Can someone post some more personal ghost stories since we have a whole week to wait till out next GH? I should clarify, anything to do with the para normal will suffice for me. I await the delivery of my book, " I Never Believed in Ghosts Until...." I purposely ordered it from B&N because they offer 3 day delivery!
I've got two stories.
When my ex was in the military, we were stationed in Germany and lived on the economy in a huge old house that had been converted into three apartments. As you entered the house through a locked door to the street (opened only with a key or by a buzzer/intercom in each apt), there was a stairway to the right and a hallway and apartment to the left. We were on the second floor. There was an apartment on the third floor and a locked attic door at the end of the flight of stairs on the fourth floor which was used for cleaning supply storage.
Everyone who lived there was in the military. This was during the problems with Libya and I was the only one in the whole building since they had all been sent out on an alert.
One night, I heard the front door at street level open and slam shut. I heard someone run up the steps and thought it was my ex but they kept on running at an extremely brisk (and loud) pace. I opened our door thinking it was our upstairs neighbor and I was going to ask her when everyone was coming back. I started up the stairs--still hearing the heavy running. These weren't a straight set of stairs but doubled back and forth throughout the floors so I couldn't see them as long as they remained a flight ahead of me. They passed the third floor apt, as well, and then I heard the attic door open and slam shut loudly.
By the time I got to the fourth floor, I saw that the attic door was closed with the big padlock still secured, and no one else was around.
That freaked me out a bit--I'd had other things happen but pretty much ignored them since it didn't seem malignant or could be explained away. Doors slamming with no windows open, things falling or not being where I remembered putting them, etc.
My second story involves my dad. DH and I were living in a townhouse with a basement, main floor, and a second floor. About two days after my dad passed away, I was upstairs in my bedroom, lying on the bed and reading. DH was in the basement which had an office area for him and he was working on the computer. No windows were open, neither of us was really moving in any way, no earthquakes reported.
Suddenly, I heard a really loud crash from the main floor. I ran downstairs, DH came upstairs--both of us thinking something had happened to the other.
We found a picture of my dad in the middle of the living room floor. This was a 8 1/2 x 11 picture in an antique frame. It had been on top of our entertainment center along with about 5 more framed photos for the last two years. None of the other pictures were disturbed. Since Dad's picture was in an antique frame, I'd placed it in the middle and well back from the edge.
I looked at DH and said, "Ummm....well, HELLO, Daddy."

DH said, "I think your dad was telling you goodbye." I think he was right. Plus, he'd always hated the picture I had up there and was always telling me to get it out of the living room where he had to see it.
