This happened in an old apartment my parents and I used to live in, in Minnesota. I have a couple small, but scary stories.
First story, I was about 5 or 6 and it was early in the morning and I was at school and my dad was at work. We had one of those cool, clear light-up landline phones. My mom was home alone watching tv when the phone rang and she picked it up and there was no answer. She hung up and a couple minutes later the phone rang again and there was no answer. So she turned off the ringer.
But then it started ringing again. She was very startled by this, so she unplugged the phone but a couple minutes later it rang again. She freaked out and started crying and she left the apartment and walked to my dad's work and refused to go back into the house until he was done with work and could return home with her.
Another time. My dad was at work again and my mom was having a girl night with her friend Jean, they were just watching tv, and I was there too. Later around 9, my mom had sent me to bed and she and her friend Jean had continued to watch tv.
There is the living room, and to the left is a hallway that leads down to the bedrooms and the bathroom. Right at the beginning of the hallway there is an entrance to the kitchen, so there is a fridge on the right side and then there's a wall with a giant plastic cased picture on the left wall of the hallway.
About an hour later my mom and Jean had seen me in the reflection of the picture. Nothing out of the ordinary, as a child I would often stand by the fridge in the hallway and watch tv through the reflection of the picture. My mom had told me to go to bed, then went back to watching tv and talking with Jean. About 5 minutes later, she still saw me standing there, so she got up to go down the hallway and told Jean to go around through the other entrance to the kitchen so they could trap me and get me and send me to bed for sure for the night. There was no sign of me. They got to my room and they swear on it that I was asleep.
Like, 7 years later my mom told me this story and I asked if I could have possibly been faking sleeping that night, and she told me there's no chance, because every time I faked it, I'd always end up laughing. Every single time.
Also, in the same apartment after my sister Tasha was born, once she was about 3, she would sit in the corner by the front door and talk to a boy and a girl and she called them by name. She called him Phillip, and called the girl Mary, and my parents have never used those names, so it creeped them out.
I would like to know what you guys think about these stories. And if you have any questions, go ahead and ask. Thank you.