A boy in an apartment

I'm 24 years old. Until recently, I was supported by my parents, but just two weeks ago I got a job in my field and rented a two-bedroom apartment. Since I live alone, I don't limit myself in any way. As for sleep, I go to bed whenever the mood strikes me. I usually get 4-5 hours of sleep a day, no more. I don't use drugs, nor do I drink alcohol. Let's move on to the incident that happened to me two days ago.

It was around 4 a.m., and I was listening to music and, without realizing it, I fell asleep. However, I couldn't get a good night's sleep because my head was splitting. My headphones were playing melancholy music, and at one point I thought I heard children's laughter. I took them off. My head was tingling, and all I could hear was the soft music coming from the headphones.

 I usually turn off all the lights when I don't need them—and that time, they were all out. I decided to go get some water in the kitchen. I walked into the living room and stopped dead in my tracks: I could clearly hear a child's laughter in the apartment, and the silhouette of a boy of about five appeared in the darkness before me. At first, I chalked it up to hallucinations due to lack of sleep, but after standing there for a few more minutes, I realized that wasn't the case: I could clearly see him now, and he had stopped laughing and was looking at me with such an imperturbable gaze that it gave me goosebumps. I asked him how he got there, but got no answer. I opened the front door and told him to come out. The boy left silently. I decided it was best to forget about this strange incident—it would be better to go and lie down.

When I returned to the living room, the boy was sitting on the floor again!

I was dumbfounded. I ran to the peephole and looked through it at the entrance hallway – there was no one there, although the boy couldn't have left in those few seconds. I turned around – and there he was, standing right behind me, silently piercing me with his gaze! He looked like he was disabled or mentally retarded – something about him was off. I thought I'd die of fear. Out of my mind, I picked him up, ran screaming to the balcony, and threw him down. The boy didn't resist, didn't make a sound.

I turned on the lights, the TV, and the radio – I felt safer that way. I was clearly in a state of shock and couldn't think straight. I ended up simply collapsing on the couch and watching every TV show in a row. This went on for about two hours. Then I finally decided to go downstairs, but I still couldn't find the boy or any traces of blood on the pavement below my window.

Two days passed. Now I'm trying again to convince myself that I imagined the whole thing because I lacked sleep. Although I know that's unlikely—the boy looked absolutely real. But I feel better thinking that way...