We had always lived in very suburban, crowded streets when I was growing up. But after my parents separated and each of them found their respective new partners, obviously the next logical step would be for them to move into a new environment with their new partners and to start afresh.
For me, however, this was not the case. I was very hurt by my parents separation for a very long time and even now I do not think I will ever fully "get over it" so to speak. I reluctantly agreed to making a decision and chose to stay with my Mum; her house was closer to my place of education not to mention most of my friends and other relatives. I have to admit that I did not always get along with my Mum and I sorely missed living with my Dad.
Unfortunately for me, my Dad had decided to move in with his new partner. She lived about an hours drive away in the middle of nowhere. Seriously, it was the kind of place that I had never even SEEN before he moved there. Houses made from old stone in villages with an average of 10 residents, hills that rolled on forever and nights that revealed a darkness I didn't think possible (no street lamps where he lives).
This all happened when I was 18 years of age. I am now 21 and driving my own car but I can vividly remember a feeling of sadness every time I would have to get two trains, a bus, and a short car ride just to see my Dad after seeing him every single day. I remember I would often cry myself to sleep in the strange, empty little box room that stank for months of fresh paint he had made up for me on the last minute so I could stay over night. It was like I was a visitor in what should have felt like a home from home, I was grateful for the hospitality but I just missed my Dad so much.
It was probably my lowest point when I started to see things.
My Dad lives in an old cottage, an extremely old cottage. To the point where it has its original wood burning fire and they had to have plumbing and electricity fitted and have a generator outside in case the electricity decides to give up on them, which it does often. Anyway, after a while he had me a key made for the front door... So if I was still willing to walk for 15 minutes or so after having caught my trains and my bus... I could let myself in. This cheered me up some because I felt like I could visit more often and not just when he wasn't working.
I mention this because my first "sighting" as I believe it to be happened just after he had given me the key. I had made the long journey and walked the final stretch to his house for the first time and let myself in. Directly opposite the front door at my Dad's are the stairs, which split at the top and go both left and right to the second floor. Just as I turned around from the front door, I saw it, clear as day although only for a second. What looked to be a very dark, black shadow (vaguely human shaped) crossed from the right hand side onto the top of the stairs and then back up to the left hand side before disappearing from my line of vision.
I called for my Dad even though as far as I was aware, nobody should have been home yet. My first thought was not "ghost" but "burglar" and I immediately exited the house and phoned my Dad to tell him I thought I had seen someone in the house. Luckily he was on his way home and arrived fairly quickly, I waited in the front garden until he got back. It wasn't until afterwards that it became apparent I had seen something more out of the ordinary than I had thought. My Dad could find no evidence of a break in, nothing was stolen or even remotely disturbed. No one had been in the house. Yet I had seen someone, or something, I was sure of it.
This was merely the first of many strange incidents which occurred at my Dad's house. They have had three animals, a cat and two dogs, die in that house. I have seen dog and cat-like shapes wandering the house after they are long gone, usually at the top of the stairs but sometimes in near the back door (I think this is perhaps because this is where the pets would often sit when they were still alive.)
Perhaps the scariest are the shapes I see at the windows sometimes. I have encountered a ghostly shape at almost every window of the house at this point. I say "shape" because they are not exactly faces, depending on how off guard it catches me my mind can run away with itself and I sometimes imagine they have faces; they are about the same size as the head and shoulders of a fully grown person.
They always appear when I am on the inside looking out of the house. My Dad's house has two windows in the living room, one at the front looking onto the street and one at the back looking into the garden. Both are pitch black at night, and I mean "can't see a hand in front of your face" dark. But on several occasions when going to shut the curtains, I have seen a strange greyish reflection on the outside, just hovering there, as if gazing in at me. And no they are not my reflection, I have a face, these do not. But there is definite a sort of mass to them. This has also happened in the kitchen and in my bedroom.
At this point, three, nearly four years on I am used to what I see when I visit my Dad's house. It almost always happens when I am there and by now I expect it; only rarely does it frighten me anymore, at best it makes me jump every now and then. What I find strange is that I am not quiet about this, particularly at first it would make me scream so it was hard to keep it to myself. But nobody else sees these shapes, three other people live in that house permanently. I am only a regular guest, and not one of them has seen anything.
I'm pretty sure my Dad now looks out for it but, nothing. There have been times when I've seen something and attempted to point it out to him, but he says there is nothing there that he can see.
This doesn't happen to me all the time, only at my Dad's, and it would appear that it only happens to me. It's as if something just makes these things congregate there when I visit. It's weird, but kind of amazing.
Sorry it's so long, glad I could share though.