The

The Hello and welcome to me in the episode number 461 of real life ghost stories.

And I have two spooky stories for you today and the last story comes from the 17th of April

2025. And story number one comes from Zara.

I grew up in a very rural part of Meath in Ireland.

My parents moved down from Dublin with me and my older brother in 2000,

where they bought a tiny cottage home surrounded by fields,

with neighbours few and far between.

The house is built on an old famine road, and close to the Hill of Ward, a ring fort dating back to the Iron Age, and then became the site of many other medieval battles, meetings and festivals.

Many of the first ghostly encounters in this house I don't

remember myself, but are recounted by my parents often. Some of my favourite stories involve a young

ghost boy, about seven or eight years old that my parents named Hans, first name basis, on account

of his frequent visits.

My mom tells me of a story where my younger brother was just a newborn.

I was almost a year and a half old, down in the sitting room in my cot in front of the TV

while my mom was with my brother in the kitchen.

As she was working away on whatever task, she began to hear

me laugh from down the hall, not thinking much of it until she realised she could hear two voices

laughing at the TV. Realising this, she rushed down the hall to see who I was with, and only when

she falls through the door, does that second laugh stop with no trace

of its owner. How she didn't dispose of me immediately I will never understand. A couple of years

later, me and my two brothers are outside in the garden with my dad. My mom is rounding us up for

...