One day, our stepfather got very drunk, so my mother put him to sleep on the couch in the living room while she slept with me and my younger brother in the children's room. In the middle of the night, she felt like she couldn't breathe, as if something heavy had fallen on top of her. Still half asleep, she thought it was her stepfather. But when she opened her eyes, she was frozen with horror: a classmate who had died ten years ago was sitting on her chest, trying to strangle her. Her eyes were hidden in the darkness, but her entire face was contorted with rage. My mother tried not to scream, so as not to scare us. She resisted the strangler as best she could, remembering the words of a prayer. At some point, the girl simply disappeared. The next morning, my mother was in a terrible state and told us about it, and I myself saw large bruises on her neck.
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