I lived in an apartment back around 2012-2014. It was built on an old homestead where they said the bodies of a family were moved. There was one place in particular next to the office building for the complex that no one-and I mean no one-stepped on. The grass stayed perfect.

I had multiple encounters. I had a ghost cat. I had a child giggling at two in the morning. I had a guy who hummed on camera. I had something hit me in the head once when I first moved in. (Which kinda angered me, and once I threatened to “sage their *ss” never happened again…)

I ordered pizza pretty regularly. Most of the guys knew me. One time, I opened the door, the guy smiled and said, “hey-“

He swiftly looked behind me. He turned pale. He actually shivered a bit. “Are you alone?”

“Yeah?” I said, smiling because it was kind of a funny situation.

He shoved the pizza into my hands, I handed him the tip, and he left, running down the stairwell.

Honestly, at that point I was adjusted to the ghosts. I closed my door, turned, and said, “really, guys? Don’t do that.”