Like a lot of people, I've had my moments with the unexplained. My most teeth-chattering moments have happened when I was still quite young. First there was a haunted house we were doing up to move into because the rent was cheap, but it told us it didn't want us in no uncertain terms.
I'll never forget having to creep back in by day to get something I'd left behind in our rapid exit, after a whole roomful of us had been scared out of our wits by a window suddenly moving back and forth incredibly fast with no wind to drive it. By then we were well primed by the coldness, the creepy feel, and by the way lights kept going off and on every time you turned your back. The window was the last straw. It took a lot of courage to go back in, but my boom box (yes I'm that old) had been left behind and money was tight. In I went all alone just at sunset, and out I came like a sprinter! Brrr!
After that came a share house down near the beach. An old two-story that we called the doll's house because it was just an up-and-down box. It was the party house for all of our friends (and not so friends) because we were the first people our age to move out of home. Nearly every night the lounge-room floor was littered with drunk and/or stoned people who didn't want to go home. I was riding racehorses at the time, starting stupidly early, so I got the reputation for being a bit of dragon because I'd get up and come raging downstairs and kick them all out if they kept me awake for too long.
This night, though, all was peaceful downstairs as I crept down to go for a wee in the only toilet at the rear of the house. The moon shone in lines through the front horizontal blinds in the big window that fronted the lounge-room. There were the usual silent sleeping figures on couches and even floor, looking colourless in the stripes of moonlight. All was still. I tiptoed my way past them, and began to turn the corner to go to the rear of the house, and came to a sudden stop. In the opening that led from the front to back half of house, hanging from a beam, was another grey figure. It was sort of misty, shining in the moonlight, and it was very obviously a hanged person.
It was super scary, and I hightailed it back upstairs and never risked coming downstairs at night again. Later, what struck me was the strangeness of how the humans in the room were not aware of the ghost, and the ghost seemed equally unaware of the humans, as if it was just going through the motions, night after night, of replaying its own death.
It goes along with that theory I've heard that some ghosts are aware and some are merely memories of a traumatic event. The first was very aware of us. The second seemed oblivious.
Do you have a scary experience to tell? I'd love to hear it!