When my son was little, he had an imaginary friend at my aunt’s house named Alice… Alice would play with him and they would laugh and all that jazz… One day, he came downstairs and said he was not going to play with her anymore. We asked him why. He said that Alice was mad at him and Alice got mean when mad. (He was only a little over 2 years old.) We blew it off as imagination. My aunt collects antiques. She had a really old tricycle on top of her refrigerator. The next morning, it was down and in the middle of the kitchen. When asked, my son explained that it was Alice’s tricycle. After that, we did some research and found that a little 4 year old boy named ALEX (to a 2 year old could be pronounced as Alice) died in that house approximately 80 years before. I won’t even go into the stuff my sister and I used to be involved with.