Not only am I frightened living in a haunted house, things seem to happen when I'm alone, but lately we heard things and my husband will look at me confused and say "What was that?" He'll go look but in the mean time, I'm thinking what it is too. It's unnerving, of course. Like I said, the man who built this house, Seth, died in one of the bedrooms upstairs. Back then people did not go to the hospital, they died at home. I think that is the new way of dying now, too. With hospices available, people rather living and dying at home.