A haunting isn't always caused by a sudden death and the potent mix of rage and sadness it creates, sometimes a haunting is a cry for help, one that was never answered yet still hopes to be. It can be heard in asylums mostly, in the whimpers between creaking floorboards and the faint crying barely hushed by the wind through broken windows.
What most people seem to forget is that asylums are built around a church and as such they are hallowed ground (at least until the church's sacred relic is removed and with it the consecrative properties of the area). The souls that linger there want to remain just as much as the living would want to live there and they make that as vocal as they are able.
The mournful dead aren't fully realised beings they are more like concepts, an imprint of tragedy rather than an entire person crammed into a fleeting shadow. As such they aren't strictly to be considered ghosts, they aren't people after all, they are the strongest emotions of the dead that keep their souls tethered to whatever remains of their body.
Eventually as the body rots to nothing, the hauntings become more abstract as the dead lose all sense of reality while their souls drift away in spectral breezes to float about the world as a vague haze of emotion. What's left of their tethered selves often becomes little more than doors that refuse to close, cold spots in an otherwise warm home and plates that just keep slipping from your suddenly numb hands.
Don't blame the dead who can't rest, blame the ones who rest, utterly at peace with what they've done.
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