I was visiting a haunted house by the coast as part of a ghost tour. The tour guide told us the story of the merchant family who had lived there. One day, the entire family, save the youngest daughter, who was ill, went on a short trip on the father’s newest vessel. Though the ship was not carrying cargo, it was attacked by pirates, who captured the vessel for their own and slew all those aboard. The youngest daughter, Agnes, was now the sole survivor. She lived the rest of her life with a great hatred of pirates, often sitting on the porch looking out at the harbor with a gun raised, ready to shoot at the first sign of the black flag. She died young, as she was incredibly sickly, and her house became the property of the town, who used it as a library. However, the library had to be closed down because patrons were reporting scratch marks along their arms and backs, phantom hands tugging their hair and shirts. Books about pirates were constantly found flung from the shelves by an invisible force, and patrons who tried to pick up these books were pushed around, tripped, and in a few cases even suffered burns where their hands had touched the book. As the guide finished this story, she led us into the room that had once been Agnes’ bedroom, where the ghostly activity was at its strongest. Nervous, I moved to the back of the line, wanting to enter but scared to do so. Finally, once the entire tour group had entered the room, I got up the courage….and the minute I crossed the threshold, I felt something tugging at my neck. The thick leather chain of my necklace split in half, and the mock Aztec Gold necklace (inspired, of course, by the first Pirates of the Caribbean film) that I had been wearing was flung to the floor. There were bloody nail marks on the back of my neck, and the necklace chain, despite being a quarter of an inch of solid leather, had been torn in half by a pair of ghostly hands.