About 3-4 years ago, I came home one day from school, OF COURSE, alone at a previous house we lived in. My sister usually comes home at the same time I do but she had to stay after for a project, and my parents and older brother were at work. I came in in the side door, which maybe 3-4 feet in front of it, is the door to the basement. SIDENOTE, the basement door opens maybe 30-40 degrees until it begins to scrape on the hardwood floor that welted up because of deformation. I went through the side door and DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF ME, I made sure to check that the basement door was shut, and it was. I continued through the right to the kitchen and grabbed a snack like I do every day. I went around the side and continued into the living room, sat on the corner of the couch next to the wall separating me from the staircase down to the basement. About a half hour later, maybe a bit more.. I swear on my damn life (and I never swear that great), I began to hear stomping up the basement staircase. (I have to take a few breaths typing this. This haunts me like it happened yesterday...) The way I can describe it is that it sounded as though my dad (who is 5'10", about 225lb muscle), wearing work boots, charging up the stairs as though he were angry enough to beat my ass. This stomping was aggressive and heavy, my eyes followed the wall were this "person" would be climbing the stairs. I was separated by drywall from this THING. I was frozen at this time. I couldn't move I was so terrified... I just followed the sound. As it reached the top of the staircase, I thought, "maybe I'm imagining this... But please for the love of all things sacred, DO NOT open that door..."

I heard the latch grab, twist, and the door swung open, scraped the hardwood welted floor, and the latch released... I was waiting to hear someone walk into the kitchen, but there was not a single footstep into the kitchen, OR back down into the basement. The basement staircase is solid, old wood, it creaked everywhere, anywhere on each step. I've tried to sneak down there one time and it creaked on maybe 90% of the steps... I was still frozen, staring at the doorway into the dining room, and nothing showed... Maybe a minute after the door was opened, I finally got up, and walked back into the kitchen. The basement door had to be opened to maybe 70-80 degrees... I was terrified to even touch it. But I walked over, checked downstairs, and NO ONE was down there. I shut the basement door and continued to the living room where I sat in horror, listening for any sound until someone came home...

If you call me a liar, I will call you a disrespectful troll. I would not waste my time coming up with something like this to amuse anyone. This happened to me and I can swear on my life that it did... I will never get it out of my head...