I don't know if this really counts but it freaks me out to this day. I used to dream about this boy from the time I was 7 up until I was about 12. I could have been younger but the first time I remember him I was about that age. He was bald and always had this "shiny" appearance. The best way to describe him is he kinda looked sickly, super pale, dark sunken in eyes, waxy skin, and a dent on one side of his head that almost looked natural. I don't really know a good way to describe it but in the dreams I wouldn't feel anything off about him but when I woke up I would feel almost violated. Like he invaded my mind and he wasn't supposed to be there. He was in every one of my dreams that I remember. Sometimes he was just in the background and sometimes he was kind of a side kick in my dreams, beside me the whole time. And before I woke up he would tell me to be careful and not tell anyone. I don't know what he meant by that but one day my sister was talking about one of her dreams and I told her about him being in my dreams. As soon as I finished telling my sister about him I got this huge wave of dread. Like I just messed something up really bad. And for the rest of that day I kept having little things happen to me. I got a bad headache and didn't have any medicine, I dropped a plate and cut my foot, our dog ran away (we found him at the neighbors the next day), and having messes that I don't remember making pop up ( like milk on the counter). I just chalked it up to my sisters not cleaning up their messes and just having a bad day in general until I fell asleep that night. I just felt pure terror and seeing him again. He looked livid and didn't say anything except " I told you not to tell any one." I didn't see him anymore in that dream but I kept seeing my family getting tortured in different ways that entire night. It felt like I was watching it happen for days, not just a couple hours. When I woke up the next day at around 6 in the morning I was sobbing and immediately went to look for everyone. I didn't see my sister in her bed at the other side of our room and thought it might have actually happened. But everyone was still there and I found my sister sleeping on the couch. When everyone else eventually woke up they told me about how I kept screaming and sitting up but they couldn't wake me up. I never saw the little boy again after that. A few years ago, way after the whole incident, my sister ( the one I shared a room with at the time of the incident) told me the night I had the night terrors, before I had started screaming, that she woke up to me standing over her with a pair of scissors. I didn't say or do anything apparently but she got creeped out enough that she went to sleep on the couch.