I have some stories to share, some from me, my father, and my friend (who I did not know lived there until like 3 months ago) who also lived in that house after me, which was the first time someone other than my family owned that house.
My family has owned this house since the late 1800's, it is one of the oldest houses in the city, although now pretty much abandoned, since it is starting to rot and nobody is willing to buy it after the things they hear.
The first person who'd owned it was my great great great grandfather, and then given to my great great grandfather when he passed away, which is where my grandfather grew up in and later my father, his brother, me (Nichole) and my two cousins (I'll call them Marc and Jason since they would not want me using their real names) Lets start with the house now. The house is a 4 level house, basement, middle, upstairs, attic (used as my father and his brother's room when they were kids) The living room was also once used as a funeral parlour, and also, my great grandmother had died in the basement, my great great grandfather in the upstairs master bedroom, everybody else who died had all passed away in a hospital. My grandparents (fathers parents) are still alive now.
Now that you know enough about the house for now, here come the stories. First one was told to me by my father (I never asked my grandparents if anything had happened to them, which I will maybe post if I find out anything). My father told me once he was in his bedroom in the attic playing around with his toy cars (he was 10 at the time, his brother 9), everyone else was outside when he started hearing like someone throwing around books down the attic stairway, which leads into my great grandmothers old room. He went down the stairs to check, and there were books torn up all over the floor. He went downstairs and ran outside and asked if anyone had come inside, but they were all across the street talking to neighbours. So he went back in and brushed it off and went to watch TV in the living room then in the corner of his eye, he saw a silhouette of what looked like his great grandfather sitting in the old rocker he used to sit in when he was alive smoking an old pipe. He got the guts to walk up to the chair and see if he was seeing things, as soon as he got up the silhouette disappeared as quickly as it appeared. After that day he said strange or unexplainable things would happen in the house.
Now for something that happened to me. After my great grandmother and my great grandfather had passed away and my father/mother/uncle/aunt/cousins and I moved in with my grandparents, everything seemed normal, until a day when everyone was out except my grand father, my cousins and I. I was only 8 at the time, as was my cousin Jason, my cousin Marc was about 12. We were all in the backyard, when I heard what sounded like a rock falling from the roof, which drew my eyes to the kitchen window. Upon looking I saw a shadow, which looked like an old man passing by the window, I made a really loud squeaking noise since it startled me and I thought someone had broken in. I screamed at my cousins and they looked over and saw anything. I told my cousin Marc to go check it out, he would not go in without us, and so we all went in to check. When we got in, there were 4/5 plates smashed on the floor, which was weird since we hadn't heard anything and the kitchen window had been open. We asked my grandfather if he had heard/seen anything in the house, he said no, he was reading the newspaper. We got really freaked out and ran outside and didn't go back in there all day. (More stuff has happened to me, but it would take forever to write down, this was the creepiest thing that has happened so I wrote this one down)
Now for what happened to my friend. My friend (call her Jenica) had lived there for two years about two years ago. WHICH I mentioned her and her family were the firsts to live there other than my family. She slept in the downstairs room, which was my great grandmothers room before she died in the basement doing laundry, the door that lead to the basement was IN that room. She said the first couple months were quite peaceful, until that one day she started hearing weird noises from the basement door, so she put her dresser in front of it, the door was said to rattle sometimes. Sometimes things would move without being touched. Strange things like that kept happening until one day, something was said to push her brother down the stairs and they would see apparitions of what they said appeared to be in the shape of people in old clothes from the early 1900's. They got tired of the paranormal (?) things happening and sold the house. Which was then bought by a couple and then sold about 5 months later because they said they were experiencing things too.
Now the house is just sitting there abandoned. They want to tear it down, but everybody just wants it to stay there, since it's pretty much a historic house to the people in the neighbourhood since it was the very first house with electricity in town since my great great grandfather was an electrician. So hoping someone can buy it and fix it up.
Every time I pass by that old house, I still feel like my deceased family is watching over me and sometimes when I am closer to the house, It seems that I hear my great grandmother saying "Bonjour ma Cherie!" (Hello my dear!) Like she used to say whenever I would visit and I always get a feeling of comfort (yes, I was brought up in a French family. And just to mention, I am currently 14, and writing all this brought a tear to my eye). May they all R.I.P.
I hope you like my stories.
Bless you all.
If I left out any information, or anything you want to know or I mis-spelt something, feel free to write it down. I will reply.