This happened in Huntington, WV when I was 26. I lived for a brief time by myself in my Uncle Gavin's house, a lovely, contemporary, 2-level home. My uncle's neighbor Michael asked me to housesit for him for one week while he vacationed in Florida. He paid me 200 dollars up front to sleep over there and to keep his 37 plants watered. (I counted.)
Michael's house was larger and old, as are many of the houses in Huntington. I was a little spooked at having to enter through the backway only every night, as it required climbing up the deck stairs first. That's why it greatly disappointed me when the deck light burnt out the first night I stayed there. But I'm a big girl and I just resigned myself to entering in the dark. I was annoyed either that day or the next when the light over the kitchen sink also burnt out, but old house wiring sucks like that sometimes.
The next evening, I came home and had just gotten seated in the living room, which faces the kitchen, when I noticed a kitchen cabinet was wide open. I didn't use the kitchen, at least not that part of it. I only used the kitchen for the same reason I use any kitchen -- to make coffee. And that cabinet was nowhere near the coffee. I knew that cabinet had been shut earlier. I shut the cabinet and tested to see how firmly it stayed shut. Very firmly. It was not the type to swing open for any reason, and if it wasn't latched, it would not appear shut at all. But OK, whatever, there must be some explanation.
The next evening, I came home to find the cabinet at the hutch at the top of the stairs was wide open. Again, this cabinet had been closed previously. I shut it, of course, and was wondering what was going on.
That night, I was pretty spooked, so I decided to sleep in the living room instead of the bedroom. (Not sure why this felt safer, other than the fact that it was closer to the exit.) I turned the overhead living room light on and dimmed it so that I could sleep, but would still have light. I went to sleep and awoke 45 or so minutes later. When I opened my eyes, the light was completely out. The room was dark. I lay there frozen in fear (not paranormally-induced paralysis, but just plain "I'm too freaking scared to move" fear) for maybe 20 minutes. Finally, I forced myself off the couch and over to the dimmer switch. I turned the switch, and the light came back on. It had simply been turned down.
I wasn't such a big girl that night. I went home and slept. I persuaded a friend to stay over for the remainder of my time there, and there were no more strange occurrences. When Michael got home from vacation, I told him of the strange activity and he said that nothing like that had ever happened to him there -- no opening cabinets or lights being turned down. All I can assume is that the ghost or whatever did not like me there.