When I was a kid, we lived in a haunted house. Strange things happened all the time. For example, my dad and I were alone in the kitchen one day making a snack. We put a plate on the kitchen counter and walked away to the fridge. We got what we wanted out of the fridge, turned around to walk back to the counter and the plate flew off the kitchen counter and broke on the floor. My dad tried to calm me by saying the plate must have been blown off the counter, but let's face it: the plate wasn't near the edge of the counter, and there were no windows or doors open. No one else was home. Weeeiiiirrrd. I also woke up to an old lady standing by bed on more than one occasion. I told myself I was dreaming. This part might be dark, but here's the rest of the story: Years later, I looked up the address and found that an old couple lived there for many years right before we moved in. Apparently, the house was broken into and the old woman was raped and murdered. The old man sold the house and moved. We were the first occupants since the incident. WTF! We only lived there for about a year. My parents swear we moved so quickly because we got a better deal on another house nearby, but we know it was because the house was haunted and the priest they brought in to bless the place told them we should move. No joke!