom. I yelled out, "Alex!! No running in the house!". I heard him call out, "What??" and then he came from the opposite direction. He had been in the den watching tv on the opposite side of the house. "OK," I thought. "so there's something really here, then." And I mentioned it to my unbelieving husband that night.
A couple more months went by, and I returned home from the grocery store only to find my husband waiting for me with a worried look on his face. Apparently, as he sat at the computer desk beside the hallway entrance, the little boy had run past him and into our son's room. He yelled at Alex for running in the house only to discover Alex was in the kitchen making himself a snack. So then he knew the ghost-boy was truly there.
I began talking to this little boy during the day while I was home with the youngest. Eventually, it dawned on me that this little boy felt at home there. He hung out in my oldest son's room and was most frequently spotted running up the hallway into his room. I became a sort of surrogate mommy for him and would have many conversations with him during the day and would even wish him a goodnight when I tucked in my own children. He was comforting to have around, actually. Something about him was peaceful and calming. I just had a sense he was even protecting my babies.
My connection to the spirit boy grew until our home was hit by the third hurricane in a row in two months time. That time, instead of losing monetary things like a fence and dog house, we lost almost the entire roof, encountered massive water damage, and had a small tree uproot and fly into the storage room window. As renters, our landlord forced us to move so he could repair the home and sell it.
When we moved, the spirit boy actually went with us at first. but I'm sad to say, the resident spirits of the new house (also in the historic district and well over 130 years old) apparently chased him away. There were three I could sense. An old woman who stayed in the kitchen mainly, an old man who was kind of grumpy, and another entity which seemed to be a bit mean spirited. But that's a story for another day....