Ok here are the rest.

We used to live right across the street from the Disneyland Hotel, in some crappy gang infested apartments. Anyways, we had the last apartment that faced the street. One day out of nowhere, our sliding glass door shattered while we were all sitting at the table (right next to the door) eating breakfast. Nothing hit it, it just broke and shattered in towards us. Ghost? I have no idea what it was to tell you the truth but it scared the hell out of us!


When we lived in Anaheim on Rome street, we lived in a house that a man died in. His name was John, and he died from a heart attack I think. He built the house. His son, John the second, was our landlord. John, the dead one, didn't like kids too much so they said. He used to always sit in one place towards the front door, with his wheelchair and watch tv. That was his place to sit in the house. Well when we moved in we also put our tv there, in the same place, and every time you sat there you would feel breath on you, or it would get really cold. Well we moved the tv. Now this is the freaky thing. My sister was very young at the time, maybe around 4 or 5. She would sit in the back room playing barbies like most young girls. Well one day I went to walk into the room but stopped at the door when I heard her having a conversation with someone, only someone wasn't there. Yes kids do talk to imaginary people, but if you heard her, she was actually talking to someone. I listened for a few minutes trying to understand what she was saying...........oooh hands getting achy.......when I asked her who she was talking to. As soon as I asked her this the window in front os her shattered, and she replied, "I am talking to John, and he doesn't want us here". Nice eh? That guy was an a$$, even if he was dead. He used to turn off the lights on me while I was showering at night, and turn off and on my radio. We didn't let him bug us and eventually he stopped. Even though he was dead, he was still a jerk. His family seemed to think it was pretty funny though.