The house felt colder than usual

This happened to my dad. His name is Mike.

One evening, he was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner. The house felt colder than usual, even though it was late summer. He glanced at the thermostat—it was fine. Strange. He called out to me, asking me to turn on the fireplace.

I was upstairs in my room, listening to music with my headphones on. I didn’t hear him at first. But the fire came on anyway.

Dad, thinking I had done it, muttered a quick “Thanks” and went back to cooking. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone walk past the kitchen doorway. A tall figure, moving just fast enough that he couldn’t make out the face.

He assumed it was me. “Hey, can you come here for a sec?” he called.

No answer.

A few seconds later, he called my name again, louder this time.

I finally heard him over my music and walked out to the stair railing. “Yeah?”

Dad looked at me, confused. “Weren’t you just downstairs?”

I shook my head. “No, I’ve been up here the whole time.”

The blood drained from his face. “But I just saw you… or someone… walk past the kitchen.”

A chill ran down my spine.

Then, we both realized something. I hadn’t turned on the fire.

We didn’t talk about it much after that night, but strange things kept happening. Lights flickering. The TV turning on by itself. And worse—small dead animals appearing around the house, right on the front steps. Like something was leaving them there.

Dad doesn’t believe in ghosts. But now, he won’t stay up late alone anymore.