So this is kinda hazy - 15 years on but im recollecting it just as I remember. So when I was 17 by beloved Grandad died, he died in April 2006. In the same year my parents went on holiday for 2 weeks leaving me to watch the house. I had a boyfriend who basically moved in for the fortnight as well as my (third wheel) best friend. The first week was kinda inconspicuous but there was kinda odd stuff - I’d hear noises in the kitchen when we were sat eating our dinner which would make us all just stop look at eachother then carry on.
One night, me and my boyfriend went to bed and left my best friend downstairs with a guy who she was kinda seeing. I assume things were getting hot and heavy. Five minutes after going to sleep I got awoke with a huge bang downstairs, I rushed downstairs to see the two candle holders that were wedged on to a nail on the wall had both fell off simultaneously. This freaked me out, my grandad was proper old school, two kids getting it on in someone else’s house would’ve been so disrespectful to him. Anyway, I calmed down, called my aunty (grandads daughter) told her everything & how scared i was, she came up to check on house.
Week after I invited a few friends around for a little drink. They all knew all stuff that had been happening, noises, flashing lights, candles dropping but still came round regardless. Anyway, I left the house briefly to go and meet another friend to walk back to mine. Upon returning everyone was subdued - acting weird. I asked my best friend what was up, she said a wine bottle had been hurled straight from the empty dining room to the back garden & smashed in the middle of everyone. There was no one in the dining room & my friends aren’t holes they’re not the ones to do stuff like this. I was obviously distraught at this point and asked everyone to leave and my best friend said they didn’t want to tell me as they know how I’m edge id been all week. I let my aunty know - the day after I went to my grandads grave and asked him to stop as he was really scaring me. It was a awful fortnight in retrospect.
Few years prior - before my grandads passing I was downstairs watch a PPV main event. Got myself comfy for the night - snacks & duvet. It was about one hour in & I heard the loudest heavy breath coming from the dining room adjacent to me. I bucked it upstairs at the speed of lightening. I woke my dad up and told him, asked him to go and get my duvet, so he did. Five minutes later there was an almighty thud and the grandfather clock on the wall fell off. 10 years it had been on the wall. Fast forward to now and my mum who is the most sceptical person says she’s woke up a few times to a feeling of the quilts being pulled from her and to wake up and they have been.