the voice ⁽ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ⁺ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ⁾

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I was sleeping peacefully, the night was beautiful. I woke up because i felt thirsty and the moment i opened my eyes, the light-bulb exploded. I didn't get scared of course, but i was sleeping with the light on because of my nightmares and hallucinations, it made me feel safe. So i called my mum to help me change it.

"Mum the light is off, can you please help me change it?!" i shouted.

"Of course dear! I'll be there in a minute!" i heard her say.

But then it hit me, mum wasn't sleeping in our house that night. I was home alone. I froze in fear.

"Oh don't worry mum, i will fall back asleep, it's fine!" i said while slowly making my way on the front door. But i dropped something from the table, making a loud noise.

"Dear? Where are you going? Are you going to leave me? Please don't go! DON'T LEAVE ME! DON'T LEAVE ME! DON'T LEAVE ME!!!" She shouted over and over, i could hear the being mimicing my mother coming closer and closer. I prepared to scream, not knowing what i might face.

I turned around, and woke up...

It was a nightmare, it felt so real.

And then i noticed, the light-bulb had burned out, and the door was wide open.

ᓚᘏᗢ- i have no explanation for what had happened. Did i sleepwalk? Was that more than a dream? Was there an actual monster in my house?

I would definitely forget about this, but the light and the door being exactly as i left them in the dream? That kind of freaked me out...

I called my mum right after that happened. She had also woken up, with that weird feeling weighting down her chest as she told me. "I felt like you were in danger, i thought you died."

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ᘏᗢ- I am rewriting most stories to make them more interesting to read. Same stories ofc, but creepier written.

In the deep embrace of night, where shadows merge with the fabric of our deepest fears, there exists a thin veil between the realms of dream and reality-a veil so delicate that sometimes the horrors of our nightmares seep through, leaving us to question what is true. This tale, a chilling account of such an occurrence, begins with an innocuous moment transformed into sheer terror.

Sleep had claimed me, a peaceful respite from the nightmares and hallucinations that often plagued my nights. The presence of light, a simple bulb glowing softly in the darkness, had become a guardian against the terrors that lurked in my mind. But in an instant, that sense of safety was shattered as the bulb exploded, plunging me into darkness.

Instinctively, I called out for my mother, seeking comfort and assistance in the face of this sudden darkness. Her response was immediate, a promise of help that momentarily eased my fear. Yet, as her words echoed in the shadow-filled room, a chilling realization gripped me-my mother was not there. I was alone, a fact that turned the comforting prospect of her presence into a sinister harbinger of dread.

In a desperate attempt to reassure whatever presence I believed was mimicking my mother, I proclaimed my intention to return to sleep, my voice barely concealing the terror that tightened its grip around my heart. The silence that followed was shattered by my own clumsiness, a dropped object that echoed like a gunshot in the stillness.

The response was immediate and horrifying. A voice, twisted into a macabre imitation of my mother's, filled the air with pleas not to be abandoned, each repetition more frantic, more demanding. The entity, whatever it was, seemed to draw closer with every shout, its desperation morphing into a chilling threat.

Prepared to confront the source of the voice, or to let out a scream that I hoped would shatter my fear, I turned-only to find myself waking from what I believed was a nightmare. The relief that washed over me was short-lived, however, as I took in my surroundings. The burned-out lightbulb, the door standing ajar-every detail mirrored the dream I had just escaped.

Confusion and fear mingled, leaving me to wonder if I had somehow acted out my nightmare in a bout of sleepwalking, or if the dream had been a premonition, a glimpse into a terrifying reality that had unfolded as I slept. The possibility of an unseen monster lurking within the walls of my own home sent shivers down my spine.

The need for reassurance, for a connection to something solid and real, drove me to call my mother. Her voice, heavy with a sense of dread, offered no comfort. She too had been awakened, haunted by a feeling of impending doom, convinced that I was in peril. "I thought I lost you, I thought you were dead."

Our shared experience, the alignment of my nightmare with her intuitive fear, added layers to the mystery. Was it merely a coincidence, or had some unseen bond alerted her to my distress? The questions lingered, feeding the fear that perhaps what had happened was more than a dream, more than a simple case of sleepwalking.

The events of that night remain unexplained, a chilling reminder of the thin line between the world of our nightmares and the reality we believe we understand. The burned-out lightbulb, the open door, the phone call with my mother-all serve as eerie evidence that sometimes, our deepest fears find ways to manifest in the waking world, leaving us to wonder what truly lies in the darkness when we close our eyes.

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❝𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞 𝕛𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕝❞creepypasta investigationWhere stories live. Discover now