The first clue that we had ghosts in our house (the old one, we have since moved a few times) was when my parents and I would leave the house during the daytime (when I was young) with the lights turned off, and when we would come back, they would be on. At first, we just dismissed it as forgetfulness...one of us had simply forgotten that we had turned the light(s) on. But after it continued, sometimes when we were sure we had not forgotten, we began to be suspicious. Then we heard the voices. Never audible enough to hear, but audible enough that you could tell it was a human voice. It alway seemed to be coming from downstairs (our bedrooms were upstairs)...but when my father first suspected buglars and went to check (and he was a very paranoid man, so I am certain he checked all possible hiding places and escape routes), he found no one there. It continued, but we could never make out what was being said, just voices. But the real turning point for me was yet t! o come. As I lay in bed one night, one of my hangers started banging in my closet. Believeing there must have been a train going by (I later remember the closest tracks were over two miles away), I waited for it to stop. When it didn't, I got up and went over to it. I saw the hanger banging, apparently of it's own power, against the other ones, rapidly moving back and forth. Believe me, I know what I saw, because by then I was within one foot of the hanger in question! I suddenly reached out and grabbed the hanger. I felt a small force on my hand, almost as if something were *pushing* the hanger, and then it subsided. Needless to say, I was already scared enough at 10 years old! But there was more in store for me that same night. I must have fallen asleep, because I didn't recall anything for a long time. I awoke when I felt someone pulling on my foot. My mother always did this to wake me up, so I didn't even open my eyes, mumbled something like 'I'll be up in a few! minuets' and turned over to go back asleep. For some reason then, I did turn around and look. Neither my mother nor my father (and I am an only child) was in my room or heading out of it. I went and looked in my parents open bedroom door. Both were apparently sound asleep. It was almost morning then, so I went and fixed myself some breakfast. From that day on, I knew for sure that we had ghosts in that house. How it changed my life:From that day on, I knew for sure that we had ghosts in our house. As a 10-year-old, it caused me to be fearful, but eventually (around the time I was 13 or 14) I began to get used to it--because I figured that worrying about it and being scared because of it wouldn't make it go away.
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