Tiger

I have been reading stories on this website for a while now and I thought it would be a good time to submit my own personal paranormal experience.

When I was around 6-years-old (I'm now 13), I lived in a house with my mum, my stepdad (but I shall call him my dad, because he is like my own flesh and blood). As you probably know, all houses have some spirit or the other, some good, some bad. I think the spirit that spoke to me was lovely, always made me laugh. (I have a disability involving my legs so I was always in quite a bit of pain.) I think first I should explain a bit about the spirit who I spoke to when I was a little girl.

A man called Tiger lived in my area, and he was a lovely man. The problem was, he was very tall and very big, so many people were mean to him. Unfortunately, he died of suspicious circumstances, and many people didn't turn a blind eye.

I was quite a lonely little girl, so I loved to sit in my room and either watch videos, or draw. When my mum called me for my dinner, I ignored her because I was way too involved with my Lego house. I heard her call again so I looked up, and all I saw was a big man standing in my doorway. Being the fearless little kid I was, I just said "Did mummy let you in?" He shook his head. Then I said "Are you a ghost?" He nodded. I then said "Are you nice?" He nodded. I then said "Who are you?" He then turned away, sort of thumped down the stairs silently, and sort of disappeared when he got to the door, like sand blowing in the wind. I told mum what happened, but she dismissed it. It isn't that she doesn't believe in ghosts, because my entire family are avid believers. My mum just thought I was making it up the first time, until she saw him for herself.

She was drying my hair in her bedroom, as I'd just got out of the bath. I turned to the door and whispered "Hello!" My mum then said to me, "Who were you talking to?" I turned around and said "The giant".

Over the few years we lived in that house, he always made me laugh. He was also quite a joker. On quite a few occasions my mum's things would go missing, then appear somewhere else a few days later. I know it wasn't me, because I knew my mum would be angry with me if I moved her things. The thing that got moved around the most was her engagement ring, because I hardly ever saw mum wearing it while we lived in that house.

Once, my mum left her ring on the bathroom sink and went to her bedroom to get my hairbrush (I was following her around, asking for some sweets). When she went back, the ring was gone. It wasn't my dad because he was at work, our cat was asleep on the sofa downstairs, and it couldn't have fallen because there were no windows open, and it was on a flat, dry surface. It obviously wasn't me because I was with mum the whole time. We searched the house for weeks and weeks, and when my mum took me home from school one day, we went into the living room and there was the ring, sitting on the coffee table (Note, my dad went to work at about 5 in the morning and didn't come home until about 7 at night).

What do you think about this? Why do you think he was focused mostly on me?