It happened in January, 2011. I woke in the middle of the night, because my son was standing at my bed pressing my feet. That time he was three, he had often woke up in the night and come to me.
And that moment I thought it was my son, I moved my foot letting him lie down. He didn’t lie down, but continued to stay and squeeze my feet. I rose my head and saw in the light of bedlamp - my son was standing dressed in his pajamas, but his face was all wrinkled as if it an old man’s face. A thought crossed my mind - maybe I hadn’t enough sleep or slept over - if anything. And he stood there and didn’t move, but leaned forward pressing my feet with his body. There was a full-wall mirror in front of the bed, I took a look at our reflections: I was in the bed, and the child stood nearby, cross-legged. And there he said disconsolately and plaintively: “Mommy, take me with you”. I answered: “Come here! It’s cold”. He whined again: “Mommy, take me with you”. Suddenly, I heard a sigh and chirrup, looked - there, in his beddy bye my babe was quietly sniffling. I had never felt such bodily fear in my whole life. Then it began to press my feet harder, slowly moving to the bed-head and whimpered. I desperately tried to kick out with my feet, but it wasn't to be: it toppled over my feet so I couldn’t move. Nuzzled into pillow, I began to remember prayers, I remembered only “Our Father…” and that’s all, blocking, I couldn’t remember what words were then. And that creature was becoming closer and close to my face.
Pressing with all his body and repeating the same words. Only one thought haunted me then - what would be with my son if I die of heart attack? He would wake up and see my dead body…
Everything ended in a blink of an eye. It disappeared, and I had been drinking Corvaldin till morning. In the morning I phoned my relatives around and gave strict orders to call me every morning and ask if everything is alright.
