I was 13 at the time, I shared a room with my aunt. I woke up in the middle of the night and I looked over to my aunt and I saw a little boy standing over her. Now, I was really tired and I thought it was my little brother, so I lay back down and I remembered I don't have a little brother. I open my eyes and he was gone. The next day when I woke up I told my mom and she said it was a dream. That night I woke up to giggling, I open my eyes and the little boy was looking at me, like right in my face. I closed my eyes and then he was gone. I knew my mom wouldn't believe me, so I told my uncle about him. I won't forget what he said. He said, You saw him too? I believed him because I saw the fear in his eyes. After that we had so muck bad luck in our family, my great grandma, my other uncle, and a cousin died in the same month. Then my uncle who saw the little boy was shot, but he lived, and after that we never saw the little boy again.