Growing up I lived in an old historical house that sits on a hill within a local city park. It is a beautiful home, built in 1792, still has all the old fireplaces, all original wood plank floors, even has the spring fed reservoirs in the basment from it's earlier days of folks needing a water source and a place to keep their food chilled. It has a whole lot of history behind it, including being a makeshift hospital during the Civil War.
  There are 3 giant bedrooms, one of which had a narrow stairwell that lead down into the kitchen.
    When I turned 12, my sister and I swapped rooms and I ended up in the one with the stairwell.
   After a few nights of settling in I started to notice little things not being quite right. The lights would flicker or just turn themselves on and off, my radio would fade in and out to static frequently, when I'd wake up in the morning pictures would be off the wall and laying across the room. My cat was always staring down the stairs like he was watching someone.
     After about a month i started hearing quiet muffled whispers from the stairwell. I thought maybe my parents were in the kitchen and went down to see what was going on, when I opened the door, nobody was there, lights were still off, no indication of anyone having recently being in that room. That's when I felt the chill go up my spine, and what I can only describe as a cold breeze blow passed me. I ran back up into my bed as fast as my legs could take me and tried to pretend nothing ever happened. I continued to hear the whispers every few nights, but I learned to tune them out and eventually didn't even notice them anymore.
   Fast forward to the night after my 13th birthday. I was laying in bed doing some reading, when music suddenly started blasting from the radio, full volume. As I jumped up to turn it off, it switched over to static and I could hear what sounded almost like a low growl coming through, the room had turned ice cold, I was absolutely terrified, I closed my eyes and prayed for it to stop, and it did. Radio switched off, temperature went back to normal and I could relax.
   That same night as I was on the verge of falling asleep, I heard my dad walking up the stairs, I sat up to see what he needed and realized it wasn't him, it was a huge, slow moving black mass and it was headed straight for my bed, making what i can only describe as a gurgling sound. The room had become so cold again that I could see my breath, I had chills take over my entire body and I couldn't even move to turn on the light, it was like someone was holding me down. I could do nothing but stare at this thing that was getting closer and closer to me, it was moving in almost a fluid motion, like it was made of water. As it got closer I noticed loud whispering sounds were surrounding me, like someone was desperately trying to tell me something, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. It felt as though time were standing still as I tried to get a grip on reality. Finally after what felt like an hour I got ahold of myself and was able to flip my light on and yell for someone. As I called out, the room was returning to normal and by the time my sister came in the room it was gone.  But what she said to me was

"did you see it too?"

That's when I knew why she was willing to offer up the "good" room to me in the year prior.

Needless to say, she and I started sharing a room, however,  we soon learned the weird things were obviously not segregated to that one room.

But those stories are for another day.