I am a serious 17 years old, so don't get put off because I'm young. A couple years back I was going through some tough stuff, right after I found out my father was dying. This is a two part story, because it had two sides to it. I'll post the second side later. This is the good side.
There was a dark presence in the house. Everyone down to the dog could feel it. I have always been sensitive to ghosts, and it was making me sick. I couldn't sleep at night. I could barely function in the day light hours.
Three days into it, my room gained a sheltered feel to it. It was like a sanctuary, but I didn't know why. It felt like I could breathe again. The freedom was overwhelming. Even my mom felt something different. The dark thing left, but for months the good feeling in my room remained.
I was doing something in my room, probably reading or drawing, and got up. I saw a man standing by my closet. He was the source of good feeling, because I wasn't scared of anything. On the contrary I felt far calmer than I had for weeks. I only caught a glimpse of him, but I'll never forget what he looked like. He was probably a little over six feet tall, dark brown hair, dark eyes, and middle aged. He had a slightly scruffy look to him, and had a shadow of a beard coming in. I've never seen him before in my life, and I described him to my mom because she's really knowledgeable about ghosts. She didn't know.
I saw him a couple more times near my closet door, always watching everything, but I never once got that hunted 'I'm being watched' look. He was always a source of great comfort to everyone except my dad.
I saw him once by an olive tree in my backyard. He was facing the house in the morning when I went to get breakfast, about seven o'clock. Mom was in the kitchen too, and I told her to look out the window. I didn't say why in case he wasn't there, because then I would have felt a little foolish. She looked and saw him for sure, but all she said was. 'That's him.' I'm like 'no duh mom.' But I was pleased she saw him too.
My mother was the last person to ever see him again. My sleepless nights were mounting again, and it was around eleven at night and she was going to the bathroom. The next morning she asked me if I slept well. I was a little puzzled, but said yes. Then she described to me what she saw last night as she went past my open door. I guess he was sitting on my bed, keeping watch in a way. He had on some old army drab, and mom told me I looked really peaceful.
His presence was there off and on for the next three years or so. But now he's gone, and I miss him terribly. I had gotten accustomed to him. I could tell if he was in a room as soon as I walked into it. I talked to him, told him stories. He was always the silent listener, but I knew he was, in fact, listening.
Will he ever come back? I've always had problems sleeping, and have been terrified of things in the night. He was like a balm to those fears, kind of like a guardian or a friend. Even my mom and sisters miss him. The things in my house are driving me up the wall and now he's not here anymore. For about a year, he has been gone. I feel foolish and a little selfish, but mostly like a lost little kid. Will he come back? Sometimes I ask him to come back. Has he, well, moved on? Please tell me what to think. I miss my ghostie friend. Sounds silly, huh?