In the fall of 2000, I met my current fiancee, Tracy. At the time, she was living in an apartment complex in Chillicothe, Ohio. I told her early on of my interest in the paranormal, and surprisingly, she had some experiences of her own to tell. She told me that her best friend was the tenant across the hall, and that they both had ghosts. She had done some research into the area, and found out that where her apartment complex was built used to be an old indian burial ground. She nicknamed her ghost Sylvester. Her friend nicknamed her ghost Henry. Her friend said that Henry would communicate with her by turning the lamp in the living room on and off. She wasn't afraid of him and enjoyed his company. Tracy didn't like Sylvester, though, but didn't want to move out on account of him. Sylvester liked to play pranks. She said she always left her keys laying out on the counter or on an end table, along with her cigarettes and lighter. When she would be in another room or sleeping in bed, Sylvester would pick her keys up and drop them back down. She never saw him pick them up. He liked to put her keys in different places and take her cigarette lighter. I was eager to meet Sylvester, and so I spent a few weekends there. While we were in bed trying to fall asleep with the bedroom door open, I heard her keys drop onto the counter myself. This apartment complex was usually quiet at night. At the time there were no other noises. A little bit later, along the wall in the hallway leading back to the bedroom, something knocked from what sounded like the other side. On the other side of the wall is the kitchen pantry with the water heater. I got up the next morning and checked the pantry. The plumbing was all plastic, and didn't run along the wall where it could have caused the knocking. I couldn't locate a source for the sound. The pantry door was a bi-fold, and had to be tugged at to open. It would creak as it opened. On several occasions, including the morning after the wall knocking, Tracy would come out to the kitchen to find the door partially open, yet it could never be heard or seen to open on its own. Another time, her friend was over and they were sitting down talking in the living room facing the tv when a face appeared in a cloudy form at the bottom of the screen, which was turned off at the time. It faded after a few moments. Both of them saw it. All of this was hard to take, as I was trying to explain the events away. It is very easy to get caught up in the moment and want to believe that every little thing has a supernatural cause when you are wanting things to happen. I could find no rational explanation for why the things I experienced there happened. A few weeks later, we decided to move in together. My family came down and helped pack and move. We moved to an apartment in Marysville. Upon unpacking everything, we discovered that Sylvester had taken a serving spoon and a hot pad as a joke. We have never found them, and had double-checked her old apartment before she moved out to make sure nothing was left behind. Tracy asked me if ghosts followed their humans, hoping that Sylvester would stay in Chillicothe. I told her that he should stay, but that they have been known to follow people. This would soon prove to be the case.