Seven years ago, my great-grandmother died. The night she died, her body was taken to the morgue. When my parents returned home, they decided to get some sleep, as it was already three in the morning.
We were just beginning to fall asleep when someone started knocking loudly on the front door (it's worth noting that we have two entrances to the house—the front and the back). My mother was already going to open it—who knows, maybe my grandmother had arrived (she lives just down the street). But my father stopped her:
"Wait, don't open it. I looked out the window; there's no one there. And the dog is sleeping by the door, not even moving."
Before he could finish speaking, someone started knocking on another door. And so on, one after another, several more times. Then everything went quiet.
The next morning, my grandmother said it was probably my great-grandmother's spirit. She said it was a good thing they didn't open the door, as she could have taken someone with her.
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