Hello and welcome to a mini episode 70 of Real Life Gold Stories.

How you do? I have six lovely list of stories for you today and the last story came from

I think the 30th of June 2020. Are you ready? Never ready.

And story number one comes from Andy. I live in a small village outside of Nottingham,

Q the Robin Hood references. My house is relatively old I'd say 1970s but my parents bought it in

the late 90s for their growing family. It would make sense that it would be haunted considering

the previous owner told my mother that her husband had died in the house. A few years after

they moved in my dad died in a car accident. What a great start to your new family life,

no? Anyway, I've never felt inherently scared of my house. It doesn't have the negative vibes

that people associate with a haunting. It's always been warm, comforting and homely but

some freaky stuff has happened over the years. When I was a baby I was put in the tiny box

room. It's pink and light but faces my neighbor's brick wall side of the house so it gets very

little direct sunlight. There's also built in wardrobes which may be a cause of the room

feeling more enclosed. As I got older I hated that room. I moved out of it when I was 10

as one of my sisters moved out. It just felt heavy in there. My brother's ex-girlfriend

also told me she felt the same about that room. When I told my middle sister one day about

how I felt about the room, she told me that when I was a baby she would babysit. I would

scream and cry in that room until she picked me up and took me to my mom's room where

I would stop crying and fall promptly to sleep just to wake up and scream if I was put

back into my own bed. Most of the activity seemed to center around my older sister. In

one of the first experiences she had she came running down the stairs asking if any of

us had moved her small ivory jewellery box from her desk. She turned the room upside down

...