They say many New Orleans residences and buildings are haunted, but its a great place to create spine tingling stories that may or may not be true, but are somehow more believable in that locale. Well, I have my own ghost story (or at least a story that has yet to be explained) and whether people think I've made it up or not, I know it to be true and it still gives me the creeps.
When I was eighteen, I moved into a friend's house after his mother died. We also worked together at a Winn Dixie supermarket, so the arrangement was perfect. His brother lived out of state and he had this small two bedroom to himself, so why not? I ended up having his mother's old room, which not believing in haunted houses, I didn't care.
Things started out great. We were young, partied, and had lots of fun, but through those first few months, the normal "ghostly" things started happening; missing keys, doors being closed or opened, wierd sounds at night. Again, I didn't pay much attention to it; explaining it away.
Then, it happened. My friend left for work at 9 a.m. I was due in at Noon. Before I left, I got the mail and brought it to my room. I remember this like it happened yesterday. I had five envelopes and put them in a stack on the dresser. I got dressed, locked up, and went to work. My friend had a double shift. He did not leave work at all. When my shift was done and he was still there at work, I arrived back and went to my room not expecting to see the five envelopes spread several inches apart in a perfect semi-circle on the bed. I still get goosebumps thinking about it.
His brother was out of state and he had no other family. None of our friends had a key and I know he didn't go back home. There is no other way to explain it. Plus, I knew my friend and knew his reactions. So, was the house haunted? I personally believe so.