I've got a couple of stories that I really don't discuss much myself.

Mostly having to do with this apartment that my wife and I used to live in.

Some of it's very personal and some of it's because it gets into that, come on your

BS in me area, but I give you my word I'm not making any of this up.

It was the first place where we actually lived together.

This older apartment building nearly little five points in Atlanta, and this place was

freaking haunted as hell, like more so than anywhere else I think I've ever been in

my entire life.

They had a laundry room that was in the basement of the one of the old buildings, pretty

grungy so it was creepy in a yucky way more than anything.

There was this door that was sort of stuck partially open, that had been chained shut so

nobody could actually get into this sad room.

I think they used it to store landscaping equipment, but it was always cracked open.

One night I was doing clothes down there and I noticed something moving.

I thought it was probably a rat or a palmetto bug.

I looked over the door and there was an African American boy looking at me.

He kind of gasped and then turned around.

There wasn't anyone in the room and there were no other doors.

That freaked me out.

A couple of nights later I was down there and this girl was down there washing her clothes

when I was putting a load in, who made some small talk, you know, neighbor stuff.

I asked her if she had ever seen anything weird around the complex.

...