Okay. Aliens are definitely real. I've had encounters with them on two separate occasions.

The first was in my bedroom. It started with lights filling up my windows and shining into my room almost as brilliant as the sun. They somehow maneuvered the roof to "open" as if it were on a hinge of some sort. Then, they appeared instantly, as if they teleported into my room. Nearly a half dozen of them. Small in stature. About 4 feet tall. Skeletal thin, almost frail looking, and with Oversize heads, in the shape of an inverted tear drop. They had almost nothing for mouths and noses, just slits. But their eyes. Huge, black, almond shaped eyes, that peered into your very soul.

They communicated in clicks, like insects, and they seemed to always have a sort of hazy mist surrounding them, so you couldn't see them too clearly, only just.

It was then that I realized I couldn't move my body. Only my eyes and a bit at my neck, and my fingers. I was literally quaking in fear at this point. Fear like I have known it before. One of those creatures came over to my bed, and levitated me off of it somehow, and toward a shaft of light that came directly from the ship overhead. As I got nearer to the light, my extreme fear must have been obvious to it, and in what I assumed was a gesture of compassion, but could very well have been something else, it took me into it's thin frail looking arms with surprising strength for something so thin and skeletal looking, and almost gently, kissed me on the forehead with it's narrow little slit of a mouth.

The next thing I knew, I was back in my bed, covered in a cold sweat, shaking from head to toe.

The second time, I was on the couch, and they came like before, with the same enveloping cloak of mist, the same clicking sounds for language, those same soul piercing, black, almond shaped eyes. But I don't have any memory after they showed up. Apparently they don't want you to remember anything about their ship or what's inside of it. I think it might compromise something for them.

I have never been more petrified in all my life as when those things were here those two times.

They might have visited me before, appearing before me as an illusion similar in appearance to my father, only shorter, and with large almond shaped eyes that held only small dot like pupils in them. A sort of disguise. Or that could have been a ghost. Either way, I only saw the face, thought it was my dad staring at me without so much as blinking, stared it down, as I never moved more than my head and neck or said a word, and it walked around my bed, shimmering into nothingness, like the invisible cloaking shield you sometimes see in Sci Fi movies. Maybe that was a scout sent out to observe me. Maybe it was a ghost.

Either way. The grays ARE here.