|Picture by Botho, my sister|
He stretched and got up to get out of bed. As he got up, a man was facing him standing in front of him in his bedroom. He could not make out the features. The room was dark. The man glared at him, they stood watching each other for some time. My father said all he felt at that moment was sheer cold fear. The hair at the back of his neck rose in bumps. His heart beat in his head and he could hear the beating wild and fast. Words choked in his throat and he couldn't speak. He said it was like an invisible hand throttling him as he gasped for air. It lasted like it seemed for hours.
Slowly he tried to push himself out of bed and the man came closer. He then decided that it was it; he was going to face this form or what ever it was that was before him, be it a man or a demon.
He cursed at the man and flung himself to grab him only to hit the dressing mirror that was facing him.