This is exactly right.

What's that at the foot of my bed?

It's spooky and kooky. I'm pretty sure it's dead.

It's coming this way. Wait a minute. Hey, I'm Ghosted.

I'm Ross Hernandez.

Give me, please.

Hey, boo. It's me, Roz. And welcome to Ghosted by Roz Hernandez, the podcast where I talk to people that I like about the paranormal.

Deborah DiGiovanni is on this week. She's back. I'm obsessed. She's so funny. If you ever have the chance to see her do stand up, you must go back, listen to the last time she was on, too. We talk about mysteries, unsolved mysteries, today on the pod. And I just love it. It's so fun. Hey, let me read you a story. This is from one of you people, a listener story that was sent to my email. This one comes from Angelina, who writes, I was like 13 years old,

living in East Los Angeles in a one-bedroom apartment with my mom,

and at the time, three younger siblings.

The apartment was built in the 1920s.

We lived upstairs, and the stairs were right next to our door, followed by a long, squeaky hallway.

I was home with my siblings when someone started knocking on the door, so I go to answer it,

and no one's there. I closed the door and go back to what I was doing. Fifteen minutes later, someone starts knocking again.

So I go to answer it, no one is there once again.

And I go back to what I was doing.

About five minutes pass, and then there is a loud banging on the door.

I run to the door and no one is there.

Now I'm mad. So I stand there next to the door thinking that it's one of the neighborhood

kids messing with me. So I'm going to catch them. Right away, the banging starts. I quickly

swing the door open, step out, look down the stairs and hallway, and realize

if someone was going to run down the stairs or hallway, I would have heard them.

...