When I was young we used to live near a graveyard. We were separated from it by a dip which had a main road, and we were just next to an intersection. I can't say anything supernatural happened there, more like bad luck. A man, my father who was with friends crashed right on that intersection on his motorbike. As people stopped to go help him, the man jumped up and started trying to claw at the dirt walls enclosing the sides of the road. As the onlookers watched trying to help and figure out what was wrong, they saw him start to burn with opaque flames. Somehow he'd gotten petrol inside his jacket and he burnt to death from the inside out. I'm not sure if the white cross at that intersection is still there, although now they've shut the intersection off. We moved soon after that.
Our next house was a nice place in a valley, semi-rural and looked like it had once been a farm with horse paddocks, old stables and a big shed. We had to live in the little cottage just next to the main house for some time until the previous owners moved out. The cottage was disgusting and hadn't been used for decades, we found the skin of a giant carpet python (who eluded us for years until we found it at the top of the toilet in the farm shed and called the local reptile removal group. The guy took one look and said "I think I'll need a bigger bag".) When we finally moved into the main house, we rented the cottage out to a nice couple we knew for a while. They'd lost a baby and had buried her in the cemetery we used to live opposite to. It was during this brief time that we found out a man had been creeping into our back garden for several times a week at night. Eventually the police tracked him down and found he had been using our garden to hide in to be able to stalk the woman of the couple.
It was after the renovations we began later that the slightly strange things started to happen. We hadn't quite realised how old the house was until we found a window within the inside walls of the bathroom. We guessed that perhaps the foundations of the house had been laid down at least since the early 1900s. Now, my new room was annoying. On top of the fact that my mum had decided I would have no privacy and got French doors installed in my room so you could see through the wide hallway and into the living room. The wide hallway didn't go very far, it just went to a dead end because my parents wanted to eventually build a second level and install some stairs there. My room was the coldest in the house. However, being in a valley it used to get very chilly, but my mother would always marvel at how my room would never heat up. I felt it had something to do with the "cold spot". If you sat on my bed, which faced the doorway, the area was in the upper right-hand corner. I found it weird because of all the spots to creep me out (except for my current house) I have always, always, had the room with the ceiling hole right above my bed. This corner, however, always felt to me as though there was a spider in its web watching me. It was unnerving.
Our place also came with a windmill. It stood in the front yard serving very little purpose except to make a horrible 'clack, clack, clack' sound all the time. My father was annoyed by it too so he got some rope and tied it up tightly. It never made a sound that is in the day at least. It was only during late night that you would hear it start to go 'clack, clack, clack' again even when there was no wind blowing.
One night I was up reading a book. Then something made me look up to the doors that let me see out to the hallway. I wasn't sure for a few seconds because nothing happened and then a woman ran past, dressed up in some Victorian get-up. She was followed by a man in mining gear. They both seemed to be laughing. I blinked my eyes wondering what just happened. I still don't know. But it wasn't until after that I got my mum to place some curtains over the glass. I hadn't realised until just now, but after the curtains were placed there I never actually did anything but sleep in my room then. I always played out in the other rooms of the house, perhaps because the "cold spot" made the room feel more confining than ever.
I also never really went near the windmill. I can't ever really remember touching it. So it also wasn't until a few years later I found a little plaque on the windmill saying that it hadn't actually been built on our property. It used to belong to a mining company out west and had been moved onto our property later on.
I'm still not sure about that house to this day. I'm relatively down-to-earth with explanations about strange events. I had even chalked up the scrabbling in the ceiling and walls to rats or possums playing with the rat poison pellets we put up there. The people I saw ran past were my imagination most probably. But, really I'm not sure. I've moved house around seven times in my life and definitely never had anything like that happen to me like at that house.
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