After graduating from high school, we still lived across the street from the cemetery. My parents thought a trip to Florida with my father for business would help open my eyes to new possibilities. That's what I was told anyway. Our first night out of town, one of my best friends was killed in a motorcycle accident. I didn't find out until I got home and was handed the paper saying he'd been "mortally wounded". The words weren't obvious at first, but then it clicked. Our group grieved for him. I'd missed his funeral, so we held a bonfire in his honor.
His last name was Bell but there was no association to an actual bell until one night as I lay looking out my bedroom window waiting for sleep to come. I heard a bell faintly on the other end of the cemetery to the south east. Ok, that's weird. A few nights later, I heard the bell again only a little closer. This pattern continued off and on for months as the bell drew even closer. My parents found a great house at a great price and we moved. Before moving, the bell had moved from the cemetery to our street, driveway and up to our house. I could not wait to move!
A few months into our new home, my former neighbor comes and spends the night with me. I'm laying there relaxing when I hear the bell at the side of the bed. I come unglued (to put it mildly) and start screaming. She wakes up and tries to calm me down. I'm asking "did you hear that?" to which she replied "no". I gather my wits about me the best I can and eventually go to sleep. The bell never rang again. I've told myself that it was all a figment of my imagination and my subconscious was working over time. It was just weird and went on for several months, so I guess this is a good place to put it.