There's an old age debate about whether ghosts truly exist or not. None of us will ever know, not 100%, but even so, I'm a believer.
I'm not sure when I started to believe in ghosts or if I always have. Surely we're not born believing, somewhere along the line we've heard stories and come to our own conclusions. For me personally, I think my belief comes from experience rather than suspicion.
Apparently when I was a young girl, I used to talk to people who weren't there. Maybe they were imaginary friends, maybe not. My Mum says I used to stare straight through her sometimes, as if I were looking at something else. It would make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and force her to look around the room to see if we were actually alone.
I alway remember the stories my Mum told me about a ghost she'd seen when she was younger. It was a woman with long jet black hair, a floor length fur cot and long red nails.
Anyone could put this down to an over active imagination. If I'd never had my own experience then I probably would have too.
The main 'ghostly' experience I ever had was when I was 14/15. I was in my bedroom, which was at the back of the house, watching tv. I could hear my sister walking about outside my door, then I heard the bathroom door open and close. I went out to see if she was okay (baring in mind she was only about 9). The footsteps continued and seemed to get louder but stopped as soon as I opened my bedroom door. The landing light was on and the bathroom door was closed. I walked to my sisters room and was confused when I saw her on her top bunk fast asleep. I remember whispering to her to see if she was awake. When I got no answer I shrugged it off and headed back to my own room. Except it wasn't the way I had left it. My bedroom light had been turned on and my tv turned off. My duvet was on the floor and the television screen was doing weird things. It had gone a light grey colour but I could see black figures moving around in it.
My reaction was normal, I screamed and ran downstairs to my Mum crying terrified. At first she tried to console me and tell me I was imagining it, but I was old enough to know that wasn't true.
Eventually she admitted to me something I will never forget. Before we moved into the house, a man named Roy had died. In my bedroom. In the exact same place my bed was.
Sure this could all be coincidence, but following that, strange things continued to happen. There were Footsteps on the stairs and landing all the time. Doors opened and closed by themselves, the volume on the tv would go up and down along with the channels changing. One time I was stood in the shower and slipped reaching for the shampoo. All of a sudden I was flung backwards with that much force I landed on my bum. If I had actually continued falling forward I would have hit my head on the taps and probably knocked myself out. My brother experienced the same thing.
Things continued that way for a while until my Mum decided to have the house blessed by a vicar. Apparently he could feel someone in the house that didn't want to leave. The blessing didn't work.
We also had Roys family members come round because they were amazed at what was happening in the house.
Since moving out of my Mums I haven't felt anything at all. My Mum would joke that she wouldn't be surprised if Roy followed me. There was nothing scary about Turney Street, even though the house was over 150 years old and was huge. I never felt scared there. Same with the new house, although there are some strange noises sometimes.
Ross and I were lying in bed when I could hear a loud scratching noise. As soon as I woke him up to ask if he had heard it, it stopped. A few minutes later there was an almighty crash that came from our wardrobe and we both shot upright. On inspection there was nothing in the wardrobe. Neither of us slept well that night.
The other night whilst we were downstairs getting ready for bed, there were loud bangs coming from upstairs. It sounded like someone was running around or playing. The only person upstairs was Princess so we went to check that she hadn't woken up and was looking for us. Sure enough, Princess was fast asleep in bed. There were no more bangs, until we both came back downstairs.
For some reason, I don't get freaked out by it anymore. Strange noises and occurrences became normal for me when I was a teenager so I soon became aware enough to ignore them. If I were alone in the house at night time then that might be a different story, but for now I suppose I will just have to deal with it.
A lot of people don't believe in ghosts, and thats fair enough. I don't expect anyone to believe me, but I know what I've seen and heard. There may well be reasonable excuses for all of them but until someone can explain it to me, I remain believing in ghosts.
And for those of you who don't believe, I will pay you to stay at my Great Aunties house for a night and still say ghosts don't exist.
It used to be an orphanage in the early 1800's!