WallFlower – Short Horror Story

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I wasn't asleep the night she came out of my wall.

I felt wide awake as I watched the crack begin to form across the wallpaper, slowly stretching wider. A dark substance trickled out and bled to the floor as a hand emerged, then another. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't make a sound. I could only stare in petrified disbelief as a woman crawled through the opening in the wallpaper. Damp hair clung to her makeup smeared face, her skin and clothing dripped a deep crimson that pooled beneath her. Her desperate eyes found mine as she dragged herself toward me.

And then I screamed. So loud and for so long that it made my ears ring and brought my mother rushing in. The moment she flipped on the lights, the woman was gone.

There was no blood, there was no hole in the wall. Mother spent a long while calming me, assuring me that it was just a dream.

"Everything is okay," she whispered, rocking me in her arms.

"Just don't leave me… I don't want to have another bad dream!"

"Listen, I'm always with you. If things get scary, come find me in dreamland and I'll help you wake up."

A few years later, my mother passed away. I tried a lot of things to numb myself- drinking and snorting and shooting and loveless relationships- but they only staved off the despair long enough to trap me with them before dragging me down even further. After a while, the things I used to imagine crawling toward me in the dark seemed preferable to the darkness spreading inside of me. I felt utterly alone and helpless, like I was that screaming little girl again, only now there was no one to wake me from this living nightmare.

And so I found myself in a bathtub. Razor blade resting on the edge. Red water. Heavy head. Empty pill bottle on the bathmat. I pulled my arm from the water and gazed deep into the wound.

I was inside. I was swimming in my veins. Blood flowed so warm over my frigid skin. I closed my eyes, letting it wash over me. I could have stayed forever, I could have let everything fade…

A distant voice.

"…Sweet dreams, dear…"

No… Mother. Please. Help me.

I struggled toward her voice, slipping in gore. Drowning, suffocating. I could see an opening ahead, a laceration large enough to fit through. And then I was free, writhing and gasping on the floor. The girl didn't understand, only now do I. I stared back at myself and awaited the scream that would bring mother to her. Everything happened as it did before. I watched mother embrace her, brush the hair from her face and soothe her.

"…I'm always with you…"

Her eyes found mine, and I realized she'd also been addressing me that night.

"…I'll help you wake up," she said with a sad smile, and I felt myself returning.

submitted by /u/psyopticnerve
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