The house that I live in now with my family has an unfinished basement. This is the first house we've ever lived in that had a basement because they were not common in homes in the little town in New Mexico where we are originally from. This basement has always been creepy to me. Most likely because having a basement was a new thing for me and because it wasn't too cozy or home like.
Our laundry room is in the basement. I'm never too thrilled to go down there but hey, the laundry isn't going to do itself. My two youngest children are ages 10 and 6. They can be pranksters with each other, their teenage siblings and me and my husband. Sometimes, before we would enter a room, they would scurry off to find a hiding spot, say behind the couch, and we would play along acting as if we didn't see them saying "Hmmm Where's Devin? I could have sworn I just heard him. Where could he be?" And he or both of them would pop out laughing. They've done this in the basement a time or two while we'd be down there clearing out boxes and items in preparation of finishing the space.
I was taking the clothes out of the dryer and began putting the newly washed clothes in. From the corner of my eye I saw what looked like one of my younger children playfully leap off of the last step of the staircase and scurry around the corner in to the open/den area of our basement. It happened so fast but it was clear enough to make me believe that one of my kids was up to their games. I wasn't necessarily in a playful mood and I just felt a little...odd. I yelled, "Well here, come help me with this." I didn't hear anything and I didn't want to look around the corner to check so, instead, I rushed upstairs with my laundry basket to find every member of my immediate family upstairs in the kitchen.
Since then, I will not go down there by myself. I haven't told my children about what I saw. I don't want to freak them out.