In 1979, just as my Orioles were making a move on the American League pennant, my family moved from Bel Air, MD to State College, PA since my dad took a job as a professor at Penn State. I was 9 years old and miserable.  Here my team was pushing for a pennant, and we left just as the season was concluding.  I left my friends, the only house I had known, everything that was comfortable and known... and ended up right in the middle of Pittsburgh Pirates country.  It was only small consolation when my new teacher asked the class who was rooting for the Orioles in the World Series and a kid who liked the Yankees raised his hand.
We had to stay in some weird house on Crestmont Ave for like a month before the family moved out that was living in Shingletown Gap and we could move in. It was a little weird that this place was available, for just a month, well after the semester had started. We didn't completely unpack everything, just what we needed.  So there were half packed boxes all over the house, which did nothing to dispel its creepy vibe.  It was maybe a little nicer than the brick duplex we had lived in in Bel Air, but nothing spectacular.  And it was just dark, and kind of ... still and brooding.  I remember a lot of wood.  Dining room to the right as you came in, and a living room to the left that we never used.  Steps as you came in to two bedrooms and a bathroom on the second floor.  The one good thing was that my brother and I had separate bedrooms, and mine was the larger of the two with a dormer towards the front of the house.  The bad thing was Mom and Dad's room was on the first floor off the kitchen, and must have been directly under my room.  There was this kind of porch like thing on the back of the house off the kitchen that had a bricked in lower level with a single windowless door.  It was a spartan little "room" about 5x5 with a dirt floor - and it smelled heavily of dog, so we couldn't even really play there.  An alley ran behind the house, and the yard was small and brown and there were no trees like there were back home.
I was not adjusting well. Everything sucked. The Orioles lost to the Pirates. It was coming up on Halloween and I was in a strange neighborhood that I didn't know and I wouldn't ever get to know.  I didn't know any kids in the neighborhood, I hadn't gotten in with anyone at school, and I missed my friends. And my little brother was just oblivious.
And I started having dreams.  Lots of dreams.  And kind of disturbing dreams.  I dreamt one night a witch was after me.  She was a rather good-looking young woman, but she was evil.  There were strong associations of strangulation and vomiting. I think I was trying to strangle her, but she just wouldn't die, and it seemed upsetting to kill something that beautiful, and then I was getting sick to my stomach.... I woke up with a start, ripped the covers aside, and panic ran down the stairs to my parents room.  They were so far away! At home I could have screamed and they were right next door, they could have been there right away. And here I am, running from some witch, in a strange, dark house...  I finally got to my parents' room, explained the story, and they calmed me down and bundled me back off to bed.
Had another dream about finding a back pack that had belonged to an alien who looked a little like C3PO. Everything was fine until I started playing around with the back pack and somehow activated a recording of the alien.  My blood froze and I couldn't scream in the dream, just little squeaks.
But one night I woke up.  I don't recall a dream or anything, I just remember waking up.  And I swear, there was a woman standing over me.  She had long hair and glowed a kind of gold light with a slight green tinge.  It was actually like she was made of that light.  Standing right over top of my bed, bent at the waist, peering down at me. I didn't see her face, or at least didn't look at it.  Just long hair and light looking at me....
Covers up over my head to protect myself.  I tried to scream.  "Mom! Dad!" I couldn't.  I was completely terrified.  Little squeaks, just like in the back pack dream.  She was still out there.  "Mom!" I finally shrieked.  "Mom Mom Mom Mom!"
I could hear my parents jump up and hit practically every box and piece of furniture on the way out of their bedroom, through the kitchen, down the hall, up the stairs, into my bedroom.
With my parents in the room, the woman must have surely left.  I pulled the covers aside. "A woman!" I blurted out.  "She was standing over me! She was gold and just standing there looking at me."  My mom sat down on the bed to calm me down, and I could see my dad checking out the window in the dormer.  "It's okay," my mom soothed.  Eventually she managed to convince me it was just a trick of the street light coming in through the dormer.
My brother - like he would do several times after - apparently slept throught the whole thing.
We moved to Shingletown Gap after Halloween and lived for a year or two there. It was wonderful.  I started fitting in a little better.  There were a couple acres, and a shed/barn with two horses that had belonged to the previous owner - but they had sold them and the person they had sold them to didn't have room to keep them, so we got to look after the horses for a good little while.  My brother and I had separate but attached rooms, and the place was just neat.  Weird orange and metallic wall paper, brown shag carpeting, but neat.  There was a magical hiking spot by the reservoir up in the Gap, and I could ride my bike on the back roads...  I quickly forgot about the weird, dark house on Crestmont.....
We moved a lot when we lived in State College, every year or two - Crestmont, Shingletown, North Allen (that was a dump), Legion Lane.  Only stayed until the grant my father's position was on petered out, and then we left in 1983 when ... the Orioles were en route to another World Series appearance.  We stayed in one place - Williamsport, PA - after that - or at least my parents did.  I was on to college in Baltimore, and grad school in DC while living in Baltimore, Cleveland for a couple of years, back to the Baltimore area....
Over the years, my parents were fond of taking post-Labor Day trips to Nags Head with a couple of other families.  I would occasionally join them when I was in my 20's.  If the wind wasn't too bad, we would light a bonfire on the beach and drink and talk and maybe sing.  One year we decided to tell ghost stories....
"Tell 'em about Crestmont!" my mom suggested.  So I told them the above story.
"Is that it?" my mom asked.  "Oh, you didn't know, did you......"  I looked at her.  "The reason Crestmont was available for a month was because they just couldn't rent the place out.  A college student had lived there, and she hanged herself in the house....."
A few years later I was fascinated with everything Google maps had to offer, so I decided to see if I could find the place.  I remembered the street name, but I didn't remember the number.  No matter, I had the afternoon, that porch thing might give it away, and what a great test.  And look at this - Crestmont isn't a big street, only about three blocks.  There's the alley, there's the dog porch, there's the dormer.... I switched to street view....
There are no street lights any where close to that house.....