Mother loves you written by VyperExclusive
- PLEASE NO STEALING & ONLY GRAMMATICAL EDITS. THIS IS A PERSONAL AND CLOSE TO HEART PASTA** :)
You don’t know true fear.
I’m talking about the fear of being utterly terrified to the core by someone you once saw as a protector.
It was a normal weekend just like any other. I was more than excited to be off of work and looking forward to a long night of junk food and Call of Duty. It was not until after my video game indulgence that things started to get…strange.
That night before I went to bed, I went around the house for my nightly routine of turning off all the lights. I don’t know what is with me, call it a weird OCD habit or something, but every night, I always end up with every light in my house turned on. Good thing I have a paying job, because the electric bill is never a good sight. Anyway, I had come to the hallway, which is always the last place I hit before entering my room. The hall was long and narrow, and was the first left once you went up the stairs. To the right was the bathroom. I have never been one for superstitions or ghosts, and my home has never brought any sense of fear or dread. Until this night.
I had been making my way up the stairs as usual, turning right at the top of the stairs leading into my bathroom so I could brush my teeth before bed. I don't know if it was from exhaustion or my eyes playing tricks on me, but I swear I could see within the mirror a dark figure of a tall woman standing in my bedroom. I whipped back in shock, toothbrush still in mouth, only to see…nothing. I shrugged it off, spat and rinsed. As I walked down the hallway, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. The caller ID said, “Dad." I was relieved to see my father calling, seeing as how I got freaked out and knowing he could calm me down made me content. He hasn’t been the same since mom left. When I answered the phone, what I heard shook me to the core. On the other line was a scratchy, low -toned female voice.
She repeated the phrase, “Mommy loves you” over and over, repeatedly getting more and more aggressive each time. I hung up the phone as fast I could. I was even more freaked out than I had been before. I tried calling my dad's phone back, but every time, it would go straight to voicemail. I decided to shrug it off. I let my mind believe it was just some sick prank and I proceeded to enter my room. Everything was normal. No killer waiting to skin me, no ghosts or monsters. Just a bed, a TV and a laptop. Yep, pretty uneventful.
I laid down and fell asleep for what seemed like no more than 2 hours, when all of a sudden, I heard it. A low-toned, scratchy voice coming from within my room, saying, “Mommy loves you." I was terrified. The covers were over my head, and I dared not come out from within them. I had cheap white sheets like the ones you’d see in a hospital bed, and I could see right through them when the street lights shined through my window. Peering through, I could make out a tall, husky figure with long hair. I couldn’t tell what or who it was, but it started to tell me things only my mother would know.
Our times at the park. Our random adventures when she would just take me and drive. The moments between her and Dad. These things would all had been comforting and less menacing if it were not for the fact that my mom had been killed in a car accident two years ago. I started to cry, and I tried my best to muffle the sobs, because I noticed as I cried, “It” got even closer. It was right next to me, hovering over me within seconds when I heard it. Its voice, first starting quiet and high-pitched, then getting deep and loud by the end of the phrase.
“Mommy…and daddy...love you."
Instantly, the covers were ripped off of me and my eyes laid horror to a hulking mass with long black hair and what seemed to be a grotesquely stitched mask that was made out of what appeared to be human flesh, scribbled with make up. It was a sight that should have made my heart stop, yet something about my tormentor had been oddly familiar.
In a desperate panic, I lunged for my phone, dialing the first number I could. It quickly pounced on me and slammed me onto the ground, pinning me by my neck. In the struggle, my phone managed to dial the last number that contacted me - my father. I felt a heavy vibration coming from the pocket of the thing that had attacked me. It pinned me down with one hand while reaching below its waist line, pulling out a cell phone. It answered, and what I heard made my heart stop at an instant. A familiar voice that I had grown to love since birth said,
"Dad can’t come to the phone right now, but never forget that… Mommy Loves you."