My grandmother's house had a ghost guest my grandmother called Ethel Beth. I can't say Ethel Beth haunted the house, because I don't think she was trying to scare anyone. She was known to open windows during dinner and throw hats from closets. All the stories portrayed her as having fun with the living, but she still scared this little girl (especially when I had to spend the night!).
You know why she scared me? Because she could see and hear everything I did. There were no secrets with her. If she wanted to know, she could. How could I stop her?
I mean, if you were a ghost, wouldn't you peek at intimate moments? Listen in on secrets? What else is there to do?
Being a ghost has to be frustrating, though. Maybe it's a test for the spirit to see whether or not they deserve heaven, for those souls who are borderline. Do a good deed, go to heaven. But how do you do a good deed if no one can see you? Maybe that's the test!
Do you believe in ghosts? If so, why do you think they exist?