One night, I woke up to see the Old Man standing near the foot of the bed about a foot or so away. His back was against the wall and he was facing the door opposite. I was a bit bleary-eyed as I tried to talk to him. He didn't respond at first. I sat up, sensing something was wrong. Then, he slowly, slowly turned his head towards me. His aura darkened. I tried to scream when I saw his eye sockets were empty and his face seemed to age before my eyes. He began to step towards the bed, taunting me to call for my parents. I backed up as far as I could as he began to crawl onto the foot of the bed. I jumped out of bed and ran for the door as his dry rasping laugh faded away. I knocked at my parent's door only to have Mom escort me back to bed. Of course, he was gone. The sheets were on the floor.
The next day, the Old Man was back. This time, his aura and demeanor were light. I confided in him what had happened. He was saddened to hear what had happened, assured me that it was not him, and that he thought he knew what needed to be done. He told me was going to be going away soon and that I would have to be strong without him and, after he was gone, everything should settle down a bit. I was torn. I was still uncertain from what had happened the previous night but I also didn't want him to go; through everything, he was the only adult (albeit dead) who believed that I could see and speak with ghosts AND he could fend off the Bad Things.
A few nights later, the Bad Things were calling from the darkness and woke me up. The Old Man was there. He went towards the darkness, the voices, and I could hear their conflict as if down a far tunnel as it faded away. The bedroom seemed lighter somehow. I hadn't realized that there was a darkness in the room before that.
I only saw teh Old Man one more time after that night. My family was all together one day, having lunch. The Old Man was glowing and all smiles but he wouldn't talk to me. He indicated that he didn't want to talk, he was just there to check in on me. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out "STOP!" when my sister went to sit in the seat that he was sitting in. Mom spun me around and demanded to know what was going on. I told her the Old Man was sitting there. Mom took my head in her hands and told me to repeat after her, "there are no ghosts, there's nothing in the dark, and nothing is out to get me". As I repeated those dreadful words, I watched the Old Man fade away, as if being pulled backwards down a tunnel. He was smiling and waving as he left, though, perhaps, a bit sad.
I haven't interacted with any ghosts like I did with him since that day.