Way back, when I was a wee one, we used to live in a house that was haunted. Virtually every night, you could hear the sounds of someone walking up and down the hallway. Family photos would always wind up askew, if not fall off the wall entirely. The door to the master bedroom would occasionally slam shut (and locked) on it's own. One morning we woke up to find handprints going all the way up the wall to the ceiling, and this was on a 12-14' tall wall (vaulted ceiling.) My sister woke up one night to find her bedroom light on and her clock radio blaring full blast. For me, the scariest moment would have to have been waking up to the sound of heavy breathing in my room (I was 9 at the time), only we didn't have pets and as soon as I noticed it, I stopped breathing so it sure as hell wasn't me. We did eventually move, and our former neighbours told us that it supposedly got a lot worse after we left.

The thing of it is, the house didn't start out that way. My dad built the house, and he was hugely proud of it, but he had a lot of anger issues, and was quite abusive. As he was in the hospital, dying, he would regularly scream at my mom that she should be the one to die, and he should be the one to live. Everything that happened in that house only started after he passed away. I'm convinced that it was him, too angry to leave, doing his best to scare/intimidate us, taking out his rage in the only way he could.

Sorry guys for not publishing any stories for a while as summer break ended and I had a lot to do. So please forgive me. I try my best to publish at least one story a day.
And please bear with me. 😘
Peace ✌🏼️