An old woman in a cassock

 We used to live in a small Orthodox town. We were born there, grew up there, and never traveled very far.

I grew up as a pretty restless and hooligan child. And all these prohibitions and punishments were already sitting in the liver, and dislike of church servants is generally a separate conversation. To us children, all these nuns looked like old, angry, wrinkled old women who would stop us at every little thing and always grumble to themselves with a displeased expression. And we were very afraid of them.

And then one day (I was about 11-12 years old) My parents left late for a visit, and I was left alone at home. The time was about one o'clock in the morning. I was sitting on my bed reading a book when I suddenly heard a very quiet rustle. I look up from my book and see a small (about half a meter tall) old woman in a black cassock standing in the corner of the room, facing the corner. She stood with her back to me and didn't turn around. I just let out an inarticulate squeak, I couldn't even move from fear... Finally, I shouted, "What do you want?!" A wild growl followed in response, but the old woman did not turn to me, only growled.

I quickly jumped out of bed and ran into the hallway, crying, stumbling, and my heart almost stopped. With trembling hands, she opened the door and ran out into the hallway. She screamed so much that a neighbor ran out and invited me to her apartment. She poured me water, made the sign of the cross over me, and asked where my parents were. I said they were visiting Aunt Inna. Then the neighbor called her on her home phone and told my parents to go home faster — allegedly their daughter had a nightmare and she was hysterical. When my parents came home, I told them everything. My mother replied that God was punishing me for behaving badly.

After that, the mother consecrated the apartment. At first, I was very afraid to be alone, and my parents did not leave me and did not visit so late. Three months passed like that, and I calmed down. Nothing like this happened, and I began to think that I would never meet this old woman again.

One Friday evening, my father was on a day trip, and my mother went to a neighbor on the 8th floor - they watched a movie together, which lasted until half past midnight. I was about to go to bed when someone knocked on the door. I thought that my mother had finally come. I opened the door and saw a small black bag on the threshold. Then he moved, and I immediately realized who it was...

I tried to slam the door shut, but something prevented me. I looked down and saw the old woman's ugly bony hand—she stuck it in the crack between the door and the jamb and wouldn't let me close it. I kept pulling on the door, and she was growling and screaming. All I could hear was a shout: "Open up, you scum!" But I managed to slam the door shut, and the hand disappeared.

After this incident, my mother found a few gray hairs on my head. She took me to some healers, they performed rituals, washed me with solutions and oils and told me that I should burn all my clothes that I had, buy everything new and sell the apartment. That's what we did — we started life anew, moved to another city, and everything stopped. But I still remember that ugly old woman.