When I was about six years old, we lived in a house that had been added on to many times, the front porch had been in-closed and made into the living room. On Saturday nights, we were aloud to stay up late and watch TV. The room that my older brothers and I slept in had an opening where a window was before the porch was built in; I always laid in bed and watched TV through that window.
My two brothers and my parents were sitting in the living room; we were all talking and watching TV. For some reason, I don’t know why I turned over, there in my door; just standing and staring at me was a man. I could just barely make him out, but it was a man, of course I screamed as loud as I could. My parents both ran into the room, followed by my brothers.
When I told them what I had seen, my mother laughed and told me not to worry, they had all seen him, that it was the ghost of a man who died in the doorway to that room. Telling me not to worry really didn’t help any; I crawled through the window and watched TV from the couch.
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