Growing up I have always been told ghost stories from my dad. I chose not to believe them because it was stupid and fake. Or so I thought. He would tell me about all these experiences he had when he was little and my aunt and uncles all confirmed it. They all told me about this time my dad, aunt, both uncles, and my Grammy were all playing with a Ouija board that they had just bought (apparently from Toys R Us) and my aunt started like levitating, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and her voice changed into a mans (keep in mind she was like 8). I would laugh every time I heard that story because in my opinion ghosts were not real.
It wasn't until we moved to Texas that I started to change my mind. The house was originally a two bedroom two bathroom house but they renovated it to a four bedroom three bathroom house. My room and one of my brother's rooms were upstairs and there was a jack and jill bathroom connected to both of our rooms. The house itself was really nice, but the story behind it wasn't. The reason they renovated it was because it had caught on fire and a family died. It turns out my room was actually the attic.
Well, it started off small. Ya know, figures walking around, stuff moving, doors slamming. But soon, I would wake up in the middle of the night to see a man or woman standing right by me. There were also times when I would hear a little boy calling for his mommy (no, it wasn't my brothers). It got pretty scary until we moved.
I remember one time I was in the bathroom with my cousin and we were doing makeup and both bathroom doors were open. Me and my cousin were having a competition over who can do the worst make-up and I was pretty sure I had won because of the look on her face. It took me a second to notice she wasn't even looking at me. She was looking behind me. So I turned to look only to see a white figurine standing right next to me. Me and my cousin got so scared we locked the bathroom doors and ran into my room.
That same week, her and I had just come home from a Valentine's dance and the power had gone out in the house (it happened a lot because of storms). We were eating pizza on the stairs to my room and all we had were these fake candles my mom was obsessed with to light the room. We were just sitting there enjoying our pizza when we heard a door behind us open (my bedroom door was very squeaky). I turned to look behind my, only to see a small black figure (about the size of a four or five year old) run from my room into my brother's. My cousin didn't notice but she knew something was wrong once I threw my plate and jumped off the stairs. She asked if perhaps it was one of my brothers but we found them both downstairs in my parent's room.
That night her and I were sleeping in my room. She was against the wall because she was too scared so that left me to sleep on the side closest to the door. I woke up in the middle of the night because I got a weird feeling and I roll over to see a guy standing right by me. At first I didn't really think anything of it because it could've been my dad checking on us. I just kept staring at it and my eyes adjusted so I could see it clearly. It was a man in an army uniform standing next to me with his arms crossed over his chest and a smile. Something about seeing him was very calming. I'd forgotten my cousin was in bed with me so once she started moving I kind of freaked out and looked away from the man. When I looked back I noticed that he was starting to like fade away or something. All that was left was the top half of his body. He smiled and waved before completely fading away.
I must admit it stopped scaring me after a while. I finally got used to the fact that there were spirits living with us. They weren't really harming anything or anyone.
We lived in that house for two years before moving. We moved to an even smaller Texas town (less than 1,500 people). As soon as I stepped into that house I had a feeling I'd been there before. It was all so familiar to me. As I was looking at my soon-to-be room, I found myself walking outside to this one stone that had the date the house was built carved into it. I got a really bad feeling and really bad deja vu as I looked at the "11-31-70" carved on the stone. The first few nights I kept smelling smoke at random times and I kept feeling like I shouldn't be there. A few nights I even had dreams I was trapped in my room and it was on fire and I would wake up to see a man who looked like he'd been burnt alive. We moved less than a year later.
We moved back to California to be with our family. I thought maybe I was done seeing ghost but apparently not. Me and one of my brothers shared a room and over the summer he would stay up all night watching youtube. In the mornings he would yell at me for something and I was confused so I asked him what it was. He told me that every night in my sleep I would sit up and point somewhere in the room and say something about a woman. It only happened for three nights though. The first night I pointed to the door and told him that she was standing right there. The second night I pointed in the air vent right above me and told him that she was watching us. And the third night I pointed right by my feet and said that she's coming for us. Apparently I started screaming after that. My brother got mad because he said my stories sounded so real and I was saying it in my sleep so he would keep the light on because he couldn't sleep after that. It wasn't my fault he couldn't see the eyeless lady staring at us.
I never did believe in ghosts until we moved into that house in Texas. Now I'm starting to think that they're following me.