What happened to me was real. You know what they say about toddlers having the ability to see ghosts? Well, way back when my son was just 1 year old, I would see him staring out the window, pointing at something, (or someone) and his face looked really scared. When we watched a scary movie and he saw a ghost character, he would immediately point at the window, like he was telling me that the
character in the movie is like the one that is in the window. Of course, at first I didn’t want to believe that my son could see ghosts but I've proven it because of the incident that happened that night.
I was sleeping when I was suddenly awakened by something that was moving behind me, like someone
scouring at something beside me. The light was out, it was very dark but I could still see a vivid image in the overhead mirror. I saw a figure of a lady checking something in my bag (the zipper of my bag is broken, so it's open). At first, I thought I was just dreaming, because sometimes I experience this thing where you feel that you're awake, only to find out that you're still dreaming.
I went back to sleep, thinking I was just dreaming only to be awaken again by something that's brushing the sole of my left foot. I found it irritating and thought that it was just a bug or the hem of my blanket causing it. At first I just brushed it off, and closed my eyes again, trying to go back to
sleep. I felt the brushing again. I kicked my foot hard trying to get rid of the probable bug or blanket when suddenly my son, whom I don't know is laying beside me, wide awake, all that time, let out a piercing scream. He was crying hysterically and pointing his fingers at something that's at the foot of our bed. I tried to calm him down, asking him what he was seeing, though he can't really
talk well. He was just crying and crying and wouldn’t stop pointing at the foot of the bed. His face is full of fear. He keeps on screaming, his scream is that when you see a ghost of some sort. I turned on the lights and hugged my son who was cowering under my arms. He was still pointing at the foot of our bed. I tried to calm him down but he wouldn’t calm down so I decided to bring him to
another room. When we got to the other room, he stopped crying.
Before I stepped out of the room, holding my son in my arms, I looked on the bed and cursed at the ghost. I asked him to stop scaring my son and then I cussed at him. I didn't feel afraid, honestly, I was really angry because I pitied my son
so much. I couldn’t bear the look on my son's face. He was really, really scared like he was in trauma or something. I felt really mad at the ghost. When I went back to my room to tried to sleep again. I talked to the ghost again, telling her that if she does it again, and my son ends up traumatized or something, I'm really going to get mad and I'll do something about it. While I was lying on my
bed, that's when I realize and remembered that my feet are dangling on the bed so there's no way that a cockroach can reach my foot and my blanket is not actually wrapping my foot while I was sleeping.
I don't know why but I didn't feel scared, really. I just felt mad, I was so angry. I guess it was my
mother's instinct that kicked in, to protect my child from danger and harm, in any way that I can...even if it's against something that’s no longer human.