I'm about to tell you two things that have happened in or around my home, the first one being when I was seven years old. It's about my uncle Eugene. Eugen was always my hero from when I was two, until I was seven. My mother passed away when I was two years old, so I moved in with my grandparents and uncle, and my dad moved to another town.
Now don't get me wrong, I still saw my dad every weekend, but for the majority of those 4 years, my main role model was my uncle Eugene. So you can imagine how devastated I was when I had to watch the paramedics come into my house, put my uncle on a stretcher and then into the ambulance. They took him to the hospital, but it was too late, he had passed away from an asthma attack, the same as my mother.
Well, I cried myself to sleep that night, and my grandmother decided that me and my sister should sleep in her room for a few nights because Eugene's room was right next to ours. So the night after he had died, we were sleeping in there. My grandmother turned off the lights, and her and my sister fell asleep. I've had problems getting to sleep all my life, so I laid there for about two hours trying to get to sleep. I opened my eyes for the hundredth time and realized there was a light on somewhere in the house.
I looked to my left and right, my sister and grandmother were still asleep, and my grandfather was at work. So I slowly sat up in the bed and stared through the doorway. The light was on in Eugene's room. We also had this breathing machine in our kitchen that he would use when his asthma would get to him, and as I stared in horror at his bedroom door, the machine turned on, and I heard him breathing into it. I laid back down quickly and closed my eyes as tight as I possibly could. And somehow I fell asleep.
That was the story about my uncle, here's the one about my great grandmothers house.
This one actually took place a few weeks ago. My great grandmother fell about 3 months ago and broke her hip, so she's been in and out of the hospital, when she's not at the hospital, she stays at our house, her house is right next to ours. I play bass guitar in a band, and I needed to get some practice in, so I went out there top practice, because I would be all alone out there.
I played through a few songs that we have, then I started playing this one we based off of a 50's song, and every time I would play that particular song, from the back room in the house, I would hear what sounded like the closet door open, something bump, and then footsteps pacing around the room. This would happen every time I played that song. And just recently I found out my grandfathers brother had died in that house, and also it was a house my great grandfather had built, so I don't know what's going on out there.
All I know is whatever it is, it likes our music.