They are tempted by my temper, because my exotic flair makes it feel like passion, something fashionable, like in a French magazine, since sweet sixteen, and further back, in the fables of my life that I have forgotten, I was rotten to the core, storming through each day with a smile and my rage.
I dream of diamonds, around my neck and down the throats of all those that I dislike, spoiled brat, Queen of the pampered Princesses, running through benefactors for nefarious purposes, never satisfied by their platinum cards and best wishes.
Last night as I strolled through the shopping centre, I saw a little pair of shoes, painted blue for my little one, feeling so blue because they had tightly tied laces and left a taste in my mouth, without my lips even opening. Ghosts were following me again, the things that money cannot buy will always allude me, they never let me live, living in my bones and setting fire to my soul.
There are geese gliding across the rising sun as I recall last night’s dream, boil a kettle that will never be poured, pouring over my seamless, endless era of madness, because I truly want it all. The streetlights switch off, and I switch on the siren waterworks.
I was a fool to think this would end any other way.
I made it an hour before I was spotted. They descended. It felt like the whole world was under her spell, and there she was, striding out from the horde towards me, as they grabbed at me, pulling me to the ground. She wore a sinister smile, and I knew it was all over.
“We let you run.” She smirked, her eyes descending and all seeking to enjoy my fear. “Your hope was good for my baby.” She knelt beside me, laughing as I struggled and placed our hands on my stomach, sending blinding pain through my whole body. “Finally cooked.”
They surrounded me. So many eyes. So many teeth. The pain began to fade in and out as the world blurred and all I could hear was the constant snapping of their jaws.
When I woke up, blood stained the streets. I wasn’t sure what was mine and what belonged to my…
The baby was gone. The people were gone. I saw a few in the distance, shuffling around, like nothing had happened.
I can’t go on. I’m just laying in the street. The whole world seems to carry on, as if nothing happened. They’re sick. They’re all sick.
There is this loss within me. This hole where my heart used to be. It’s still beating, and the blood is still pumping, but I may as well be dead.
I’m trying to find the words to describe what’s been going on, but it all sounds so mad.
I managed to get a few hours of sleep last night, waking up when it was still dark, and I could hear this padding on the floor, like someone, or something walking around, but it was all over the place, like lots of people were gathered in my tiny bedroom.
I reached out for my wife, and again, she wasn’t there. I was afraid to look around the room, because part of me knew I would find her in the same state as she was before, eyes closed, carrying out the bidding of evil.
There was a musky stench in the air. More padding across the floor, and I saw a set of eyes blinking at me in the darkness from across the room.
It wasn’t Lily but I knew she had something to do with it.
There was a crack of thunder outside, then aching silence for a moment. The lightning flashed against the window and I closed my eyes, too afraid to look. I held my hands to my stomach and hoped that I was dreaming, but truthfully, I knew that wasn’t the case. I don’t dream anymore.
I fall asleep and then it’s like I snap back to life, constantly trapped in her games. It’s endless.
I heard a noise, and I had to open my eyes because I couldn’t quite believe my ears. A loud cry from… a goat. A goat? I know what you’re thinking but when I opened my eyes, there it was, a goat, in my bedroom, soft black fur shining under the moonlight.
“He’s watching over you.” I couldn’t see Lily but her voice was strained and seemed close. “Making sure you cook.” The goat trotted towards me, resting his head in my lap and staring up with empty, endless eyes. “Cook fast.”
I just stared down at the goat for what felt like the whole night. I felt his soft fur against my hands, heard his breathing as he slept. I know he was there.
Somehow, I must have fallen asleep. When I woke up, he was there too, but my wife couldn’t see him. She just walked past him, like a goat wasn’t in our bedroom. She acted like I was insane when I talked to her about it. I turned to point to him, but… as I’m sure you’ve guessed by now. He was gone and I looked mad. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
I can’t believe that I’m writing this. This is more than a dream or a delusion, I know that now. Nobody else can see it, but that doesn’t make it any less real.
