I’ve never wanted children… since I was very young, babies have always terrified me.
It all started before the birth of my baby sister. I was 7 at the time and my parents spent months preparing the guest room for her. I held no resentment towards my unborn sister and at the time, I couldn’t have known what would happen.
It was any other night, I was lying in my bed, beginning to drift off when I heard the sound of a baby crying from the guest room. My parents were downstairs on the couch and I disturbed by the noise.
I listened for a while, a chill running through my being, knowing my sister was still nestled comfortably in my mothers tummy.
I continued waiting as the cries grew louder, hoping my mother or father would hear and come running to check.
I sat in the darkness of my room as a dim light flickered from the stairs as the faint sound of screaming from the television was drowned out by a cry growing more unbearable as it’s whine became broken and strained as it attempted to scream.
I lay there, eyes fixated on my doorway. My skin began to crawl and my eyes widened as the noises became faint for a moment, but picked up in volume. The cries had turned to wailing as it began moving toward my room.
In between the flashes of light from downstairs, I could make out the shadow of an infant as it slowly crept toward my room.
I sat up in my bed, wanting to run, but frozen in fear as it shambles closer, my only view coming from the small flickers of light as the screeching became unbearable.
Suddenly, a shadowy silhouette of a head crept around my doorway. We met each other’s gaze as I was unable to shriek in fear.
As my heart continued pounding and my skin crawled, I could see it’s head begin to shake violently as it’s head moved in further, it’s elongated neck began extending itself toward my bed.
For a brief moment, I felt myself choke up, as I realized I gain control of my body.
I moved back further and began to scream as I was drowned out by my mother downstairs.
Wailing in agony, the shadowy infant slowly crept out and disappeared down the hallway.
Quickly, I bolted downstairs to find my dad helping my mother into the car. He told me with a straight face to get in and without hesitation, I hopped in the back.
We spent the rest of our night in that hospital.
I was glad to be away from that house. Although we were all distressed to find out how close my mother was to losing my little sister.
After the operation, my sister was born a few weeks early, but everyone was excited to meet her.
I decided to tell my parents about the event at the house that evening.
My mother is extremely spiritual and tells me she believes it was an omen warning me about the complications with my little sister. That it wasn’t evil, but only trying to warn me.
There is only one problem with that…
A week later, and it’s much later in the evening. My parents have gone to sleep. My sister is asleep in her new room and I’ve just woken up to the sound of her crying.
I recognize it, so it’s not scary. I wait a moment to see if my parents wake up. They should considering they have a monitor linked between their rooms.
I decide to investigate because the sooner she goes back to sleep, the sooner I can.
I approach her room. An eery glow from her nightlight bathes the room in a pinkish red.
Her mobile turning slowly as her crying begins to turn to soft whimpers.
I approach her crib as the crying begins to pick up again. I begin to caress her cheek as I realize her mouth isn’t moving. Suddenly, a mass below her blanket begins shifting as the crying picks up. The nightlight flickers out behind me as I begin backing up.
The crying begins building on all sides of me in the darkness as shadows surround me. Tiny heads with elongated necks and bloated bodies. A screeching into my ear as I turn to see a head screaming as though it’s being murdered. I curl myself into a ball and cover my ears until the noise makes me black out.
I wake up the next morning to my mother shaking me awake. I passed out on my baby sisters floor.
Since then, I continue to hear crying. It doesn’t happen all the time, but I know to avoid it at all cost if I can help it.
Whatever it’s trying to tell me, I don’t want to know.