THE IMPOSTER
Recently, my husband and I became parents, and honestly? IT’S BEEN A NIGHTMARE! Every time I lay our baby in his crib, he starts screaming non-stop, day and night. I’ve tried everything, but NOTHING SEEMS TO HELP…
One evening, I decided to check on him one last time before bed. When we got to the crib, we FROZE.
OUR SON WASN’T THERE!
Instead of our son there… was a high-tech baby monitor.
It was sitting in the middle of the mattress, playing a recording of our baby screaming on a jagged loop.
My husband, Mark, reached out and turned it off. The sudden silence in the room was heavier than the screaming.
“What is this?” I whispered, my hands shaking. “Where is Leo?”
Mark looked pale. “I don’t know. I put him down an hour ago. I swear.”
Then, we heard it.
A soft giggle.
It wasn’t coming from the nursery. It was coming from the attic.
I grabbed the heavy flashlight from the nightstand, and Mark grabbed a baseball bat from the hall closet. We crept toward the attic pull-down cord in the hallway.
Mark pulled the cord. The ladder slid down with a creak.
“You stay here,” Mark whispered. He climbed up slowly, the bat raised.
I waited at the bottom, holding my breath.
“Oh god,” I heard Mark gasp from up above. “Honey… come up here. You need to see this.”
I climbed the ladder. The attic was dusty and smelled like old wood. Mark was shining his light into the far corner.
There, sitting on a pile of old insulation, was our son, Leo. He was perfectly fine. He was playing with a set of old wooden blocks.
But he wasn’t alone.
Sitting across from him, mimicking his movements exactly, was a creature.
It looked human, but its limbs were too long, and its skin was a sickly gray. It was wearing Mark’s old college hoodie.
The creature looked up at us. It didn’t attack. It didn’t scream.
It smiled. And then, its face began to shift. The gray skin rippled and changed color. The jaw reshaped itself. The eyes turned brown.
In less than three seconds, the creature looked exactly like me.
It looked at Mark with my face and said in my voice:
“Mark, honey, why are you looking at her? I’m right here.”
Mark stepped back, swinging the bat between me and the thing in the corner. He looked at me, then at the creature. He looked terrified. He couldn’t tell who was who.
“Mark!” I screamed. “It’s me! Grab Leo!”
The creature stood up. “No, Mark. She’s lying. Grab Leo.”
Mark hesitated. His eyes darted back and forth. Then, he looked at the creature and lowered the bat slightly.
“You’re right,” Mark said to the creature. “Let’s get the baby downstairs.”
I screamed as Mark walked past me, scooped up Leo, and took the creature’s hand.
I tried to run after them, to stop them, but as I reached the attic ladder, Mark slammed the hatch shut. I heard the lock click from the outside.
I banged on the door for hours.
It’s been three days since they left me up here. Through the vents, I can hear them downstairs. I can hear Mark laughing. I can hear the baby cooing.
And I can hear her voice. She sounds exactly like me. She’s living my life better than I ever did. The baby doesn’t scream for her.
Maybe she’s the better mother after all.
