I live near San Francisco, across the bridge, and its quite beautiful and all, but it is pretty foggy sometimes. Like foggy to the point that I can't see my car in the driveway, 20 feet in front of me. Anyway, I'm coming home from school one day about two years ago, and its pretty foggy already in the town my school is in (about a 10 minute drive) and I get to my hill and drive all the way up (my house is at the top of the hill). I've lived in this house most of my life, about 14 years now, and nothing odd has ever happened. So I get to my house, pull up in the driveway, and i can barely make out my dog in the window, wagging his tail and everything. I get out of the car, and immediately the howling wind that blows down from the higher hills blows my car door shut, and continues to ravage the foliage around my house, yet the wind never does this when its foggy, otherwise there is no fog. So I'm feeling a bit skeptical as I open my door and go in, I call for my parents but no one is home but my dog. It's really cold in the house, and I'm thinking okay well what's going on, I'm spooked. I go upstairs to my parents room on the top (third) floor and find that both of their windows are slid all the way open, letting in all the wind and thus making the house a fucking igloo. I close the windows, turn on the heat, and go downstairs to my room on the bottom floor and feeling pretty cold and tired, I crawl into my bed with my laptop where my dog crawls in with me. I'm typing some essay for homework that I've been working on for a long time, when suddenly I realize my room is fucking freezing, and when I look, the windows ACROSS FROM MY FUCKING BED ARE WIDE OPEN. All the windows in my house are like sliding doors, and their a bit old so they make a huge noise when being opened. I swear, these were not open when I went into my room. So now I'm shitting my pants, and close the windows. One of them fogs over a bit, and the word "NO" has already been written out in the glass. I literally ran to the bathroom to avoid shitting myself, my dog knew something was up so he scurried along with me. As I'm in there, I hear knocking at the door, and at this point I'm getting pretty fucking scared out of my mind. I sneak out of the bathroom, literally sneaking around like a fucking cartoon character. I go to check the front door, nothing in the peephole, and I sink down to the floor. The couch next to me blocks my view of the huge sliding glass doors (like 15 ft wide by 25 feet tall) across the big room. I stand up again, see that one of the doors has fogged over as well, and "WHO AM I" is written on the glass. I grab my laptop, dog, and car keys, and stayed the night at my grandpas house 50 miles away. To this day, I have no explanation for what happened, there has never been any other sense of a ghost or other thing in or around my house, but I have never been more scared in my life. My mom believes me, I don't know why, but we have no idea what it was or if it'll ever happen again.