It was 2008. Shortly after my grandmother died, I was home from college on winter break. I was asleep in my childhood bedroom when I woke up in the middle of the night to a freezing cold room, which is odd because my room is an addition onto the original house and it tends to be much hotter than the other rooms in the house. Then, I noticed the blades on my ceiling fan were moving slowly even though the fan was not on and no windows were open. There was a wind-up music box on the shelf above my bed, one that that my grandmother had given to me of a girl on a carousel horse, and it started playing, slowly, as if the music was playing its way out. It was like, you know when you wind up a music box and before it stops playing music it struggles out a few last notes? It was like that for what felt like an eternity, just choking out notes of Fur Elise one little haunting ping at a time. Very, very creepy.