Once upon a time, a long time ago, in a city named Groton, CT, I shared an apartment with my friend Jessica. I worked nights at the coffee shop while she worked days at a car dealership. I cooked, she cleaned. It worked well.
When we moved into the apartment, which was on the second floor, we knew we had a storage area in the basement but never went to check it out since all of our collective stuff fit into place just fine. All seven end tables and everything.(Hush. I have issues about decent furniture just left for dead.) We went down one day and found it still had things in there from the previous renter. Dusty cardboard boxes and a lone wheelchair. Deciding it was way too digustingly dirty to ever use, we never wandered down there again.
Living across the hall was a Korean or Chinese family. Their english was not so great so we didn't talk much. Downstairs from us was a coworker of mine Jen and her family. Across from her lived the drug dealing, loud morons.
About a month into the lease, we noticed some strangeness. She'd turn off the tv and leave the room and it would turn itself back on. It would randomly switch channels on us. The lights would flicker for no apparent reason. Yup. Another freaking ghost. It scared Jess a bit but I never felt anything negative from it. I soon learned that as long as I told it to knock it off it would and there would be no more disturbances at least for a few days. I spoke to the ghost plainly. "I can't understand what you need or want. I'm sorry I can't help you." The occurences lessened and lessened.
Jen, my coworker let me know that the woman who had lived there before us died in the apartment. Apparently she was old and easily confused and housebound. She never tried to do anything but let us know she was there. As soon as she was acknowledged the activity stopped.
Jen was experiencing some strange things in her place too. Her tv did the flipping channels thing too. We actually tried our remotes on each other's tvs just to make sure we weren't missing an obvious explanation. No go.
Nothing that seemed threatening happened until the drug dealing idiots moved in across the hall from Jen.
That month, Jen's son woke up screaming every night for two weeks and complained that "that man" kept staring at him. Jen's son was only 3 years old. Poor Jen was six months pregnant and dealing with a hysterical child every day.
Every time I walked in the door to the building I felt like I was being watched. I avoided the stairwell and entryway as much as I could. Often taking the stairs at a run so I would be away from whatever it was that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It got to the point where I dreaded having to go down the stairs and past their doorway. Once I swear it followed my to my car. I felt it's eyes on me until I had driven about a block away.
That craziness stopped after the druggie deadbeats were evicted three months later. When they left, so did whatever was with them.
Feel free to comment on my stories. And yes, I do have more ghost ones coming up.