My grandmother died in April of 2002. My uncle inherited her house, in which she had lived for close to 50 years. In early 2003, my ex-boyfriend and I did some renovations to the house and quickly moved in, renting it from my uncle. I believe the ghost of my grandmother haunted that house for a short time.
About a month after moving in, my boyfriend and I got into a really big argument that lasted hours. I cried all night and ended up sleeping on the couch, just to avoid him. Shortly after falling asleep, I woke up to what sounded like very heavy breathing. It was very loud and I couldn't fall back asleep. I thought it was my boyfriend snoring.
I began to walk down the hallway to the bedroom to wake him up so he would stop, but as I passed the kitchen, I realized the sound was coming from there. I stopped to listen and the breathing sound continued, just as loud. The house was located in the country and I had seen raccoons on the porch outside the kitchen more than once, so I thought perhaps it was just an animal. I slowly walked around the kitchen, looked out the window and finally opened the porch door, looking for anything to justify the noise. I even checked the bedroom, just to make sure. I found nothing. The noise did not stop until I lay back down on the couch.
After that incident, my boyfriend and I broke up and I lived in the house by myself. I started hearing footsteps in the attic on a regular basis and the light would come on by itself almost everyday. It was an old house, built in the 1910s. The "attic" was a room in itself, as large as the entire downstairs and quite functional. In fact, it used to be my dad's bedroom and my grandparents later used it for storage and a home office. The noise I heard sounded just like someone in high heels was walking around up there. My grandmother always wore high heels - I rarely saw her without them.
The footsteps would wake me up most mornings and always lasted for a half hour or more. If I opened the attic door, the noise would stop. Most nights, when coming down the driveway after work, I would notice the attic light was on, even though no one had been up there. I had to turn that thing off so many times it became a joke! I've always thought that my grandmother's ghost was up there looking for something.
After living there for about three months, a friend of mine, Ashley, needed a place to stay for a couple of weeks, so I offered to let her stay with me. She had a one-year old daughter at the time. One day, when I was at work, she was playing with her daughter in the living room when her daughter started smiling and waving at the corner of the room. Ashley dismissed this until her daughter picked up a book, walked over to the corner and held it in the air - as if she were handing it to someone - and let go. A little spooked by that, my friend picked her up and was able to distract her with some toys. A few minutes later, her daughter started waving at the corner again. This time, she walked over to the corner, held her arms in the air and said, "Up", as if she wanted whatever was there to pick her up. Ashley grabbed her and left the house until I got home.
Later that week, my friend was sleeping on the couch and woke up to a woman humming. She asked me in the morning what I had been doing up so late. I told her I hadn't been up at all. She said, "Yes, you were. I heard you humming in the kitchen." I explained that it definitely wasn't me, but my grandmother was known for her humming. She hummed constantly while doing household chores. Ashley was so freaked out by her two experiences; she found another place to stay the very next night.
I lived in that house for another 8 months before moving out. In that time, the footsteps and the light in the attic continued the entire time. The house is now rented as a short-term guest house and as far as I know, no one else has experienced anything like that since I moved out. Not surprising though, as I was very close to my grandmother before her death and I think she was just trying to remain close to me. I believe she has moved on since then. I haven't felt her presence there in years.