My pal "Marco" had his Grandmama who needed a housemate at the exact same time that I did. The situation was much in my favor.
His 81-year-old Granny "Nora" lived happily in the 3-storey house her husband, Otto, had built for their family. Like many older folks she was very set on living in her own home, but much better off with someone to look out for them. I was recently homeless due to melodrama, couch-surfing around. So, I was very grateful to Marco and his family for trusting me to look after her.
She and I got along, as long as I did not pester her mixed stacks of valuable documents and old junk mail. Which truce was brought on by my panic at finding her marriage license and deed to house between pizza coupons headed for recycling.
I enjoyed her feisty attitude and kept the place up as best I could, clutter untouched. I felt positively "adopted". Family dropped by all the time unannounced to do chores or say hi.
As was usual, one day when Nora had an appointment to keep, she and her dog stayed overnight at Marco's parents house. It was nice to play my music loud and take as much time as needed for a "spa treatment" without rudely monopolizing our tiny shared facilities. I cranked up my music and set everything up salon style.
I left the bathroom door open enough that I could hear the loud stereo from my room. The front door was locked and each window set off the alarm if opened. But folks had keys, and were welcome, so I had propped the door partway closed. Probably with the rug, just in case someone popped by.
I ran the tub. While it filled, I was on the seat, doing my nails. Like many standard baths, the tub was farthest in, next to the toilet, then sink. The door hung on the wall opposite the sink, so I could see out down the hall from where I sat.
Everything was chill. It was late summer daytime inside the house. I was doing my toes, waiting for the tub. Then the door moved open, just a little.
I reached across the sink and moved it back where I had it. I went on about my toenails. I got in the tub.
The door pushed open just the same, twice more. Both times I moved it back. I could see there was no one outside the door.
By then I was more than freaked out. Except for the occasional cheeky thumping from walls of empty rooms, I had no reason to believe that any spirits were there, or had taken notice of me. This sudden bold move before my eyes was very very frightening to me.
We'd never met before, but I believed it to be either Grandpa Otto or his deceased, eldest grandson. Nobody had warned me for this. This was unexpected and scary. I was not sure what to do. The timing seemed more to be teasing, by peeping and letting me know. I am not a modest person and took no offense if that was their intention. There was no reason to scare me. I tried to reason the movements away as just the house and frame settling.
I shut the door and got into the bathtub. No sooner had I sunk back to relax than something as large and loud as a baseball hit the bathroom door with some force and fell flat to the floor, as if thrown down the hall.
I jumped right up out of the water and tore open the door. I expected to find whatever had hit the door but the whole hallway was clear. I had had enough. It was my day off and I had time to myself.
I said loudly to the thin air "You are scaring me on purpose and that is mean. You know I am here to protect Nora, with only kind intentions. Your family asked me to be here. Please stop."
I shut the door and got back in the bathwater. Nothing else ever happened again in the years I lived there. Because I thought I knew "who" it was I was not scared. I chose not to tell the family, not wanting to seem crazy or for Granny to be riled. However, I was respectfully aware from then on that I was not the only one there, watching over Nora and the house.
After Nora needed more care then I could give, her daughter helped me get my own place. I am grateful for their whole family's kindness. This includes my gratitude that nobody told me until years later, that during my stay Otto had been seen reading the paper at the kitchen table, just as he had done in life. Grandpa or no, this solid eyewitness account would have scared me away immediately, especially after my own incident.
As I understand, the home is no longer in the family. This leads me to believe that Otto is at peace now that Nora is beside him again.
Thank You for reading. This rather humdrum experience is the closest I have come to the dead or unseen, that I am certain of. I have no other explanation for what happened, and likewise no proof but my own senses. It seems this site is a place where even a simple happening like this one would be understood as profoundly frightening and real, and not something I would not care to repeat.