The old farmhouse house I lived in as a child was haunted. It was built above where the previous house had burned down, there were fatalities. My older brother and I shared a bunkbed upstairs. The stairs to go up there were old oak, and right beside where the stairs met the upstairs was this large walk in closet. The closet only had one source of light, a pull down that was towards the back of the closet. There was always this oppresive "feeling" that came from that closet. To this day almost all of my nightmares revolve around that one room.
One night I woke up needing to pee, so I was going to climb down from my bunk and go downstairs to the one bathroom in the house. It was at that moment that I heard it. The creaking of the closet door opening. I immediately froze in place and intently listened as I heard light footsteps come down the hall and into the bedroom. Hearing the sound come up to the bed I decided it must be my brother. I started rolling over to see what he was doing when I noticed that I could hear him slowly breathing under me, in his bed, asleep. What I saw was not my brother. A young girl that looked like moonlight stood at the head of the bed looking down at him intently. In a panic I grabbed my pillow, chunked it at her, and buried my head under the covers. At some point I managed to finally fall asleep. That morning I woke up to my pillow still on the floor and my bladder ready to explode.