I think I've finally decided, that my house isn't haunted, but people defiantly don't mind stopping by here to say goodbye. I live in a small house in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, been here my whole life and was even born here in my parents room. I've got three stories, but I'll start with the first occurrence, the main and most significant one.
I woke up one morning and came to my parent's room. Apparently at that age, around 3 or 4, I was pretty talkative, and would start conversations with my parents all the time. This one morning I walked into their room, and told my dad, "There was ghostsies (yes that's was my grammar at the time) in my room last night." Not wanting to discourage me from the idea that ghost exist, and at the same time not wanting to scare me, my dad just told me, "Well, I'm sure they didn't want to hurt you" and I told him matter-of-factly, "I know, they said they just wanted to see me (possibly said, "look at me") . I continued to tell my dad "They names was John and Mary." As the story goes, this is when the hairs on the back of my father's neck stood on end.
I found out recently that I used to switch from my room to my parents room, and that particular night I had slept alone, in my room. And it's weird to me since I am a shy person now, to find out that when I was that age I would just strike up a conversation at all, let alone tell my dad I saw ghost and their names were such and such, without being asked any question to start that conversation in the first place. The background information is what proved to my dad and myself that I had actually seen two spirits.
My mother was pregnant when my parents were looking for a house, the couple that owned this one, were an old couple. The agent had told my parents after viewing the house the first time that the couple had said they really liked my parents that they were happy that the house would be going to a young couple expecting a child. I think somewhere along the line they might have said they'd like to see me once I was born. Their names in fact were John and Mary Mouldevan (though I'm not sure of the exact spelling of their last names).
The thing that really got my dad was that I really had no way of knowing their names. I know I wouldn't remember anyone's name at that age if they weren't close to me. Honestly I didn't even know the difference between boys and girls, I would call my dad "bad girl" because that's what I'd hear them call me.
The other thing was that the only time my parents would mention their name was when they would get mail coming to the house that was for the old couple. As far as my dad knew, they had moved to Minnesota or Missouri, some M state like that. Sometimes my dad would check the mail, my mom would ask what'd they get, and my dad would say "Oh some bills, a card, and the rest here is for the Mouldevan's, which I'm putting back outside". My mother would never say their names; my father would only call them by their last. So that was the real kicker to the story.
Two more short stories-
I remember one night me and my mom, (this was before my parents were divorced, but my dad was out of town), we had my grandma over, as well as my mom's best friend and her daughter staying over with us during a wicked hurricane. We were all hanging out in the living room, I think the TV was on, and we heard some loud noise in the kitchen, like the freezer was acting up. I was the only one not being lazy to get up and check it out, and I know it probably sounds stupid, but I saw ice cubes flying from the ice dispenser on the freezer door into the kitchen sink, about a 3 or 4 ft distance. It wasn't just cubes falling out of the dispenser, which is understandable, but 2 or 3 of them really flying across the room into the sink, even a few others that had missed the sink, but were still heading that way!
I told my mom and everyone in the living room what I saw, and her and her friend, who worked with her at the time, both teachers, had said "It's probably J.R., stopping by to prank us!" J.R. Was a student at their school who had recently passed away, and as I remember, they had been talking about him probably just a few minutes earlier. This wasn't a very definite experience, because I had only seen it for a few seconds, heard it longer, but it did pretty much stop when I walked into the kitchen. It's still something I remember, and is possibly some kind of sign of another side.
The last is a story about Lou, my grandma's best friend at the time. He was her camping friend, and all around buddy. He was also a heavy smoker. A few years ago he passed away from a heart attack. A night after he passed, me and my mom would wake up around I think 11 or 12, either way it was on the dot, and what would wake us up was this high pitched buzzing noise. We'd pinned point it to the living room, to the smoke detector, which was broken, hadn't been working for years and was probably why it wasn't a full on alarm sound.
Though me and my mother smoke on the back porch which is the closest exit to the smoke detector, we hadn't been smoking for the past 4 hours or so, and when we do smoke, the smell never lingers inside. Still, we could smell cigarette smoke in the house, and this would happen two more nights in a row, same scenario. So me and my mom agreed, it was just Lou, stopping by to tell us hey, and goodbye, stopped happening after his funeral.
My house I've concluded is not actually haunted, things don't happen all the time, or often at all. I think people just like to come by, before moving on for good.
Thank you for reading. Sorry for it being long, but I really did want to have as much detail and information as possible, and I will hopefully someday write another story.