“Daddy, I had a bad dream.”
You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness — it’s 3:23. “Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?”
“No, Daddy.”
The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter’s pale form in the darkness of your room. “Why not, sweetie?”
“Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy’s skin sat up.”
For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can’t take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.
YOU ARE READING
CreepyPasta - a collection
HororDisclaimer: NONE of the stories in this are mine, they all belong to the sole writers. I've merely gathered them here for people to read.
