Midnight has passed, and in the stillness of these hours, the hauntings are never silent.

This is Real Ghost Stories Online.

After midnight.

Some hauntings don't arrive with a whisper, some don't build slowly or politely.

Some announce themselves with a single moment,

a single night, so sharp and wrong that it scars the memory for decades. For her, it

began in the 1980s in the house she grew up in, a place that should have been ordinary. A place where

childhood should have taken shape gently. Instead,

it set the stage for something that would follow her for the rest of her life. She wasn't home

that night. Her uncle was. He'd agreed to watch the house while she was out, nothing unusual.

He was the type who didn't scare easily, older, practical, not one to jump at shadows.

But when she stepped through the front door later that evening, she found him standing stiff

in the middle of the living room, his face bone white and his hands visibly shaking.

The house looked ransacked, closets wide open, cabinet doors hanging unlatched,

every interior door ajar as though someone had rushed through each room flinging them open

with frantic abandon. The air felt stirred, disturbed as if whatever had moved through the house had just been there

moments before.

Her uncle pointed toward her bedroom with an expression she had never seen on him.

Pure, unfiltered fear.

He told her the phone had rung, and the moment it did, he heard someone sprinting, actual running

footsteps from the direction

of her bedroom.

...