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Woman on Wheelchair

One of many ghost stories in my life. I grew up in a one hundred year old house. The woman who lived in my room was wheelchair bound and died in that room before we moved in. At night my clothes would move in the closet and I could hear a faint melody and smell perfume.

 I heard her talk to me and tell me about her life. She was friendly and I did not mind her but she told me about the man in my house he was not friendly and he caused a lot of bad stuff one night I was alone my parents were out and the kitchen door open then slammed shut and I went to look and this big black figure moved towards me he was saying I was his to control and he wanted something from me. 

At that point I began praying out loud and moving backwards I felt the woman from my room move through me and confront him and push him back. I moved out the following year. I never heard from the woman again or saw the man but my old house had cold rooms and warm rooms. Weird place to grow up

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