My dad grew up in Indiana. One night, he was waiting for his twin to get home from a date. He sat in the darkness watching the fish in his illuminated aquarium. Through the water, he detected the figure of a woman sitting on the couch. She wore a blue velvet housecoat couch with slippers to match. He didn't want to make any noise because he was afraid if she looked at him she would vanish, or worse, attack. The woman though, was oblivious to my father; she was gazing out the window. A few minutes later, my dad's brother pulled into the driveway. The flash of the headlights made the woman vanish. They later discovered that a woman named Grace had lived in the house long before them. When she died, they had her funeral in the living room. My dad swears to me that this is true. So do my uncles.

Anonymous, KY