From Michael:

When I was 13 my mother and my father divorced. I went to live with my mother in a city not too far away from where I used to live. We moved into my great grandmother's house that she had given to my mother when she passed away. This house was directly across the street from my grandmother's house (my mom's mom).

Our first night there my mom told me a story about when my great grandmother had lived in the house. She said that my great grandmother used to see blood on the walls. It used to write "Arthur's House". My great grandmother would call across the street and tell my grandmother to come over until she fell asleep. We used to think she was just seeing things.

Well, upon doing some research, I found that my Great Grandmother was the original owner of the house so I had no worries - about the house being haunted by a previous owner named Arthur. That is, until we had lived there a few months.

The house was a little old and kinda tilted a bit, so we had to put wooden spatulas in between the cabinet handles to keep them from coming open. About once or twice a day one of us would walk into the kitchen to find the spatulas arranged on the counter left to right, biggest to smallest. All cabinets open and all drawers open. This really scared us.

My mother called for her brother, a priest , to come over and bless the house or something. He did (I believe only because we were so scared) as she requested. About two weeks went by and nothing happened. One day I came home from school and my mother was getting ready for work. I went into the living room to find our Mexican Amazon Parrot dead. His blood was on the floor and spelled "Arthur's House."

My mother quickly sold the house and it was torn down and another built on the same lot. Upon further investigation, I found that a man was going to buy the house before my great grandmother did. His name was Arthur. My great grandfather put in a larger bid than him on the house and the man committed suicide a week later. This was what the police had told us after my mother called the police when I found our parrot dead.

I am not sure if Arthur still haunts that spot, but I will never "Not" belive someone when they say, "I believe in ghosts".