About 4 years ago, when I was 14 I spent a lot of time with a friend called Kate. We lived in the countryside of Hampshire, a county in England. Her house was more rural than others though, she lived on the only road going out of our small town, her house was the only house on that road and it was around a mile from any other houses. Behind her house there were fields, they went on so far back you couldn't see anything else.
The house was white, originally it was a cottage, but it had been built up and was now a two story, 3 bedroom house. I have had several experiences in that house, but as it was so long ago I'm unsure if my mind just embellished the stories of smaller scares.
The first thing I remember happening was when Kate told me not to worry, but every night there would be three knocks at her bedroom door, it was just a child they called "James". Her mum told me the story behind James just after Kate had told me about the knocking. She told me they had someone who could communicate with James round after they experienced some strange things. The man told them that this spirit was a 9 year old boy, called James. He had died in a war when he was 26, and had then reverted to his happiest times, which was as a 9 year old boy in his old house (the cottage Kates house was build from).
The reason the knocking was always on Kate's door was because that was his old room. After that explanation I still didn't believe it was haunted, because I didn't believe in ghosts and spirits. That night I stayed in Kate's room, Kate was sleeping on the bed and I was on a materess next to her bed, I begged her to stay up until 12 because I was scared of the knocking, in case it actually happened, she promised she would but fell asleep shortly after 10.
I tried to wake her at 11.50, I remember looking at the clock, just panicking but she just moaned and rolled over. The knocking started at 12.02am.
I was sure it must have been her brother messing around, but the heavy latched door slowly swung open, and seconds after the computer chair swung in a circle. I'm not sure if this was the wind, but I freaked out. Now this is the part that I'm pretty sure was a dream, a very real dream. I remember looking to the side of me towards Kates bed, so I could grab my things, as I looked over I saw a little boys face under the bed, inches from my face, he looked strange, not happy or sad, more like he was playing a prank on me. A micheivious grin I'd say.
The one thing making me think this wasn't a dream is that I don't remember waking up, I just remember grabbing my things and running to the stairs crying, Her mum was sitting on the couch in the living room and I was begging her to take me home, I was absolutely terrified. She called my mum and I got to go home.
Another night I stayed there, and probably the last time I ever did, I remember the family were watching most haunted, I didn't want to get scared by it because I knew what happened in the house and it would make things worse for me, so I decided to go outside and jump on the trampoline. After a while I heard something, it was like a raspy breathing and scratching, I looked below me where it was coming from and a women was underneath the trampoline, I could see her face through the black netting.
She was wearing all black, with a patterned scarf wrapped around her hair. She was using her fingernails to scratch the netting I was sitting on, she was staring straight at me. I ran back inside crying and that's when they told me about the several other ghosts in their garden, including a women who lost her baby and still looks for it most nights.
I didn't really talk to Kate much after these experiences.