Luckily the ghost that lived in my childhood home was a relative. Otherwise, I might have grown up afraid of things that go shuffle and stroke in the night. I remember as a little girl, any time there was a bump upstairs or a creak in the other room, someone in the family would reassure me that it was just Aunt Jesse. I knew her as the explanation for any time my door opened of its own volition or every time I was awakened by a late night loving touch with nothing present to account for it except for the seat mark on my bed next to me.
Empires Will Fall 