My one and only sighting of a ghost took place in my 1910 house in Hobart, Tasmania, approximately three and a half years ago. For a while, I felt a strong presence in the house, so strong it caused me distress.
I am Catholic and was saying grace before my husband and I sat down to eat one evening in June. I was standing before the stove and my husband was in the bathroom, washing his hands. As I was crossing myself, I thought I heard my husband enter and approach me.
I opened my eyes and, about a foot from my face, I saw a young man smiling at me as you might smile at a child. His eyes were mischievous and his head was turned toward me, his lips pursed in a tease. I screamed in shock and he popped like a bubble and disappeared. My husband heard me cry out.
For about a year, I wouldn't talk to anyone about it, but eventually I was at dinner, sitting next to the previous owner of the house, and he told me that a young man, Carl, had rented the house about 30 years before and had been run over down the road. I imitated my apparition's stance and my dinner partner said that was exactly how Carl had played with the children thereabouts.
I never felt a presence in the house again.
