When I was five years old, my granny died (on my dad's side). We went to England shortly after for her funeral. I wailed the whole way through. A few nights later, I slept alone in a room which I later found out Granny had died in. I woke up at around two in the morning breathing heavily. I was scared. I smelled Granny's favorite perfume in the air, which hadn't been there before. Out of the corner of my eye, something moved. I jumped. I looked towards the closet. There was somethign moving in there, and I was scared shitless. I looked a little closer, and there was my Granny's favorite Christmas dress, waving around. Except it wasn't pale pink. It was white. I bit my blanket, and whispered, "Hello?" The image disappeared. A huge rush of fear bolted into me, and i passed out right there and then. I woke up, who knows when, and ran to my parents room screaming.