About ten years ago, when I was 15, I moved to up north Michigan to live with my father. He lived on the upper floor of a cute home that had been converted into two apartments. While we all encountered many unexplainable experiences there, the one I am about to tell has always stood out to me the most.
My dad used to work the evening shift so I was always home by myself until about 10:15pm. While I was usually quite the social butterfly, I decided to stay home and relax. To me, the best way to start relaxing has always been to take a nice hot shower.
I went into the bathroom and closed the door, making sure it was locked. I then removed my clothing. As I was reaching in to turn on the shower, I distinctly felt a large, warm, and gentle hand caress my back. I immediately jerked up and turned around to find no one there. Needless to say, my nice relaxing night was over. I decided to forgo the shower so as not to give the "spirit" any more of a peep show and I quickly got dressed and sat on the couch waiting for my dad to get home.
As I was sitting there, I heard the downstairs door open, and saw the door to the apartment rattle. (The top door always rattled when the bottom opened.) I then heard someone stomp about half way up the stairs and stop. Thinking that it was my dad trying to scare me, I went and opened the door. No one was there, and nobody had gone back down the stairs. By this time I was pretty freaked out. I ran back inside, sat on the couch and blasted the TV. Fortunately, nothing else happened that night but it was scary none the less.
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