And that's when the guy started showing up...

After the first terrifying incident, there were several others equally more and less terrifying. We had doors open and close, cabinets slam, objects move. We heard conversations that seemed as if they were in the next room. We would hear distinct voices, but could never quite make out what they were saying. And we sort of got used to it all.

One night after we had perhaps a bit too much to drink (ignore that mom...I never did anything of the sort) we came home and laid down some ground rules. We told the ghosts (we had determined that there was a man and a woman and after some asking around made the assumption that it was the original owners of the house) that the following rules must be adhered to strictly:

1. There would be no writing messages in the steam on the bathroom mirror
2. They were not allowed in the bathroom if we were in there
3. They were not allowed in our rooms if we were changing
4. And they were not, under any circumstances, to appear to us.

We fell into a fairly easy rhythm with our ghosty pals and they stuck to all the rules...as far as we know. We apparently didn't lay down any rules about their treatment of our friends and family though. Both a friend and Middle Sister saw a gentleman in the house and described him exactly the same without either of them knowing about the others encounter.

They were also excellent judges of character. If someone was in the house that they didn't like, they would begin slamming a particular door between the living room and hallway in earnest. They were never wrong.

The roommate and I got so used the the ghosts being around that they were just a fixture in the house. We would play games with them. There was a vase on our dining room table that they loved to move. We would walk through the room and it would be at the edge of the table, we'd move it back to the middle, come back through the room and it would be at the edge again. Good times.

Other than the first encounter, there was only one other time that I was truly afraid. Shortly before I moved out I was in the house alone. I was sitting on the couch reading and all of a sudden the cabinets in the kitchen started slamming out and closed and I heard a woman's screaming. The screaming got louder and louder and closer and closer until it was directly behind me. I turned to look (force of habit I guess), of course nothing was there, I started screaming back and ran out of the house. I didn't go back for a couple of days.

As a side crazy note, within minutes of me running out of the house Big Sister called and left a message on the machine saying that she felt like something was wrong and was I okay.

There were lots of other odd and crazy things, but that's main stuff. Though our friendship, well mine at least, with the ghosts ended when our house was robbed and they did nothing to stop it. Seems like that would have been an ideal time to pop up and make some noise...