Mommy, take me home."

"

It happened in January 2001. I woke up one night to find my son standing by my bed, leaning against my legs. He was three years old at the time, and he often woke up at night and came running to me. This time, I thought he was home, so I moved my leg, giving him a comfortable place to climb onto the bed. He didn't climb onto the bed, but continued to stand there, pressing against my legs. I lifted my head and, in the light of the nightlight, saw my son standing there, in his pajamas, but his face was wrinkled, like an old man's. A thought flashed through my mind—either I didn't get enough sleep, or I overslept—I was just imagining things. He stood by the bed, unmoving, just leaning on his legs, pressing against them with his body. Opposite the bed was a floor-length mirror, and I could see our reflections in it: me on the bed, and my son standing next to me, crossed legs.

 And then he says in such a pitiful, creaky voice: "Mommy, take me to your place." I reply: "Climb faster, it's cold." He whines again: "Mommy, take me to your place." Suddenly I hear a sigh and smacking sound, and I look - and there, in his crib, my child is quietly snoring. I have never experienced such animal fear in my life. And it began to press harder on my legs, slowly moving along the bed to the headboard and continuing to whine. I tried to kick my legs, but no such luck: it fell on my legs and did not let me move. Burying my face in the pillow, I began to remember prayers, but only remember: "Our Father..." and that's it, a gap in my memory, I don't remember the rest of the words. And this creature was getting closer and closer to my face. It was pressing with its body and repeating the same phrase over and over. Only one thought pounded in my head - if I die of a heart attack, what will happen to my son in the morning? He'd wake up and there'd be a cold corpse...

It was all over in an instant. It vanished, and I spent the rest of the day taking Corvalol. That morning, I called my relatives and sternly instructed them to call every morning and check if everything was okay.