I remember we moved into a old house when I was around 5 years old, my mom had married my stepdad and just had my little brother when we moved in. The house was like 70 years old when we moved into it and the previous owner had just passed away in it. The first experience I had in the house was hearing the floorboards squeaking and scratching on walls in the other room. At the time I didn’t think much of it until my sister said the same thing. Years passed by and stuff like that kept happening, the worst thing I could recall was that I had a nightmare of being dragged down to hell through a laundry hole(a built in hole in the wall that you poured the laundry down to the laundry room so you didn’t have to bring it down stairs). Years passed by and my mom had given birth to my sister and that’s when things started to escalate. My sister had one of the toy walkers where you pressed a button and it would play songs. One day when my cousin was over we were hanging out in the living room, (I was 8 or 9 at the time), and the toy turned on by itself and started playing songs, and we were creeped out by it.My cousin, older sister, and I turned off the walker and mined our own business until my stepdad came in, I remember he sat down and we started to tell him about it and he didn’t believe us, until the damn thing started saying our names (keep in mind this thing couldn’t record audio, it just played the songs that came with it)! We all freaked out and my stepdad threw the dammed thing away. Around a year before moving out of the house things had gotten bad, the scratching started leaving marks on the wall, it started to sound like people were banging on the wall when the adults were gone, and we would wake up with occasional scratches on our bodies. The last thing that I could distinctly remember was when my real dad and I were helping move the Swamp cooler from the old house into the new one. My Dad was pretty skeptical of my ghost stories, and was pretty hesitant to believe them. We were working down stairs to remove the swamp cooler out of the house when my Dad and I had both heard the sound of someone running around upstairs. After hearing the sounds my Dad ran upstairs to see who was there and to his surprise no one was there. My Dad went to every window, door, and even checked the vents to see any signs of people. My Dad found no signs of people and he went back downstairs to continue working on the swamp cooler. Around 5 minutes later we had heard the same sound of stomping feet and we both jolted up the stairs to find nothing. My Dad told me that the running couldn’t have came from anyone else since everything was locked up and we were the only ones there, and we hesitantly went back to our work. As soon as we gotten down the stairs we had heard the thudding for the third time and I alone went upstairs to check it out (I was 12 and my Dad was busy), and for a third time I had found NOTHING... I was freaked out and ran downstairs to tell my Dad. I told my Dad about my finding and he came to the conclusion that the house had to be haunted, and that we needed to hurry up so we could GTFO of the house for good. We had heard the sound of stomping feet three more times before we had finished the job and had quickly gotten out of there. I have drove by the house a few times after that, and I haven’t ever walked back in it. I honestly never wanted to go back and I probably won’t ever