It's about ten o'clock at night. I'm watching TV as usual, in this half-hour before bed, when my little girl comes out of her room.

"What's wrong, Melanie?" I ask, frowning. She's usually asleep by now.

"There's a boy in the corner of my room. He's my brother." She says. This is ridiculous- she doesn't have a brother.

"What do you mean, a boy?"

"He just stands there and watches me sleep. He hasn't moved in a while."

"You must have had a bad dream, Melanie. Go back to bed."

The five-year-old turns and walks slowly back into her room. About a minute later, there's a deathly, heart-stopping girl's scream.

"Melanie!" I don't even pause the TV. I run into her room to find her dead body in the middle of the floor. Her throat is slit and her eyes are empty.

"Melanie!" I cry again, tears pouring down my face. Standing in the corner is a little boy, who suddenly disappears. He was watching her sleep.

I walk out into the kitchen to call the police. On the TV, breaking news enters the screen.

"The death of a little boy of the name of Richard Stuart is being investigated at this very moment. He claims to have seen a 'little girl' in his room, watching him sleep. He also had claimed that it was his sister. His father sent him back to bed, thinking that it was a bad dream. Minutes later, Richard was found dead in his room with a slit throat."

I gasped. Richard was my ex-husband's boy.

Later that night, going to bed, I see a shadow in the corner of my room.

"Hello, Mary. I am your brother."

He watched me sleep that night.