Two houses ago I lived with a ghost. Maybe two.
My sister saw a sailor looking guy at the foot of her bed once when she was visiting. He never came to visit me.
The one who visited me was a young girl.
She was dressed in antebellum, sort of plain, almost peasant clothing.
She did not scare me ever. She never conveyed any message to me.
I never got to know why she was there.
She visited me about three or four times during the almost 20 years we lived in that house.
The first time I woke up to see her gliding down the hallway and into the bedroom. She just stood there and looked at me. I sat up. She went back down the hall. Backwards.
Her next two visits were similar.
I talked about her to a few select people and they asked me questions about her so I decided to be very alert the next time she came, if she did.
The next visit, she was standing beside my bed. She must have awakened me somehow because I was suddenly completely awake.
I looked her over carefully. I realized that I could not see the things on the wall behind her. I couldn’t see through her,
I asked her what she wanted or needed. She didn’t say anything, but somehow I knew that . She was calm and happy. She didn’t smile or have any other facial expression. I couldn’t tell you what she looked like.
We moved to a different house. She didn’t follow us. There were no ghosts living in the new house, darn it.
We lived there for 18 years.
This house? Should have a ghost or two, but I haven’t seen her-him.
I am not crazy. (Some might dispute this)
Hey, I have a master’s degree!