The house I grew up in was definitely cursed. Nobody had ever died there as far as I know but when they built this house in the late seventies weird things started happening.

This is not a joke, they built the house they got it 75% completed and a tornado came through and tore it down.

So the builders got the insurance money and rebuilt it. And mysteriously it burned to the ground one day when it was 80% completed.

So the insurance people got the money and built it again and finished the house and a tornado came back through and tore it to the ground again.

And they got the insurance money for the third time and built the house for the fourth time and for the fourth time it stayed up.

My mom was not the first owner of the house she was the second owner, she had bought it after it was 10 years old or so.

A few years later my sister reported waking up seeing a brown haired woman all in white holding her feet down to the bed and just crying and crying and crying.

As far as me, the only thing that I ever noticed was one day I was in the basement doing laundry and I noticed a full grown man wearing a hat and a full fucking trench coat walk around behind the air conditioning unit and I freaked the fuck out ran after them yelling, “what the hell are you doing oh my fucking god” and they just dis a fucking peared.

But aside from these relatively innocuous weird events nothing really crazy or bad ever happened and it was just a sad but normal home to grow up in.