Not My Son

One night many years back, I was sleeping in my bed, when I was awaken by what sounded like little footsteps moving across the living room floor. The house was pitch dark, but when I looked in the doorway there was moonlight shining through the window in the living room, so I was able to see that there was a figure of a small child standing in the doorway looking into my room. Assuming it was my son, I quietly asked him what was the matter and if he had a nightmare, there was no answer.

I asked again and still no answer. Still thinking it was my son, I figured that he was just sleep walking so I got out of bed and headed towards the door to pick him up and return him to his room. When I reached the door, the little figure just disappeared. I quickly went into my son’s room, and there he was, all tucked in and sleeping soundly. It didn’t look like he had moved an inch in his bed. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I was trying to figure out a logical explanation. But I kept coming back to the conclusion that I must have seen a ghost. It couldn’t have been my son, there was no way he could walk, must less run from my doorway to his bedroom and me not see him. After that night, I had a strange feeling like someone was watching and following me around the house. I would even close my bedroom door only to wake the following morning and find it open.

I asked my son and husband on many occasions if they had opened the door in the middle of the night and every time they both answered no. I never saw the ghost child again, but as long as I lived in that house, I always felt that he was there with me. I learned through my neighbor that several years before we moved in that a young boy who lived close by was riding his bike in the street in front of our house and was hit by a car, the driver got out, picked him u, sat down in my front yard and held him until the paramedics got there. He died in her arms before they arrived.

By: tmassingill@hydro-tex.com