Ever since I was a little girl, my mother always told me we were not alone in the universe. My grandmother and grandfather were always worried about someone breaking and entering the premise, so we would check the locks on all doors and windows before going to bed at night. I remember frequent occasions when I was a young girl of 5-8 I would commonly have hours of missing time. Sometimes I would wake up in a different room and have no recollection of the previous six hours. I was not a sleepwalking child, and never did I take naps during the day. My mother and I share similar memories of having missing time throughout the days in our old Lisle house. Both my mother and I have produced what I will call here "alien art." This includes winged humanoids, short men in what looks like hazmat suits, and suspicious four-legged animals with bright eyes. I'm not a religious person, but I think everybody needs something to believe in.