I was stopping at my aunties house in the isle of man once when i was younger.
One night i heard a child crying and thought it was my cousin.
I came out of my room and there was a young boy at the bottom of the corridor (not my cousin) at the top of the stairs.I went back into my room to get my dressing gown and when i came back out the crying had stopped and the boy had gone.
The morning after i mentioned my experience to my auntie who coolly said "oh yes he used to live here years ago,he died when he fell down the stairs".
I'll tell you i never went to stay again!! |