When I was younger, back in the mid-seventies, my husband and I lived in an apartment complex. We were fairly well acquainted with the couple who lived above us. They were an attractive couple, but their relationship had been a volatile one to say the least. They fought constantly over any and everything and from time to time, they'd even been known to take shots at each other with a snub nosed thirty eight pistol the man owned.
One night, what I'd feared for months happened; they got into one of their heated arguments, but this time it ended when the woman shot the man to death with his own gun. The man fell to his death on my porch, right in front of my front door. No charges were brought against her after the woman pleaded self-defense.
Less than a week after the man's death, she began to behave irrationally. She became jittery and claimed to have seen the man in her bedroom on more than a few occasions. Once, she'd even said she saw him climbing up the wall outside her bedroom window. Less than two months later, the woman packed up and moved hastily out of the apartment and no one ever saw her again.
Then, one night about six months after the man had gotten killed, my husband and I were entertaining friends, among them had been my husband's uncle who'd been legally blind since his early teens. It was late summer and as will happen in summer, a fierce thunder storm struck, with plenty of lightning, high winds and blowing rain. The storm lasted for all of twenty minutes. However, the festive mood left with the storm and everyone prepared to leave for home. My husband and I walked to the door with our guests. I was the first to reach the door, only to find that something was blocking the screen door. But I couldn't see anything that could have been responsible for it. After pushing hard a few times, the door finally opened and I stepped out onto the rain drenched porch, and saw that something was wrong.
Even though the entire porch was soaked, the spot in front of my door was bone dry and what was even more eerie, was the fact that the dry spot was in the shape of a human being, from the shape of the head down to the feet, and it was lying in the exact position my neighbor had fallen when his wife shot him.
No one wanted to believe it even though several people witnessed this weird sight. To validate it for himself, my husband's uncle leaned down and felt along the dry spot with his hand, and it left him speechless.
We moved out of our apartment several months later, but until we did, occurrences that could not be explained happened in the apartment. I knew it was my neighbor. He wasn't ready to go and until this day, I believe that he still haunts that particular apartment.