When my mother was 7, her mom died of intestinal complications, or something of the like. She says one night when she was asleep in bed, she woke up and saw her mother standing next to her bed, talking, but she couldn't hear a thing.
She often told this story to me throughout childhood and to be honest, I was too scared to believe in it.
One night when I was laying in bed, I heard something up in the attic. There's nothing up there though. Not even an object or anything. Yet it sounded like someone was up there throwing something around - a bucket, perhaps. I probably won't ever know. I dismissed it and left it go.
Later on in life, I still lived in that house and seen/heard very strange things. For one, I was sitting downstairs in the living room with my brother after my grandfather moved out from the side next door to us. And my mother was laying in bed (Her bed is in the front room, DOWNSTAIRS.) He and I were talking and suddenly, we heard footsteps. But nobody lived on the other side and nobody was upstairs - which is where the footsteps were coming from. My brother instructed me to stay downstairs while he went to check it out. He went upstairs and I did what he asked and remained on the couch. My mother has a very large mirror in her room that I happened to glance at while this was going on. In it, I saw a disfigured woman of sorts. I couldn't really tell exactly what it was. But it scared the daylights out of me. I ran upstairs to my brother, who was running out of the back room (the only room from which the attic can be accessed) and into his room, where he fell to the floor and claimed to be unable to move. Eventually, he got up and everything settled.
The next day, I sat at my computer and looked out the window, where I saw what appeared to be a star. But it was orange. Unmoving. I kept watching to see if it would move or anything, but nothing. I went to my brother's room and pointed it out to him - he seemed rather uninterested. When I went back to my room, peered out the window again, it was gone. Poof. Don't know where it went or what it was.
A few weeks ago when my mother was in the hospital, I sat over there with my brother and we kept hearing a strange clicking sound. He said that ever since that noise had started up, the stereo downstairs would turn itself on. I wasn't so sure I believed him, until that day when I was sitting there and it did indeed turn on by itself. The remote was all the way across the room out of our reach. He took a tape recorder and let it go while we sat there in silence for about an hour. When we played it back, we heard the strangest noises. Some things sounding like backwards gibberish. Others being the clicking increasing in volume and frequency.
Eventually, the clicking stopped and we never heard it again.
The day my grandmother died, I opted to go to school since it was in the final leg of my senior year and I didn't want to be cooped at home crying. I had a computer class at the end of the day. So, they keep these computers on all day and then in the last class of the day, those students get to shut them down. That was us. The other kids always went and waited by the door on the bell to ring, while I just say in front of my shut off computer. That day, was typical, I sat waiting for the bell. I looked to the clock and back at my reflection in the monitor, where I saw my grandmother's reflection as though she were standing right behind me, to my right with her hand on my shoulder. She was talking, but I didn't hear anything. I just watched for a moment and when I looked back and to the monitor again, the image was gone.
A couple months later, my sister and I were sitting in the house my grandmother used to live it, which has the same set up and a lot of her belongings as when she lived here. My sister and I were talking, when suddenly, the front door creaked open and a draft came through even though it was warm out. It reeked of her perfume. Which there was no more of because the leftovers when she passed had been given to my mother, who had used the rest of the tiny bottle a month or so before.
The touch lamp my grandma used to turn on/off in the front room, came on to the dim setting. My sister got up and turned it back off. While she was in the kitchen, it came back on. So I turned it off and that was that.
Every now and then, that touch lamp still comes on by itself.