Now, back to Real Ghost Stories Online, live.

Let's go to a letter.

This starts out, it says, it's hard to describe the feeling that settles over a home after a death.

You think the silence will be the worst part, the empty chair, the phone that no longer rings,

but what lingers is stranger than silence.

It's as if the walls remember, and sometimes it feels like the person you lost never really left.

That was what our family came to believe after my brother died.

For the first few weeks, we chalked it up to odd

moments to grief, sleepless nights, a door left a jar, maybe the furnace settling, but

a month after his funeral, the house began to act like it had a mind of its own. Just once or twice,

almost every night, three or four solid months, something was with us.

My oldest daughter felt it first. She worked the late shift, usually rolling in between 12, 30, and one in the

morning. She had a ritual, shower, TV on low, a blanket on the couch until sleep crept in. One night she shook me awake,

pale and shaking. Mom, she whispered, tell uncle we love him, but he needs to stop scaring us.

At first I thought she was having a bad dream, but she swore.

She was wide awake.

When the frame photos on the mantle began to tremble.

Not just a vibration.

She saw them move like an unseen hand, nudged them forward.

Terrified, she blurted out, Uncle, stop it now.

Just like that, it stopped. she told me there were other nights when she'd hear footsteps pacing the hallway measured deliberate almost heavy

she tried to ignore it thinking maybe it was the house cooling down until it got too loud to

...