Growing up, for most of my childhood; I lived in Bellingham, Washington. From the history of my old home, it was originally a farm house in the early 1900's, and some parts have been reconstructed over the years or torn down. After that, it was a shared home(?) between teachers. Something interesting like that. Well, it started when I was around 10. I can remember distinctly, we had just moved in. There were two floors, and a mini door in which none could access below the staircase. It was an old, decaying house, and my parents saw potential in making it into something beautiful. The first week, maybe a month, would pass. I took the last room upstairs, and my parents set up a bunk bed for me. Laying in my bunkbed one night, as a child, I was excited about recent things happening. I wasn't able to sleep, I just kept thinking. Everyone was already asleep. I would hear the most audible, yet, raspy female voice say 'help me,' from the corner of the room (everyone I've told thinks it's a little cliche and fake. I don't blame them it sounds outlandish, but it freaked me the hell out.) I remember the feeling of just freezing in bed, paralyzed. I could barely make out a word, before my fight or flight instinct kick in-- being only a child, I booked it down the stairs in tears. I was sobbing and screaming, that woke my mother up. She would give me a hug and comfort me, and I would sleep with her for the rest of the night. Safe to say, I stopped sleeping in that room after that. People around me told me I had been delirious and was only imagining things, and as a kid that I had an active imagination. Sure, maybe I would've believed that, if the other experiences and nightmares didn't happen. That one experience kick-started other weird things happening in that home. It wasn't really malicious, though, honestly just creepy. Things started to go missing, and no one had touched those items. Missing items would however start arguments amongst my parents and I, it became a bit of a problem. Then, grandma would came to stay with us, she's pretty spiritual-- so we always take what she says with a grain of salt. But honestly; I think everyone including the cats, except dad, believed there was something there. Once Grandma came to stay with us, we kind of forgot about it, I was excited she was finally here. Very rarely do we ever see her and now she was staying with us, but time goes on. That would change when she decided to sleep in my old room, with my old bunk bed. The old bunk bed had been taken down by then. She would sleep in there, and waking up, she seemed unnerved. She said she felt someone punching or moving underneath the bed, pushing the bed up. Like a child's hands were pushing the bed up, and onto her back and someone was under the bed. I remember that my parents left her alone around the same time that happened, and, once we had come home, she claimed to 'cleanse' the house. For a while again, things were alright, like, no one was complaining about weird stuff. Eventually, Grandma left back home to Canada. Then started the nightmares. Since I felt safe enough to sleep up back in my old room, since she had 'cleansed' it, I went back to sleeping up there. I had nightmares of waking up in bed, paralyzed, as a girl stood over me. These dreams would happen over and over every time I slept up there. From then on, mostly, I'd sleep downstairs with my parents. I would still get other weird nightmares downstairs though. Well, nothing really changed, but it didn't necessarily get worse. Whatever it was, just came back every-time. Without Grandma living with us, we wanted to rent the space out. We did for a cheap price, and child version of me got to meet all the potential roommates. The first to stay with us was Kristina. Kristina had a son named Isaac, (I wish I could talk to Isaac and catch up with him, it's been years.) We became friends, well, me and Isaac did. Isaac felt really uncomfortable up there and I remember he would talk to me about feeling as if there was something watching him. He would always feel cold upstairs. I know Kristina felt the same. I remember me and Isaac were in the backyard playing, and there was literally half an acre to explore. We found bones in the yard. I never knew what kind of bones, probably animal bones, but we found a huge pile of bones. It was weird. A massive stockpile of animal bones in the same place in the backyard. We chalked it up to being a farm in the past. As for me, I picked back up on having nightmares throughout my childhood, and things eventually did ease out as I grew older. Things still went missing, though. We continued renting out the place, people came and went. They all felt strange too. Eventually, we moved out to live in an rv and travel the United States. We left the house to a woman named Brittney. I don't know if she ever felt anything there. She was young, in college, and she had a lot of trauma. We felt bad for her, my parents at least did. We gave our cat Piper as a gift.