Back in Feb 2003 my house burned down. I was a 7th grader. We were living in a rental house (which was newly built, we were the first people to stay there) while our house was being rebuilt. One night over the summer, I was up late reading. I went to bed at 11, and had trouble sleeping, feeling a bit afraid in the dark. At 1 am, I turned the hall light on and kept my door fully open. 5 minutes later, I heard the screen door downstairs open. I sat there listening, very afraid. I heard footsteps walk through the living room and kitchen, through the hall and stop at the stairs. A moment later they began to ascend. I waited, my heart pounding and my palms sweaty. I stared out my doorway, I had a view of the stairs through my door, but where my bed was I could only see about a 3rd of the staircase. A sliver of black came into view and then moved. I hid under my covers. The footsteps stopped at my door. Suddenly I heard a noise a few feet from my bed, that sounded like a pile of laundry being dropped. Then I felt as if someone was standing near my bed. I held my breath but thought I heared breathing above me. I felt a light pressure on my bed near my leg. I got up some courage, took a breath, and flung my covers off, ready to scream. No one was there. I looked around my whole room, behind my bed, under, in my closet (though I knew no one would be there) and couldn't find anyone.
I ran out of my room to my parents room down the hall, not looking around me, only focusing on their door. I went in and told them what happened. They told me if I was scared, to go sleep in my sisters' room. Shocked they wouldn't get up to check for an intruder, I left to sleep with my 2 sisters. While I was in there, I could hear noises in the hall. I wasn't sure if my parents had gotten up, or if it was something else. The next morning, my mom asked what happened. I explained, and she told me the sliding door had been wide open when she came down that morning.
I had always thought it was a person sneaking into our house. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. I never thought it was anything else until awhile later when we weren't in the house anymore. My parents and siblings have told me their own stories.
Apparently one day, my younger brother was home alone when he heard noises in our parents room, like someone going through drawers and pulling things out. He went to check, and saw no one. Everything was as it should be. He called my mom crying, telling her what had happened.
My sisters say one day in their room, they were laughing at a small stuffed lion sitting on their globe lamp. They were making fun of it, when suddenly it went flying off.
My step dad has said he was in his room alone, and he heard a noise like a finger nail tapping on the window. There was no way anyone could have been up there. He also heard loud moaning in the bathroom once (makes sense, right? Haha).
Even my mom, who, while she believes in ghosts, is not one to get worked up over anything, believes something was strange about the rental house. She has said that there were many times she thought Frank, my step dad, had been coming home, but when she checked, there was no one.
I still remember a similar thing happened to my brother and I when we were alone. We thought someone was coming in, but when we checked, no one was there.