I still can't explain what happened that day...
This happened about 15 years ago, when I was 16 (I'm 31 now).
At the time, I spent most of my time at my girlfriend's house because things weren't great at home. She lived with her parents and her younger sister in an old presbytery that had been converted into a house.
One day, my girlfriend had gone to take her driving test. Her parents were both at work, but they told me I could stay at the house since I had nowhere else to go.
I was sitting in my girlfriend's bedroom doing homework when I suddenly heard an incredibly loud BANG from upstairs, followed by what sounded like something heavy scraping across the floor in her parents' bedroom.
My first thought was, "The dog's probably knocked something over."
I walked out of the bedroom and immediately saw both the dog and the cat asleep together in the living room.
That instantly made me uneasy.
Trying not to be a complete coward, I called the dog to come upstairs with me. He walked over to the staircase, sat down at the bottom... and flat-out refused to go any farther.
That was unusual because his bed was in the parents' bedroom, so he normally went upstairs all the time.
After standing there for what felt like forever, I finally forced myself to go up alone.
The entrance to the attic was through the parents' bedroom. Normally, that attic door was always closed.
This time, it was standing wide open.
I remember my legs literally shaking as I walked into the room.
I kept telling myself there had to be a logical explanation.
So I searched the attic.
Every corner.
Nothing.
Not a person. Not an animal. Nothing had fallen over. Nothing looked disturbed.
I figured maybe I'd imagined the noise, or maybe the old house had simply shifted like old wooden buildings sometimes do.
Feeling a little ridiculous, I turned around and headed back downstairs, leaving the attic door open behind me.
As I reached the bedroom door and was just about to leave...
SLAM!
The attic door behind me slammed shut with incredible force.
Not slowly.
Not as if it had drifted closed.
It sounded like someone had violently slammed it.
I didn't stick around to investigate.
I ran downstairs as fast as I could and stayed in the living room with the dog and the cat until my girlfriend came home.
I never told her what had happened because she was terrified of anything paranormal, and I didn't want to make it worse.
Later that evening, though, I told her mother.
She looked at me completely seriously and said that a lot of strange things had happened in that house over the years.
She also confirmed something that made the whole experience even stranger:
The attic door was normally kept locked.
Over the time I spent in that house, I experienced several things I found difficult to explain.
But this is the one event that has stayed with me all these years.
Even today, I still try to find a rational explanation for it.
For context, my girlfriend and I eventually broke up when we both left for university. We simply wanted to experience life independently. About a year later, her family moved out of the house.
I've never claimed this was paranormal.
Maybe there's a perfectly ordinary explanation that I just haven't thought of.
But after fifteen years...
I still don't know what happened that day.