We received the following report from one of our readers in May 2010:
"I am not "ghost friendly," as you put it. Regardless, I live in a house on Sorauren Ave. in Toronto that went through something about six years ago that I can only call "a haunting."
Our bedroom is on the third floor of solid old semi-detached home that dates from the 1920s. I work nights, and my wife would often complain to me about footsteps coming up the stairs to our bedroom during nights I was at work. I never took her particularly seriously. Old houses make funny noises, and ours wasn't any different.
Then of course one night it happened to me. The footsteps were so clear, so solid, that I jumped out of bed and grabbed a lamp to coldcock the intruder.
When I stepped out into the narrow landing, no one was there.
Even that didn't convince me. Then the breathing started.
My wife and I would lie in bed together, listening as the room filled with the sound of steady breathing. It went on for months, almost nightly. It would come from different parts of our small room, one corner, then the other. Winter and summer. I checked for branches scraping against the side of the house. Wires gently soughing in the breeze. We listened with the windows open, and the with the windows closed. Five years later, I still have no reasonable explanation for this.
The breathing would continue, sometimes for an hour, and then stop. It became so routine, eventually we could both fall asleep, even as the ghostly breathing continued.
Then it stopped. I can't say when, exactly, but it was around the same time as we got our first dog.
Our house has been quiet for six years now, but I still get the shivers when I think about that breathing."