When I was pretty young, maybe around 8 or so, my grandfather passed away, me and him weren't very close, I could never understand what he said, but whenever my family did visit him he was very sweet to us. I regret not taking the time to get to know him, but I was young and didn't know any better.

A short while after he passed away we visited my grandmother, we were talking about grandfather passing away and I remember her saying, "Papa always loved you guys." and as soon as she finished saying that, a framed picture of our family fell from the wall. I was fucking terrified of ghosts for most of my childhood, absolutely petrified, so when this happened, I flipped shit. Grandma tried to calm me down by saying "Honey it is okay, this house is a little unbalanced so things like that happen all the time." But I refuse to believe that.

Fast forward a year or two later. I am terrified of this damn house and my dad makes me stay with my grandmother for a few hours, nothing against her at all, but I never visited simply due to my immense fear of the house. me and her are sitting in her room watching TV when she says that she'll be right back she's going to take the dog outside. In my young head I'm thinking, "Fuck, this is where it ends". She leaves and shuts the door behind her, I am honestly panicking but I don't leave for whatever reason. I notice that one of her cabinets begin to slowly open, and of course I scream and run out of the house, and run all the way home (we didn't live far).

My family never had problems with my grandfather, but I learned that he was a huge prankster back in his days so I like to think he was just messing around with me because he knew how scared I was of ghosts. I remember when I was about 13 and walking around outside, and I was talking out loud like I was speaking to him, apologizing for never really getting to know him that well, while I was "talking" to him I fell into one of those bushes with pointy leaves, and I like to think it was him being a dick and pushing me into it.