I am currently a 17-year-old male and living in the South of England.
Back in the Summer on 1997, when I was 2-years-old, my family and I went to Devon on a small holiday. For those of you who don't live in England; Devon is a very historic part of the country, famous for it's history of witchcraft. According to my mother, we were staying in a beautiful large cottage (about 5 bedrooms).
From the stories I've been told on numerous occasions, what I'm about to tell you is 100% genuine. I was obviously too young to remember any of this happening, so these are probably not in chronological order, but these events did happen:
When my family first arrived at the cottage, they realised the family who actually owned it were living in a shed in the back of the garden. When my aunt asked the man why they were living in the garden of the cottage the man simply laughed and said "You will know soon enough" before handing over the keys.
Later that evening, my grandfather - who, sadly, isn't with us anymore - was babysitting me at the cottage whilst my mother, aunt, grandmother, sister and cousins had gone out for the evening. He was sitting down on the sofa, watching the football (or 'soccer') when, all of a sudden, the TV changed channels on its own accord. At first he thought nothing of it, but it happened two or three more times and he began to get frustrated. As he grew more frustrated, the dinner bell in the kitchen began to ring. For those of you who don't know what a dinner bell is, it was used back in the day by maids/chefs to let people know a meal was ready.
Another night during the 7 day stay, my aunt and my mother were getting into bed (they were sharing a double bed together). My mum asked if my aunt was ready for her to turn the bed-side lamp off, to which my aunt replied yes. When my mum switched the lamp off it immediately switched back on again. My mum and my aunt couldn't help but giggle when this happened a second time (which doesn't surprise me because, knowing them, they'd have been on the wine all night). After the third time it happened my aunt said "Lynn, if this is a joke it's not funny anymore". My mum insisted it wasn't a joke. So then my aunt decided it would be a good idea to say "If there's anybody here, give us another sign", which was a mistake.
On the far-side of their bedroom was a grand bookshelf which stood facing their bed. Suddenly, a book shot out of the shelf and landed next to the bottom of the bed. All of a sudden, several books began shooting out of the shelves. My mum still tells me to this day that she has never been more terrified than she was then, and she has previously lived in 3 separate houses, all occupied by one or more spirits.
On another occasion, my sister - being around 10 at the time - got out of bed to use the toilet. As she walked into the bathroom, she was startled to see my cousin, who is around 3 years younger, already sitting on the toilet. My cousin seemed extremely scared before saying "I thought you were the man in the top hat".
The last disturbing event that happened in the cottage happened to me.
My mum woke up during the night to a loud bang coming from the room I was sleeping in. When she rushed in, she saw me sitting on the floor giggling to myself. She was shocked and disturbed. The travel cot that I had been sleeping in was about 2x the size of me with fabric mesh walls - there was no way I could have got out of there myself. The only explanation we have to this day is I was lifted out.
That's all that happened during our stay in Devon, but I have more personal experiences with the paranormal to tell another day.