In most of the few paranormal experiences I've had, I have never noticed anything bad happen to me because of them. I mean sure I would have nightmares from time to time; there was nothing emotionally scarring about these experiences (even though I still think back often on them). This story took place around the age of 14 or 15, when I had moved downstairs into our basement after my older sister had had her first child (he was about 6-7 months old) and still lived at home with me and my mother while she attended college.
I had a tree that had originally been my sister's and it was covered in little white Christmas lights (to serve as a nightlight since the basement was always so dark). The stairway light was on since I hated the dark and my basement was always creepy like I was being watched. I still get chills to this day going down there. Anyways, it was around midnight when this happened. I had been asleep and felt like something was tickling my toes gently so I woke up. I looked up and saw what looked like my father standing halfway behind my door. Only half of his body stuck out from behind the door (I had it halfway closed since the darkness outside the door scared me). Looking back now, it definitely did not feel like my father; plus he was gone at the time on his job so I don't know why I thought that.
Anyways, I smiled and got out of bed, thinking he had come home and was stopping in to say hello before going upstairs to bed (I feel like I was a dumb blonde you see in the traditional horror films that always gets killed first because of her curiosity--"curiosity killed that cat"). When I got up he kind of tilted his head to look at me. He was tall and tan like my father, with shaved white hair and overalls and a red t-shirt. When I started toward the door he looked surprised and kind of "floated" back behind the door where I couldn't see him. He didn't step or even move his legs, he just kind of "floated". I opened the door all the way and there was no one there.
I looked out into the darkness of the basement (even with the stair light on it's still pretty dark) and I thought I heard an older man chuckling. Of course my fear and adrenaline finally kicked in and I shut my door and scurried back to the safety of my bed. Hiding under the covers, I thought I felt someone rub my hair gently like a father would do to comfort his child. Of course again I finally passed out.
Turns out my father came home the day after I saw this ghost/entity/whatever you wish to call it. I often have to wonder why some ghosts I see look like family members...