This is real ghost stories online.

When we think back on our first homes, meaning childhood homes, the homes that we grew up

in, or at least initially remember from childhood, there's a lot of feelings there, a lot of

thoughts.

It's a lot of becoming familiar with the world around us.

Sometimes when you dig back into those memories, you end up uncovering some pieces of that

time that you may have otherwise forgotten.

It's always intriguing to me as to why some of those pieces of the puzzle seem to be

often the distance just out of reach.

But then, if the right person or the right thought comes by, it brushes it back in and

suddenly it's all there.

The next story we hear about woman remembering her childhood home, play she grew up until

about the age of eight.

To remember it was very positive memories, very warm feelings, until she kind of digs

back a little bit further into those memories and realizes, well, yes, the family life was

positive, but there was something else to go now with that house, something in her

first room, something that inhabited that house, that had a very different take on

who's allowed to call it home.

Take a listen.

I had a great childhood.

I guess you could say it was one of those leave it to be for childhoods.

Nothing particularly crazy ever happened to me as a child that I can remember.

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