I'll never forget the day my grandfather died. Or how quite the house seemed to be.
1992 was the year I would be turning 11 I was old enough to understand what was going on but not old enough to go to my grandfathers funeral. I remember the first incident like it was yesterday. I can't remember waking up or even going down stairs all I know I was standing by the living room door. What I saw I know was no dream.
As I walked into the living room I could see little specks of lights everywhere they were actually suspended in the air. I know why these specks of lights where in my living room because they brought back my grandfather or so I thought. I remember him talking to me but cannot remember what he said; he sat in his favourite chair which was his rocker. This was the beginning of some weird experiences my Nan and myself would see hear and feel. Nothing ever scared or hurt us in anyway but all the same, we never saw ghosts but always felt like we were being watched which made us feel uncomfortable.
My Nan witnessed more strange events than I did. She was hard as old steel toecap boots lol. My Nan and I argued a lot. I now feel terrible for the way I treated her but I was a spoilt brat, anyway back to the story. Every time we argued or disagreed about something, we would hear glass breaking in her bedroom, never mine just always seemed to be something of hers, a vase or a perfume bottle would break. Guaranteed when you went to investigate there would be glass on her floor.
Other strange things started to manifest themselves, like the time I was in bed and woke up early hours of the morning to someone walking up the stairs, that was not what bothered me. With the noise of the footsteps came heavy breathing and a heartbeat. I swear I could hear it as plain as day; no it wasn't my Nan as she was fast asleep in bed. I woke her up and explained what had happened. She said I was dreaming and to go back to bed. Deep down my Nan knew I wasn't dreaming she just knew how shocked and pale I looked.
Things didn't seem to get better neither did they get any worse but strange things still happened. Your name would be called most days. When I turned 12 years old I was allowed to stay home alone, my Nan sometimes would be gone for the day. I wasn't allowed keys so I would climb through the kitchen window which was more like a cat flap. I would be halfway through and the door handle to the pantry would turn and open, I would be back out that window so fast you wouldn't see me for dust.
Not long after I turned 12, I moved back with my mother in England, I spoke to my Nan a lot on the phone. She still experienced paranormal until the day she died 13 years ago.
This might not be the best story, you have read, but I swear to you everything is true. Thanks for reading and god bless