Tickled Feet - A Narrative

I was four years old when I had my first encounter. In one chilling winter night, my under-developed view of life and death had been exposed to something I had never, at that time, put any real thought into. I had more important things to think about; would my friend James, who lived a few apartments down from our own, want to try and catch toads with me in the creek? I bet I could keep up my dirty trick of convincing him that my milk was not milk at all, but rather white beer. After this night, however, my young-minded thoughts became a bit more complex, my questions a bit more intellectual. My mother had asked me that next morning what I was thinking so hard about, mothers are so keen. "Mommy, I saw something last night...."
While lying in my child sized bed, probably dreaming of myself as a ninja turtle, I awoke to whispering. I cracked open my sleepy eyes to see a woman standing over my sister's crib just across the room. I muttered "mommy" or "mama;" she turned her head to face me, and I realized very quickly that this woman was not my mother. That's when I noticed the cliché white nightgown and mistiness about her. The stranger lifted her hands from the crib's edge and turned her body towards me, all movements flowing together with such grace. Her soothing smile imprinted into my mind. Without flaw, she began to come towards me, floating like a cloud in the sky. No legs or feet were to be seen, not even the bottom of the nightgown was visible, almost as if everything had gradually disappeared right below the knees. The arms were at 90 degree angles and bent forward, as if one were to be holding their hands in front of his/her belly. The hands, however, had now vanished. Just the same gradual disappearance at the forearms was all I could see. She glided closer, same loving smile caressing her face, yet I became more terrified. It’s common knowledge that blankets are an impenetrable fortress, and hiding yourself under them makes you untouchable. I've never