I am 18 years old and have lived in the same house for all my life, I have noticed strange happenings for as long as I can remember. I live in a three storey house, and my bedroom is on the top floor, along with one other room which is directly across from my bedroom. When I was around 9 or 10 years old, there was one weekend that I could never forget, as some strange things happened then which I can't explain.
The first "event" happened on a Friday night as I was in bed trying to get to sleep. One side of my bed is pressed up against a wall, which is usually the side I face when trying to sleep. However, this one night I heard six knocks at my door. I thought nothing of it at the time, so I got up to open the door and expect to see my brother standing there, or hiding in the room across from me if he were playing a prank. He was about 12 or 13 at the time, and it wouldn't be unlike him to prank me. After not finding or hearing any trace of him, I went downstairs to his bedroom to ask if it was him that knocked on my door. He was near enough fast asleep, and he assured me that it wasn't him. I simply just went back to bed, feeling very confused, and nothing more happened that night.
Again, the following night (Saturday) I went to bed to try and get some sleep, facing the wall my bed was pressed up against. Soon enough I heard my door handle move and I also heard my door opening. I quickly turned around to see nothing there but my door wide open. So once again I check around for my brother and find nothing, so I go downstairs to see him to talk to him about it again. Just like the night before, he was half asleep, and he promised me he had nothing to do with it. I went to bed yet again feeling confused and a little scared, but I just tried to shrug it off.
The last "event" happened on the Sunday night, following what I've just explained. Once more, I was in bed ready to sleep, but this time I faced my closed bedroom door, keeping an eye on it for as long as I could stay awake. Soon enough I saw with my very own eyes, the door handle move downwards as if someone were trying to open the door, and then the door opened quickly. By this point I was terrified, and I was too afraid to move from my bed as I saw no one standing behind the door, leaving no explanation for what had just happened.
Additional information/experiences:
My family call the room across from mine the "play room", as it's a small room where my brother and I used to play with our toys. Many times as a child I'd be in the play room on my own, doing arts and crafts or playing with my toys, and I'd hear footsteps creeping up the stairs. Near enough every time I thought it was my brother trying to sneak up the stairs to make me jump, so I'd sneak round the corner quietly to try and beat him to it, but every time I did this there was never anyone on the stairs. As soon as I would look the footsteps would stop, only for them to start again when I went back to playing and minding my own business. I know these noises weren't caused by the house, as they sounded like footsteps, as they got louder the closer they got to me by ascending the stairs. I still occasionally hear these footsteps, and often get the sensation like I'm being watched as I walk up or down the stairs.
Thanks in advance to anyone with any advice, opinions, etc.
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If it helps, I grew up in Virginia (USA) and had a similar experience when I was in my early teens (it's hard to pinpoint just how old I was). The house I lived in wasn't terribly old but it was on ground that had been Powhatan (Native American) territory, had been significant during the first era of English colonization, had been part of one of the largest plantations in the area during the 18th&19thC, and had seen armies of two wars march across it - it was also where both of my grandparents had past away... So there was plenty of opportunity for energies to be tied to the property - add my parents' tumultuous and ever-disintegrating marriage and two teenage children into the blend to ignite and feed the potential activity... And I am honestly surprised we didn't experience more activity in that house! And I did have quite a few experiences growing up there (some of which I related in my story 'Coming to Say Goodbye').
If you'll excuse the rather in depth introduction above - the specific experience I had in that home, which relates most directly with yours happened when I was laying awake in bed late one evening. The way the house was laid out, the stairs to the second story faced you the moment you came through the front door - directly at the top of the stairs was my room, immediately to the right of the stairs (catty corner across from my door) was my brother's room and about twenty paces down at the other end of the hall was my mom's room, my father's room and the hall bathroom. That night, I had simply woken up at a weird hour - around 1AM - and lay there trying to fall back asleep when suddenly there was a firm knock at my closed bedroom door. First, I thought it was my brother, then I remembered he was away... No sooner had that thought dawned on me than the knock came again - three knocks in succession solidifying in my mind that this wasn't just a one-off normal house-creek sort of thing. Screwing up my courage before I'd the chance to think better of it, I jumped out of bed, raced across the room and flung open the door... My bravado instantly evaporated when I discovered a completely dark and seemingly empty hallway beyond. The darkness seemed to stare up at me from the hall corners and the pit of the stairwell. I was too scared to risk traversing that hallway to my mom's room so I jumped back in bed and shivered there until morning. I never slept with my door closed again after that.