I'm only sixteen years now, and I've noticed that the older I get, the less I can feel different things. I have many memories of what some would call odd, but I've never considered them odd. I have always missed my grandmother a lot, even though she died two years before I was born. I used to cry often, and say that I missed her, but mum didn't understand how I could miss someone I have never seen. Still I remember it often, that almost every night, I could feel someone sitting at the bedside; and once or twice I could see from the marks left on the bed, that someone really had been sitting there.
Also I know that there are some kind of spirits in my room. Every time I have changed bedrooms it has felt amazingly empty, until I call for company...dead company, that is. In one room I had problems, as some of them I didn't want there, refused to go away.
Since I started attending Boarding School, I know that all the spirits there are kind. I had a major crush on one of them, because he was always so charming, kind and funny. It didn't matter that I could'nt see him; for one's soul reflects more than one's looks. About half a year ago, he "went further," and I´m not sure what he meant by that; only that I know I will meet him again.
I cannot see ghosts, even though I have actually seen one. I once saw a shadowy figure leaning over a table, but I was much too young to take any notice.
Before my aunt died about 18 months ago, she had once said to me that she would haunt me for a time after she died, for we had often discussed matters such as death and ghosts. And so, after she died, I began hearing noises from upstairs, as she had lived in the same house (and her bedroom was right over mine). I had to ask her to find a way to communicate with me, that wouldn't scare everyone else in the house. And so, for a year she visited my dreams several times a week. One night I had a final dream in which she told me she was now leaving. I woke up crying and it was the first time after her death I really understood that she really was gone. The very next morning, I checked the date, and it was only one day short from one year of her burial.