I grew up with a kid, Curt. Our houses were close together, and we played at each other's places a lot. The stories I could tell, and just might someday.
He died when he was 16. I dreamed about him several times after that, and in the dreams, he would tell me he was okay, that things were pretty good where he was. I didn't assume that he was visiting me from the Beyond, although it would be nice to think so. I figured that my grief and unhappiness was translating into this type of dream imagery.
Life moved on. Curt's dad died, and his mom and sister left their house for another place. Meanwhile, I left home, went to college, got a job, left the state, and would sometimes visit back home. It was on one of those visits when my parents hold me that Curt's ghost had been in the house. I was dubious, although my parents aren't really "that" type. My mom was a practical (more or less) Catholic, and my dad was agnostic, leaning toward the atheist side of it.
They said they would be upstairs, and would hear someone moving around downstairs, go to check it out, and nothing. Same thing, where they'd be downstairs and hear people noises upstairs. Now and then, they'd think they'd see a kid out of the corner of their eye, but when they turned to see, there was nothing.
That all would've been written off as just something curious, until they had a plumber come in to do some work. After the plumber had wrenched and fitted, he'd come to where they were sitting, waiting for him to get done.
"Who's the little blonde boy?" he asked them. They were suprised. No, there's no little blonde boy in the house, or not really in the neighborhood. "Sure, there is. Some little blonde boy ran through the room. I figured he was part of the house."
They didn't know what to make of this. Sometime later, they had Eleanor, Curt's mom, over for a visit. They were in the downstairs living room, talking about old days, and then they all heard what sounded like someone upstairs. They told Eleanor about their unexplained experience.
Eleanor lifted her head and called out, "Curt, you stop that right now!"
The noise stopped. They never heard it again, from then to the time that they moved out of the old house.
Now, none of this is my own personal experience. It's hearsay from my parents, who are long dead now, having sacrificed their lives in order to help keep the tobacco industry going, not that I'm resentful, but that's another story. And they didn't believe in psychics, they didn't subscribe to paranormal stuff, but they also couldn't explain what happened to them personally here except to say, "Curt's ghost."
Curt's sister was taken in by the story. To her, it was clear that Curt's spirit was looking for his family, but they'd moved away, so he went to the next closest place.
Me, I just accept the story at face value; something weird, something that's not explained well except by stretching rationality, and something that just might indicate there's more than what we know, or can know, about this world.
Whoops. I meant to put this in the "Unexplainable" thread. I guess it's fine here, but if a moderator chose to transfer it, I wouldn't object.
(this is not a face palm, he sprayed scrubbing bubbles in his eyes 
