I was in my room reading a book. I heard people talking downstairs, and at first thought that my parents had come home. I continued reading and the voices continued to drift upstairs. I decided to head downstairs for a snack, and when I walked down the steps, the voices abruptly stopped. Even more strange, no one was down there! I checked the garage, and the car was gone. Sure, I was freaked out, but more than that, I was curious. I made up a snack and then snuck to the top of the stairs to spy. The ghosts must've been on to me because that was the end of their conversation. A few days later, I heard a baby crying in the night. This time, I told my parents about it. They confessed that our house had a tragedy in its past: a fire killed an entire family there a hundred years ago. We decided to just deal with the hauntings, after all, they all seemed to be pretty harmless ghosts overall, just a bit noisy sometimes.

Anonymous, NJ