I'm an expert in Final Fantasy (1-9 & Tactics), Lost, movies, and ancient history.
ON paper I only have a grade 9 education, I learned most of what I know on my own.
I'm an Ares and my birthday has landed on Easter Sunday more than once.
When I was a boy, around 8 or 9, I lived in an old house out on what they call the halfway road which leads out of town onto the highway past a small sub-division. That house had belonged to an old Sea Captain who died there. Now when we moved in, some of his stuff was still in the house, like his rocking chair. My mother kept the rocking chair at the head of our kitchen table because it was old, but in nice shape and she liked it.
Now this is a true story, I swear to god on my grandfather's graves, not only has my mother acknowledged that it happened, but I have very vague memories of it.
On several occasions, my mother would wake up during the night and hear my voice. So she would get up to investigate. I wasn't in my bed, so she'd follow my voice to the kitchen, where she found me sitting at the table and the rocking chair at the other end would be gently swaying back and forth for a few seconds before stopping after she arrived.
Now I have VERY faint memories of talking to this man. Don't remember what we talked about, how many times we talked, but I remember what he looked like, and I remember it was more than once.
It wasn't long before that rocking chair was stuffed away in the attic and not long after that when we moved out.
True story, I kid you not. I have had a first hand ghost experience.