Houses don't have to be old and creepy to be haunted.
Back in the 1980s, I was stationed at the Marine Corps Air Station in Iwakuni, Japan. The base had just built a brand new housing area for its married personnel and my wife, and three children were among the very first families to move in.
It wasn't long after we settled in that we started to experience some strange and unexplained events. My oldest son, who was just three at the time, was the first to notice something in the house. He would often go to my wife and grab her around her legs, not wanting to let go; and often crying as he did.
Then one night, in the middle of winter, my wife and I had a strong verbal argument about some trivial matter and, being upset and angry, I went downstairs to sleep. Being the middle of winter it was cold in the house, so I took some blankets with me and huddled up next to the baseboards on the kitchen floor, where the heater vents were located.
Some time after settling in I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I was sure it was my wife because it sounded like light footsteps in bare feet. I heard the footsteps as they reached the bottom of the stairs then make their way down the hallway to the living room.
I was sure my wife was trying to find me, maybe to apologize for the argument we had earlier.
After several minutes, I heard the doorway to the kitchen swing open, and I waited, expecting my wife to say something. When perhaps a minute or so passed, I poked my head out from under the blankets but she wasn't there.
I didn't know what to make of it, so I went upstairs to the bedroom to see if she wanted something.
As I entered the bedroom, my wife, who was awake, asked me "What do you want now?"
"What do you mean, 'what do I want now? '" I asked her.
She sat up in bed, looked at me and said, "Didn’t you come up here just about five minutes ago?"
I told her it wasn't me. Needless to say, we made up for the earlier argument, and I spent that night in bed, with my wife, where I belonged.
STORY CREDIT: JOSE |INDIANA.