The Dream Man

I was 5 years old when the Dream Man first entered my life, and until I was 10 years old, he was a frequent visitor in my dreams. He only ever appeared when I was alone in my house, and the moment I realised I was alone, an overwhelming fear would bubble up inside me, born from fear that my solitude was an invitation for the Dream Man to manifest. I would try to leave the house but an invisible force would slow me down until I was rooted to the spot, and then it would suck me backwards. I was literally swept off my feet and sucked backwards, to the bottom of the stairs, then up the stairs without my feet touching the steps, along the corridor, into my bedroom, and finally under the bed, where the Dream Man lived.
It was dark in he's domain, but he's long thin illuminant body would give off enough light that I could see he's face, and in particular hes huge, black eyes. He looked like the infamous 'Greys'. The Dream Man spoke to me telepathically and would say, 'Don't be scared Ian. I just need to give your some dreams. Theres no need to be afraid'. That's all I remember. I would wake up, but I never remembered the Dreams he inserted into me.
During this same 5 year period, I used to get a lot of nosebleeds and migraines. I also sleep walked quite often and my mum would have a technique that usually got me back into bed. When I sleepwalked, I vaguely recall the urge to 'count the numbers'. Counting numbers involved doing things, and each thing meant I could add 1 to the total number. Simple things like touching an object, moving 1 foot forward, looking at an object....all these things counted as 1. There were a lot of numbers to count. My mum would say to me, 'Can I count the numbers for you?' which would grant me the release to go back to bed.
The last time I saw the Dream Man was when I was 10 years old. It was the first time I ever saw him anywhere other than under my bed. He came downstairs and he wasn't alone. There was a little version of him. The Dream Man told me the other was he's son. I felt calm knowing this. I wasn't afraid. The Dream Man told me that there were other children like me, that had their own Dream Man, including a boy that lived in the next street to me. He told me to go and visit the boy, so I did. And indeed, when I asked him, the boy confirmed that he too had a Dream Man.
When I returned home, the Dream Man and he's son were gone, so I went into the back garden to get my bicycle. I could hear a knock, so I looked up and saw the Dream Man in my bedroom window. He was waving at me. I smiled, waved back, collected my bike and left. That was the last time I saw him during my childhood.