The day before the funeral, my mom and aunty were throwing a ball to me near his bedroom.  It went inside, but I wouldn’t go in.  My mom urged me to go get the ball, but I just shook my head and ran away.  Later I told them that I was afraid of the man by the closet.

That same day, my aunty was standing by the phone.  I walked up to her and pointed, “there’s that man again?"

My aunty looked, and nobody was there.  The next day, the fridge came open by itself.  There were a few more weird occurrences, and then after a few days, it all stopped.  I don’t remember any of it, but mom loves to tell me the story of grandpa’s ghost.