Haunted House A True Story of Unexplained Noises and Ghostly Presence

When I was younger, my family lived in a spacious house in a community. Despite the space, I always felt like there was someone else in the house with me. I couldn’t see them, but I could feel their presence. This feeling was so unsettling that I preferred to live with my grandma since the first year of middle school.

The house had a square-shaped kitchen to the left of the entrance and the living room on the right. A hallway connected these two rooms and led to three bedrooms and a washroom. In the living room, there was a display cabinet that held various statues and figures of Buddhas, and an old television was placed next to the wall. The sound of the TV switch was always clear and crisp.

One night, I was struggling to sleep when I heard a loud noise coming from the living room. It was around three or four in the morning, and everything was quiet, making the sound even more jarring. I heard the television make noise, and it was loud. I was startled, but the sound disappeared as quickly as it had come. I was sure it was the television, but I didn’t hear any sound of the TV switch being turned on and off.

I told my mom about what I had heard that night, but she didn’t pay any attention to it. Several years after we moved out of that house, my mom revealed to me that she had experienced something strange too. She recounted waking up in the middle of the night, hearing a noise from the living room, as if spoons or something had fallen off to the floor. She and my father went to investigate but found nothing out of the ordinary.

The next morning, my mom discovered a piece of glass that she thought might have been the cause of the noise from the previous night. She realized that it was probably a part of the ceiling lamp, but that didn’t make sense since it was installed and shouldn’t have fallen out on its own.

After we moved out of that house, I returned one night after a party. As I stood in front of the house, looking at the window, I felt a sense of dread wash over me. The feeling was familiar, but I couldn’t explain it. It was like the ghost of the house was still there, waiting for someone to come back.

Years have passed since I lived in that house, but the memories still haunt me. I never found out what caused those strange occurrences, but I know that I’m not the only one who experienced them. Perhaps the spirit of someone who used to live in the house still lingers there, waiting for someone to acknowledge its presence.