I don't believe in ghosts I tell people. And for one simple, logical reason.
When I was five my family moved to Richmond. My parents had a house built a ways away in the county. You had to go 5 minutes down the road to reach a four way intersection with a stop sign.
And I lived their comfortably for most of my childhood until I graduated from college and eventually found a job in the D.C. area.
I believe I was still in college when my parents told me a story. An old, unclaimed graveyard discovered while the property was being developed. An undertaker discretely dispatched to the property to remove the remains.
And my parents never said a word to either me or my sister until we were old enough to not be seriously creeped out.
Think about this. Let this sink in. I lived in a house built over top a graveyard. Perhaps my bedroom was over the hollowed ground that once housed remains.
If their are ghosts, they would have haunted the fuck out of me and my family. Seriously, they would have seriously fucked us up. Televisions turning on for no reason. Objects flying through the air. Marks appearing on our bodies while we slept. If their is any reason to haunt the living shit out of a family its when they build a fucking house over top your place of rest.
So that's why I don't believe in ghosts.