What Got Me Interested in this Subject in the First Place

[Sherrie]

So I was a very curious child growing up, and always getting into things that I shouldn't. When I was six years old, I was at my step-sister's grandmother's house in Wolfboro, NH. I had heard tales from my step-sister and the other children in the neighborhood that the house next door was haunted. It was an old abandoned colonial style house that we always used to play around, and none of the children were ever allowed inside of it.
One day my step-sister and I decided to go into the house for a look. We walked up the old creaky steps, and we noticed the spiderwebs hanging from the banister as we went. The stairs led up to a porch which included the front door and two picture windows. As we walked to the door, we noticed that this house hadn't been painted in some time, and the old paint chips were starting to stick to our bare feet. My step-sister opened the front door which led into the kitchen. We walked in and the door on the fridge began to bleed. That really scared me, but my step-sister dared me to go on. Apprehensively I took the lead. We walked down the hallway, and as we passed the bathroom, we both noticed the toliet flushing by itself. Then there was a loud noise coming from behind us. We turned, and there was what looked like a huge werewolf standing between us and the front door. We ran down the hall, till we got to stairs leading into the cellar. We ran into the cellar and climbed out through an open tiny window, that was just big enough for us to fit through.
Later on when I got older, I learned that the house was a fully functional fake haunted house. The owners of it had everything setup on timers, so that when you open the front door all these things would happen in sequence as you were walking through it. The fridge had many tiny holes poked in the doors, and with certain mechanisms, would squirt out fake blood, to make it look as though the fridge were bleeding. The toliet was on a timing device, and that werewolf was nothing more then a laytex and cardboard cutout. This house, known as Wally's House of Terror, was only open during the months right before Halloween.

So this is where I get my skeptic mind from. Whenever dealing with a haunting or the paranormal you must first see if whats going bump in the night isn't pipes in the walls, or mice in your attic.

After the Wally's House of Terror incident, I soon moved to Florida when I was ten. Into a real haunted house. When we originally moved in the real estate broker told my mom that a former resident had died in the house. It's state law in Florida when somebody dies on a piece of property, whether it's in a house or on a piece of land, through selling it, the next owners have to be aware of this fact.
It turns out the one of the previous owners was a nice young married couple with a five year old little boy. The five year old boy accidently died while playing in the walk-in closet off the dining room.
When I first moved in I got to pick which room I wanted, since there was three bedrooms. Of course my mom took the master bedroom, and I choose the smaller of the other two remaining rooms. Right from day one, I didn't like the feeling I got when I walked in to the bigger bedroom. It creeped me out. And as it turns out that was the little boys room. (I didn't learn this until I was a teenager) When I was around twelve my mom finally made me move into the bigger room so I would have more space. Until that point we had always noticed little things like no matter how hot it would be in the Florida heat with no AC, it would always be calmy-cold in that walk-in closet off the dinning room. And small things would sometimes go missing. Like putting down a cup after drinking from it in the kitchen, turning around for a second, and then it totally disappearing, only for you to find the cup in another room later on.
When I moved into that bigger room, things started getting weird. We had two cats, and my mom would say for me to keep my bedroom door open at night to let the cats come in to sleep with me. But for some reason I never could. When ever I'd leave my door cracked open for the cats I'd wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of the TV blaring in the living room. And me being sleepy eyed, I'd stumble from bed, wonder down the hall to the living room and once I got there everything would be off and silent. This went on for years. And when ever I'd have a friend spend the night, they'd complain of the same noises coming from the living room.
Later on in my teenage years, I'd always keep my door closed at night so I wouldn't hear the sounds, but then something else weird would happen. I'd get feeling of someone being in the room with me. Or I'd get the chills, or I'd feel as if someone was touching me on the shoulder, when I was trying to go to sleep. It didn't scare me, or creep me out any longer. I had been living with this for years and it was more of an annoyance then anything else. And it happened over the course for time, it didn't happen all at once. I'd just get restless, and turn over and tell whatever was in the room with me, to leave me alone, and that I was trying to sleep. And this when on till I was in my early twenties.
And I think I'll save the story of how I finally dealt with it, for another time...

So I'm curious what people think of these two stories....please do tell....