Around the year 2007/2008 I had confusing dreams in which aliens appeared and in which I rode up elevators and entered a building in which spiral staircases led clockwise upwards. I saw my nephew in these dreams, with whom I had little other contact.

I couldn’t do much with these dreams and I didn’t have clear memories like the kidnapping at the age of 11. So I didn’t make much of it. It was probably nothing, I guessed. But I said to myself, if it has to do with aliens and you really do meet your nephew up there, no matter whether you remember those encounters in the morning or not. Every time you see your nephew up there, you’ll ask him to talk to you about it in reality and ask you one question: “Do you always have dreams like this too?”

I would tell him that I would answer “Yes.” to that question. Then we would both have certainty that it was true.

With any luck, he would remember the meeting at the Aliens and ask that very question in reality one day. That was my plan. I mentally asked the aliens to pick me up so he wouldn’t be alone up there.

Seriously, I did not expect that to happen. Why would he be abducted, and why would the aliens read my mind? Such a nonsense. I have my feet much too much on the carpet to believe in such a thing.

Half a year to a year later, I visited my sister. I was invited. My nephew, then 11 years old, was already in bed. It was summer and dark. Me and my brother-in-law were sitting outside on the terrace having a beer. It was close to 10 pm. I could see my nephew’s upstairs bedroom window. Lit up. I approached my brother-in-law about it. Pascal always left the lights on at night because he was probably going through a phase with nightmares, he said. Nothing special for an 11-year-old boy.

Suddenly a fight started inside on the first floor, my sister was arguing with her son. He left his room because of something. It was late. He was supposed to go back to bed but he wouldn’t. He shouted at her “NO! I HAVE TO ASK HIM THIS NOW!!!” and walked past her. He came outside, all broken up, naked desperation on his face, but determined, with tears in his eyes and asked me, “Do you always have dreams like that?”

I was shocked at his condition. I didn’t want him to be afraid. I looked at him and said:

“No.”

His expression looked puzzled, but the fear disappeared. He was suddenly calm. It was as if I had flipped a switch. He turned around, and walked past his mother up the stairs to bed.

His mother was asking, “Is everything alright now??”

The light on his window went out.

I knew at that moment that I would never have the certainty of a shared abduction with him. I had been insanely scared in my childhood. And also one difficulty or another. I didn’t want him to have to go through that.

What should I make of the event?

The fates of the other family members are unknown to me to this day. I don’t know if they remember the events. I have never talked to them about it.

The contact is not so close and I have learned in my life to keep some things to myself.