Ok here is a story, back in 1997 at around 7:00 pm our family (5 of us) were sitting in the living room watching TV. The rest of the house was dark and there was obiously no one else there. Than all of a sudden we heard some dishes break in the kitchen right next to us. We went and check out what happened and all the dishes were perfectly fine, all of a sudden the whole kitchen started to smell like flowers and candles with no apparent reason. After that we heard someone slam the bathroom door, so I went and checked it and the door was wide open and handn't been moved. 3 minutes latter my aunt called to tell us that my grandmother had just died. Coincidence?
I have two wiccan internet friends I've known for several years. When they have their celebrations, I go along a little just to be friendly. So at Mabon, I got out a picture of my dad in full dress uniform (I had never put his picture on display before, he's been dead a long time), and I put a bowl of apples out. Then I hear in my head "That's fine, but what does a man have to do to get a drink around here?" so I was laughing to myself and considering going out to buy him a beer, but I had some Drambuie in the house and he drank that sometimes. So I went to the china cabinet to get the glass for Drambuie, and a battery operated fake candle light came on all by itself. I hadn't touched it and it was on a different shelf from the glass I had picked up. My floor sits on a cement slab so it wasn't vibration from my walking up to the china cabinet. I have a pair of those candles -- you screw the bulb in so the contacts on the batteries meet, and loosen the bulb when you want them off. There's no other way to turn the bulb on than to screw it in tighter.
When I was a little kid I often slept in the guest room of my grandparents house. That room always creeped me out even during the day. I always felt like I was being watched. I felt pressured to be well behaved however only in that room. Often I would stare in the mirror on the dresser across from the bed. I was convinced at the time that there was something on the bed when I looked in the mirror, but I never saw anything. I just felt like someone was in the room with me. The only time I felt comfortable in that room was when I was sick with the chickenpox.
Anyway, several years later after the house was long sold, I got into a conversation with my dad which led him to say that my grandfather's first wife died of cancer in that room on that very bed which I slept on as a small child. Before then I never knew about it. Now that's creepy!
So do I believe in ghosts? No, not really. Haha. I'm still open to the idea but I need more evidence.