I was born in Kherson, a small town in Ukraine that is often forgotten amongst bigger cities such as Kiev and Odessa. My family and I lived in a huge apartment complex which had a rich history of deaths and accidents. It was originally built on a graveyard during the Soviet times, leaving once buried corpses to be constructed upon. A strange occurrence that happened during construction was the story of a builder, who fell from the roof and was spattered on the ground in an instant. Because of this, angered spirits are said to roam the bulding's halls, searching for their justice.
Like mentioned before, I lived in this homestead, and many paranormal events took place which haunt me to this day. It all began before my birth, when my mother started experiencing peculiar sleep paralysis. This went on for months, and stopped directly after I was born.
Let's skip to when I'm about seven years old. I went to bed one night, and woke up because of loud crashing coming from the kitchen. It sounded like someone was throwing around silverware. I of course stood up, and quickly turned to the weirdly open window. It was storming, so no smart enough person would leave it like that.
I walked to the kitchen, and gawked when pots and pans were scattered across the floor. In the morning, I asked my grandpa if he had been getting a late night snack, but he claimed to have been asleep all night long. Since that night, I started having dreams of a shadowy figure sitting on my ceiling and mocking me from above. I had this dream for years in a row, that is until I finally moved out. As I grew older, I began remembering more and more.
One of my clear memories was the man that would walk up and down the hall when I went to bed. I could hear his faint footsteps creaking on the floorboards. I was afraid to talk about this because of my fear of it coming back, and hopefully it won't. Now I've moved out, and am writing this with the goal to forget. I have many other stories, but those are for another time.