This is my first story, and I feel a little bit nervous (probably because it's at night, and I usually forbid myself to read ghost stories at night) about sharing it.
It first started on my 11th birthday. Strange, because for me, 11 was an unlucky number. Our living room and kitchen are connected, and if you sit on the couch you can see perfectly into the kitchen. In the kitchen, we had a table set up with a cake in the middle. There were also streamers hanging from the ceiling (I hope that makes sense). After I had opened gifts and we had eaten cake, I decided to sit in the living room and watch TV. I noticed one of the streamers swinging back and forth out of the corner of my eye. I looked over and it was swinging like a pendulum, though the others were standing still. At first I didn't notice anything weird, so I turned back towards the TV. A few seconds later, I realised that it seemed a little strange, so I looked back. There was a tall, about 18 years old, boy standing there, messing with the streamer. I got freaked out, so I quickly ran upstairs to the loft.
I turned on the TV in the loft and sat down on the couch. After about maybe, a half an hour (give or take), I got cold and grabbed a blanket off of my bed. Just to give you an idea of what the upstairs looks like, I'll try to describe it for you. When you walk up the stairs, you see my room to the left, and the loft straight ahead. If you turn right there's a hall. The first door is the middle bedroom and straight ahead is my sister's room (which she doesn't use because she sleeps in my room). Next to that is the bathroom, and there's also this empty space with a balcony that overlooks the front door.
Ok, so I grabbed a blanket off of my bed and sat back down on the couch. I looked over, and next to me was that boy again. I got REALLY freaked out and pulled my blanket over my head. I kept telling myself it wasn't real, and after I calmed down I slowly pulled the blanket off of my head. He wasn't there anymore. I sighed in relief. I went back to watching TV. After I while, I saw a black shadow dart up the stairs, out of the corner of my eye. I looked away and it suddenly got very cold. Sitting next to me was him, again! I almost screamed, but then he said "hey".
After I calmed down he started talking to me, I found out that his name was Cameron and he was an Indian. He had learned how to speak English from the people living today. He died around 1800-1900, but he doesn't know why he's here. He told me that he had been wandering around, searching for something, and happened to stop here.
Cameron is tall, tan, and somewhat thin. He has brown eyes like most Indians do. He has dark brown hair just above his shoulders. He appears somewhat transparent. He wears breechcloth and leggings (http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~mosmd/indianmensclothing.htm these are what they are, if you don't know) that appear to be made of deerskin. He appeared to be wearing some type of Indian war paint, and had a spear strapped across his back. He also wore a feather headband and moccasins.
I told one of my friends that I knew would believe me about Cameron. She told me that not many people can talk to ghosts so easily. I asked her if I was psychic or something, but she said she doesn't know. So, if anyone knows, please tell me!
Cameron hasn't left since that day, and he doesn't seem like a bad spirit. He often sneaks around the house as a shadow, and sometimes floats around as an orb (which drives my cat insane). I think I'm the only one who has seen him in human form.
That's pretty much the end of my story! I'm only typing here because Cameron wanted to say "hey".
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