A few years ago, before I got married, I was about 14 years old. One night in May, I was trying to fall asleep. My bed was close to the wall, and when I lay sideways, I could see the closet, which had no door, just a curtain, and the door to the hallway. It was around 11:00 pm, and my parents were still awake in their bedroom. My brother was asleep on the living room couch.
I had just returned from the bathroom and climbed back into bed. I was facing the wall but then turned to face the other side. Suddenly, I saw a little boy standing right outside my closet. He looked about 6 or 7 years old, dressed in old-fashioned clothes that reminded me of something from a Mary Poppins movie. I was terrified and screamed for my mom and dad. The first time I screamed, the boy didn’t move, and my parents didn’t hear me. The second time, he jumped into the closet, and I saw the curtain move.
When my parents rushed into my room, I was crying in fear. They asked what was wrong, and all I could say was, “The little boy in my closet.” My dad and brother checked the closet but found nothing. They suggested I might have been dreaming, but I knew I was wide awake. I had just been to the bathroom minutes before.
That week, I slept with my mom, and she noticed how jumpy I was at every little noise. One of my aunts came over, spread holy water around my room, and prayed for the soul of the little boy. She said she felt his presence there.
Many people didn’t believe my story, but it happened. Some suggested it might have been the spirit of my older brother, who had passed away at 5 months old, long before I was born. They thought he might have been trying to remind us of his upcoming birthday. We visited his grave in Mexico, and since then, nothing strange has happened in the house.
We still live in the same house, but we’ve added an extra room. My old room is now my little brother’s room. He’s 17 years old and sometimes sleeps in the living room because he feels a bit scared. I believe it was the spirit of my older brother, visiting us to remind us that he missed us as much as we missed him.
Rest in peace, Hector. We love you.