I woke up in the middle of the night to hear a man whispering my name. His voice seemed to come from the top corner of the room, but when I left the bed and looked, I saw nothing.

He was whispering my name in a way that sounded like he was trying to remind me of something important, but I had no idea of what we could have in common. Although, I had to admit, his deep and low voice was so familiar to me, that at certain moments I left the impression he was somebody I had known for a long time. Even so, even so, the voice was unknown to me. Even if it didn’t sound like that. It seemed to come from the top corner of the room - as I happened to be in the bottom corner of the room (my bed was against two of the walls - the one behind my back and the one at my right hand side). My first reaction was to turn on the light, but the switch was by the door, at the other end of the room (I had to cross the entire length of the room to get there). I was so frightened that I didn’t dare leave the bed, but at the same time I was so curious that I couldn’t endure the uncertainty. My mind was caught in an endless circle of fear and curiosity, which only ended when the man stopped whispering my name. I stood there paralyzed for a few seconds. After a while, I decided that what was going on was unbearable to me. I did my best to overcome my fear, took a deep breath and left the bed, making my way slowly to the switch. I turned on the lights and looked around the room, but there was nobody. I left the house, crossed the street and made my way down to my grandmother’s apartment. She was surprised to see me at that hour and immediately asked me what was wrong. In the beginning I didn’t say anything, but after a while I decided to tell her the truth. She asked me if I knew the man’s voice, but I said I didn’t. She asked me if I was sure, but my answer was the same - no. She looked at me with a strange expression in her face and then said: “Son, I think you have a misleading notion of who your father is.”