I grew up in an old Victorian house here in the northeastern US. It was freaky in the way that those old 50's horror flicks were. Dark, shadowy and with a full compliment of hard to explain noises. However, despite my being afraid of the dark because of that house, I've never really believed in ghosts. Until I was about 22. I was home for a while from school when the family cat of 18 years passed. It was the winter, but, it was very warm that year (60's in February). This meant that I was able to bury the cat in the yard as the soil was soft enough. The night after doing so, I was walking through the upstairs hallway after having taken a shower when I looked down the staircase to see a pair of small, cat like eyes glimmering back at me the way that those of a cat would. There was no cat in the house then. The eyes, which after a second of allowing my eyes to adapt to the dim light, were with a cat's body. 'She' then turned and walked away. I had seen shadows all my life growing up there, but, that cemented my belief.
E tu?
E tu?