Don’t go downstairs

I remember as a child asleep in my bed late at night and kept hearing my mother calling my name from downstairs and disturbing my sleep. I thought it strange she would not come to me but kept calling me from the kitchen downstairs. I sat up in bed and again but i heard in melodic tones my mother calling for me to come downstairs. It was the oddest thing as it was way past midnight. Eventually i got up and walked onto the landing, the lights were off. I stood there and listened, again from downstairs i heard my mother. Suddenly but slowly my parents bedroom door and my mother emerged and put her hand over my mouth as we both looked over the landing and whispered. ” Shuush! I can hear that as well. Don’t go downstairs it wasnt me.”

We stood there and listened a while longer and couldn’t hear it anymore. My mother let me sleep in her bed that night. She still recalls that night.

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