She came to our flat. Lily came to our home. Nobody believes me, but she was here.
I woke up last night, and she was at the side of the bed, standing over me, all those eyes, blinking and glaring at me. Her mouth was wide open, a gargle escaping into the air as her sharp teeth shone in the moonlight that crept through the curtains.
“Where’s my baby?” She reached for my stomach and I jerked back, trying to push her hands away, shocked as our hands met, and hers were cold as ice. “Give it to me.” I turned to wake my wife, but she wasn’t in bed next to me. I looked around the room, and saw her by the bedroom door. She was holding her front door keys, but her eyes were tightly shut, like she was still asleep. I called out her name but she just stayed in that state, like she was in a trance or something.
“Leave us alone!” It felt pointless to say it, but I screamed it all the same. My hands instinctively went to my stomach. I was desperate to protect my baby. My baby, not hers.
I cried out as her hands landed on mine, and the horrific pain of her grasp began again. Just like during the scan, it felt like she was trying to pull something from within me. I tried to force her off of me but she was too strong. “Not cooked yet.” She snarled, suddenly releasing me. I fell back to the bed, trying my best to put some distance between us. “Faster.” She launched herself at me, crossing the bed in seconds. Holding me down, she forced my mouth open and dropped something inside, it tasted so bitter, burning my mouth and my throat as it went down. I coughed and spluttered, trying to force it away, but it was no use. “Cook faster.” With those final words, almost a demand, she released me, dashing towards the window and jumping from it.
Everything was still for a moment, but then my wife sprang to life, her face painted with confusion.
Again, she remembered nothing. She had heard nothing. I tried to explain, as I knelt over the toilet, trying to make myself throw up whatever Lily had forced down my throat, and as I stared down into the bowl, seeing a dark liquid, I prayed, I’m not sure who to, but I prayed that it was all gone, and that she, or it, hadn’t harmed the baby.
My wife is asleep again. I’m just sat here in bed wondering what to do. I couldn’t sleep now, even if I tried. I’ve checked all the windows and doors, taken all the keys and kept them for myself. They’re just piled up on my side of the bed, and I’m staring at them, wondering if I’ll ever be safe again.
Hello everyone! Long time lurker, first time poster, etc. I need advice about pregnancy, I suppose. I am six months pregnant, and I’ve read every baby book and every page of Mumsnet, but somehow, I don’t think they’ll be able to help me, so I’m turning to you.
I know this will make no sense, but I am certain that I’m not dreaming or making this up.
It wants my baby. The midwife is not a person. I’m sure of it. It’s… it’s a thing. I don’t know what, but it wants my baby. I know that I probably sound like a crazy, hormonal mess, but please hear me out, because this is more than just paranoia or protective mother madness. The midwife wants my baby, and she, or it, is going to destroy it if she gets her hands on it. Nobody will believe me.
My first appointment with the midwife was about eight weeks into the pregnancy. My wife and I were THAT annoying couple who go in with a long list of questions but the midwife didn’t seem to mind. She was patient, answering all of our ridiculous questions and reassuring us that she would be with us every step of the way.
I came away from the appointment feeling confident, which I definitely needed, with this being my first baby. It all seemed so normal at the start. We’d go to our appointments, we’d have a cup of tea and a catch up. Lily (that’s the midwife) was so friendly and I think we both really needed that. Having a baby had been a real struggle for us. The first and second IVF session had left us disappointed, and it was only on the third that we got anywhere, so we were feeling a little fragile, and Lily always seemed able to help.
Things started to get weird at around eighteen weeks. We went in for our appointment, and we were excited because we’d be having an ultrasound, and when you’ve wanted a baby so desperately, any chance to look at it, even for a few minutes is a major event. I was too nervous to drink anything but my wife had some tea with Lily, and then we began preparing for the scan.
