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Years ago now, back when I was about eight or nine, my folks and I lived in this huge, weird, old house that was like right on the edge of this

small town in rural Pennsylvania. The local school districts also happened to be in the middle

of this big restructuring, so even though me and my little brother were only a couple of grades

apart, we went to different schools and took different buses. This meant I was the last person to leave the house every morning, but also the first person to get home every afternoon, since my school was much closer than his. But this also meant that it was also my job to make sure all the lights were off and all the doors were locked when I left

every morning to head off to school. So this one morning, I became aware of the fact that the

light was on in the basement and that the door was open. So before I left, I saw to it that the

light was off and the door was locked. Then later, when I got home that afternoon, I saw that the light was on and the door was open again.

I remember thinking I was losing my mind or something that I had totally just imagined locking it up.

I mean, I was pretty tired most mornings after staying up late playing Overwatch, so it wasn't

out of the question that I had just forgotten to do it. So I went over to turn off the light and

close the door. But when I got to the top of the basement staircase, I looked down to see that

there was a big, shadowy figure standing at the bottom. I freaked out,

slammed the door, and pushed a cabinet up against it, and then bolted to hide upstairs in my room.

For months, I didn't tell my family because I was positive that what I had seen was a ghost,

and I didn't think anyone would believe me. It was Halloween time. I was young

and dumb, and happened to have fostered a firm belief in the paranormal. Then about six months

...