This story takes place when I was approximately 11 years old (around 1986). I don't have that many paranormal experiences and many of those I have are a bit vague, more like feelings and such, but this one is a bit more difficult to explain away. When the story took place I lived in middle Finland with my parents in a one story house we owned.
When I was 11, my grandmother died. She had lived her last years with me and my parents because of her dementia, but died at the ICU after a few months of hospitalization. I don't remember the exact time when this happened, but sometime after her death and before her funeral I had a strange experience. I was sleeping in a room where my grandmother had slept and in a same bed she had used (house was small, and I was moved out from my parents room ASAP and into the only other bedroom available). One night when I was dozing in my bed, I suddenly heard the toilet flush. Then I heard the toilet door bang softly against the doorframe and footsteps, that sounded just like granny's, move from the toilet, through the hall and right to my room! I was paralyzed with fear. I was sleeping in her bed and afraid she would come straight to me. If I remember correctly, I kept my eyes closed and prayed long into the night. I didn't have courage to run to my parent's room, because I was afraid I would have to go through her. I didn't tell my experience to anyone for a long time.
After I was older, probably closer to 15, I told my experience to my mother (again, I don't remember why, probably I wasn't afraid of it anymore) and what she told me really shocked me. Her reaction to my story was like "oh, you heard it too?" Like I told you before, our house wasn't big and my parent's bedroom was actually closest to the bathroom, so the footsteps had headed right past their door to the room I slept in. At the time, I asked my mother to tell her version of that night and pray tell, it didn't much flatter their courage.
My parents had both been awake at the time. They had heard the same things I did, glanced at each other, and hid under the covers. What has always interested me is, that the family dog (that slept in their bed) had lifted its head, listened and went back to sleep (at least this is how my mother described it). The dog was quite territorial, spicy fox terrier used in cave hunting, and it did not welcome visitors quietly. I asked my mother why they had not rushed to my rescue and, to my opinion, she gave a flimsy excuse. They had thought I was asleep, and hadn't wanted to wake me. So much for parental courage.