As Lily moved the probe across my stomach, she wouldn’t stop smiling. At first, that seemed pretty standard. Maybe she just liked her job? She stared at the screen, smiling at the baby, and again, that seemed pretty standard to me. I was doing the same, but then, as I was lost in hypnosis, staring at my little miracle, I began to notice a strange feeling on my stomach, like I was being poked or prodded. I turned to look, and Lily was absent mindedly rapping her fingertips against my skin.
“It’s a song for the baby.” She muttered, seeming to notice that I had noticed. “Sleep little one…” I got the feeling she wasn’t talking to me. “Grow big and strong for me.” I couldn’t understand why at the time, but her behaviour made me nervous. I tried to relax and put it out of my mind, but that one moment kept playing in my head for the rest of the appointment.
God, I wish I’d listened to my instincts and asked for someone else.
On our most recent check up (twenty six weeks), things got even worse.
During the ultrasound, she was being weird again.
She was muttering and whispering, tapping madly as she rubbed the gel across my stomach, and as the probe connected with my skin, I felt this sudden surge of pain, like something inside of me was being ripped out.
I started screaming, from pain and from panic, asking over and over what was happening. My wife was yelling too, rushing to my side, asking questions.
The pain suddenly stopped as Lily dropped the probe, and I fell back against the bed, sweating and shaking.
She then made my wife leave. I don’t mean that she asked her, she physically dragged her from the room, pushing her out of the door and locking it as she stepped back in.
I could hear my wife on the other side, calling out to me, but I felt too tired to move. I couldn’t understand what was happening. Lily stood at the door for a moment, her eyes glazed, a quiet hum escaping her lips, the same melody she has been playing against my skin, and then she ran, right towards me, her face morphing into a gaunt, haunting smile as she approached the bed.
“Let’s meet this baby.” She grabbed the probe, pushing it against my skin so hard that I thought she’d break through. I tried to push her away but couldn’t find the energy. The pain hit me again, my body felt like it was being torn apart and she was humming the melody again, tapping it against my searing skin. “Come out my child…”
I was a mess of tears and horror. I couldn’t move, held down by the agony. The banging on the door and my wife’s voice began to fade, and for a moment, I thought I was going to die.
Lily climbed onto the examining table. I couldn’t stop her, she was right on top of me. Jamming the probe against my skin, she began chanting in some strange language, her voice was gravelly and to my horror, her face was changing, her eyes seemed to melt down her skin, forming new eyes. Four, then six. All of them blinking madly at me. I tried to scream, but my throat was frozen. Her mouth was wide, with an impossible amount of teeth, and her hair was wild, billowing behind her.
Then, it stopped.
It all suddenly stopped. It was like a light had switched on and she was normal again. A human. I couldn’t believe it, but I know what I saw. She pulled the probe away, sighing deeply. “Not cooked yet.” She used a paper towel to wipe away the gel on my stomach, as if nothing had happened. I wanted to ask questions, but I didn’t know where to start. There was no more pain, but the apprehension still lingered, coursing through my body.
She gave an excuse about me being anxious when my wife finally entered the room, and she… she just seemed to believe her. I pleaded with her all the way home to listen to me, but she agreed with Lily. I was “stressed” apparently. She started talking about this new routine Lily had given her for me, but… I hadn’t seen them talking about it. Apart from when she was locked out, my wife had been by my side the whole time. At no point did Lily mention this new routine. My wife remembered a conversation with Lily that she hadn’t actually had.
She couldn’t remember the screaming. She couldn’t remember being locked out of the room. I asked her so many times, but all she could remember was a normal appointment, and that Lily was worried about my stress levels.
She started babbling on about how Lily had given her some “relaxation” tea for me, and that I’d be taking it every day, but I was already lost in what had happened before. I was so sure of what I’d seen and experienced, but it was like every time I mentioned it, she heard me say something else.
I don’t know what to do, and we have another appointment coming up soon. What is that thing? And what does it want with my baby?
I called the hospital and asked if we could have another midwife, but they gave me some bullshit about “staff shortages”, so I’m stuck with her. I don’t want to go back, but my wife is insisting that we have to.
All I know is that it, whatever it is, wants my baby, and she won’t stop until she gets them.