3 Ghost Homie.

**Pov of someone telling a story**

My house was built in the early 1900s. It's a single-family home, it has a wood frame setting on a concrete block foundation. I've been living here for a total of 12 years. My siblings and I have seen and heard many weird things in this house but this one is my favorite. This happened to my brother.

10 years ago my brother and his best friends decided to start a garage band playing mostly what they call "Spanish Rock". His friends could only get together on Sunday afternoons. They practiced in the morning and called it quits usually at 7 pm. This was when I showed up and went to bed, I worked the graveyard shift.

This happened in the late fall and the days were short, they had just finished a session when they decided to someone else house. My brother gave his keys to his friend so they could load the equipment in. Everyone had "filed" out of the basement, but the thing was that they needed to walk all the way to the back of the basement, up the back stairs, through the kitchen doorway, down the hall into the living room, and finally out on to the front porch.

Everyone was sitting in my brother's truck waiting for him. My brother was walking up the back stairs when he remembered he left his food in a container sitting on a speaker all the way in the basement.

He decided to go back. Now you see the basement isn't really clean, with full sightlines, there had been partitions made, and the boiler and main heating unit are right smack in the middle.

So after my brother walks back, he's about to get the food when out of the corner of his eye

he sees "it".

It's a shadowy figure, right in his peripheral vision the feeling of dread and uneasiness washed over him. You see we had been taught that if we ever were in the presence of a spirit and we felt a bad vibe, to either say a prayer or for some reason to cuss at it. My brother well... he chose the latter, he outright just told it to "Go f**k yourself, buddy".

My brother started walking to the back of the basement and up the stairs, closing the doors and turning the lights off as he walked out. The last light switch is on the opposite side of the front door, luckily for him the door was open and the light from the streetlamp was lighting up the living room with its light. My brother told me that at that point he felt something at his back and never did he turn around after that. He flicked the last light switch and the house went dark. He closed the door, still holding the food container and jogged down the doorsteps. As he closed the gap between himself and his friends he for some reason smiled and thought about what had just happened, mad for spooking himself when there was no reason to.

He got into the truck ready to drive off when his friend asked, "Hey isn't your brother coming with us?" My brother curious answered, "What do you mean? He went to work early tonight, he's already gone."

The next question he was asked was, "So then who was behind you when you were leaving the house?"

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