I want to talk about visions, which several times happened in my life. One of them happened when our son was two years old. We live in a village in the Chelyabinsk region.
It was winter. I woke up because my legs felt cold. The room was light, the window the moon is shining bright. I see a man standing and holding the edge of my blanket with two fingers of the right hand, the other three fingers were protruding upwards. However, he playfully smiled and looked at me, as if waiting for how I will react.
Before this man I never saw. Still don’t know who it was. Short, overweight and wearing a dark hat, grey coat, speckled, black arrows ironed trousers, black shoes.
Then the man, smiling, he loosened his fingers and the blanket fell to my feet. Turning his back on me, he slowly went from the bedroom to the hall through a closed interior door. He went farther and farther through the rippled glass, I saw only the receding silhouette.
What it was, still don’t know. Husband my story is not believed.
A few months literally on the same place, I saw a teenage girl. She was standing sideways to me, face to the wall, behind which lived the neighbors. She was wearing a white blouse with short sleeves and skirt-the pleating above the knees in a large square. Long brown hair gathered in a ponytail at the crown. The arms at the seams.
She, not turning to me, he stepped through the wall to the neighbors. It seemed to me that in both cases, the vision lasted about one to two minutes.
And another similar phenomenon happened with me immediately after marriage. I was 20 years old. The husband is older than me by three years. We lived for a time in the house of his mother. One day I woke up from the gaze. Beside the bed stood a tall man in striped pajamas and looked at me. As if studying me with his blue eyes.
I got scared, hid under the blanket. When I looked out from there, he continued to stand there. I decided to Wake her husband, he slept against the wall. But when I woke, the bed was empty.
In the morning, told about their vision of the mother-in-law, described this man. Mother-in-law showed me a photo of her husband, who died when her son (my husband) was studying in the tenth grade. It was the same man. That’s the story.