For my whole life, I have been well aware of the paranormal. I have had spirit encounters since before I can remember. Mostly just them playing tricks on me, but no communication. It is nothing new to occasionally hear footsteps in the house. I've seen several apparitions which were also seen by other people with me. One incident, in particular, has stayed with quite unlike any other, or shall I say, he stays with me.
When I was little, my grandmother would have me down, and I would sleep over at her house often. My own parents home was but a few hundred yards up the road, in the beautiful countryside, so I would just walk back and forth all of the time. I always loved staying with her. She was so kind to me, most of the time. After all, I am the baby of the family, her last grandson. Her house is nothing special - a 2 bedroom 1 bathroom 1,000ish square foot structure built in the traditional American style with studs, compound textured white ceilings, real pine wood paneling in the living room and den, and sheetrock in the rest of the house, covered with different types of flowery and patterned wallpaper. When you enter the house, you are greeted with a cozy carpeted living room that hasn't changed at all since the 1980's. I live here now, even though she passed on 4 years ago.
From the time I was a baby only a few months old, (yes I can remember back that far) I always had a strange feeling in my grandmothers house, day and night, when everything was quiet. The feeling was especially intense when I was alone, but I felt like I was never alone. This feeling got stronger when the house was dark, at night. So strong, in fact, that I would wake up in the middle of the night and stare directly into the kitchen, like someone was watching me. See, I always slept on the floor, and most of the time my grandmother would just let me throw down a few blankets in the living room, and sleep on the carpet, while she slept in her own bedroom.