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 Afraid of his own mom

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breakyoudown
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PostSubject: Afraid of his own mom   Mon Aug 22, 2011 5:27 pm

I was nine when I lived in a nice, one-floor house in Maine. We had an extremely large and open basement, but it was just for storage. My room was at the end of a hallway, next to my bathroom and parents' room (both directly across from each other). It was a nice place. I had my friends come over and I'd lie to them about how my house was haunted and all that silly stuff. I never believed in that kind of stuff, though admittedly when I lived in that house I would occasionally hear what sounded like my dad calling me when he never did. None of that is really relevant, because the scariest thing that happened to me wasn't paranormal. Still, those calls never helped my fear.

Anyways, one day I came home from school on a Friday afternoon to find a mess in the family room. Books were scattered everywhere, and my mom was just sitting on the couch, watching TV. I ran up to her and asked what happened. She told me she was looking for something and then told me to go to my room. I was a little concerned, but I just did what she told me to. At this point I should mention that my mother is mentally unstable. I didn't know this at the time, but I did notice her odd behaviorisms before that. She would do a few strange things around the house, like losing things in random places. She had slight memory lapses and started heated arguments with my dad more often. It's not something I knew hot to deal with, and my dad didn't talk to me about it properly until right after this day.

Around 9, my dad called and told my mom he'd be home at around 1 AM finishing some work up. Usually he comes home at 10, and I'd be sleeping by then so I didn't think much of it. i went to my room and started playing video games. Super Mario Sunshine, to be exact. Around this time I heard a thunderstorm approaching. When it came, boy was it vicious. I remember the shelves shaking as the thunder echoed across the sky. I always liked the thunder for some reason. It didn't give me a feeling of excitement or anything. Guess it just brought some life into the night.

This time, it did just the opposite. It killed our power and went away right after. Everything was dark and silent. I wasn't scared. I remember actually getting really mad because I was still in the middle of playing. My mom called out for me, so i went back to the family room. She lit a few candles and put them on a shelf. The room was barely lit, so I sat at a table close to the candles to do some homework. My mom started to watch me. I didn't feel her usual motherly presence though. No, she just stared at me. Watching my pencil move across the paper. Usually she'd castigate me for working in the dark, and I was waiting for that. But instead, she didn't say a word. I started to feel uneasy. I could only see her face through the candlelight, looking down at me. I asked her if she was okay, but she didn't respond. She just watched me. No expression on her face either.

I didn't finish my homework. I was too disturbed to concentrate. I wandered through the dark, away from the candlelight, looking for my backpack to put my stuff away. I remember looking back at her. I saw that same expressionless face through the candlelight staring back at me from a distance. I will never forget that. I kept looking at her as I put my stuff away. As soon as I zipped my backpack up I put it on and started walking away towards me room. I kept looking at her, and I was nearing the hallway, she got up, still looking at me. I ran to my room and locked my door. I didn't dare make a noise.

Almost an hour later, I started hearing footsteps. No doubt they were my mother's. She didn't stop walking for maybe half an hour. The endlessness of it is what disturbed me. The uncertainty of when she would stop made my heart beat viciously against my chest. At that point I had to remind myself that she was my mother. There was nothing to be afraid of. Out of concern and curiosity, I opened my door and came across a dark hallway. I could see the faint candlelight around the corner. I stood there for a long time. I couldn't handle walking through the nothingness of my hallway. I felt like I was going straight to hell. the only noise I heard was the sound of her footsteps. Every step she took went along with every beat my heart made. I peeked around the corner and saw the candles on the shelves at the far end of the house. It was the light at the end of the tunnel. But my mother was there, and I couldn't leave her alone. I went onwards.

I reached the end of the hallway and stared deep into the family room. What once looked so familiar became so deadly. The candles didn't help. They just made the place look not quite like hell. It was a scary heaven. To me it looked like a ritual had been set up, but that was just my little mind scaring me. I noticed through the corner of my eye another source of light that was moving. I looked to my left where the kitchen was. There she was, holding a candle, walking around. She saw me and stopped. Again I just saw her head and collar. As she looked at me, she started talking but not to me. It was to herself. I got the impression though that she was talking about me based on her reaction. She then ignored me and continued to walk around. I got scared and ran back to my room. As I ran, I heard laughter behind me. The short hallway became miles long. She kept laughing, and I kept running. my room was too far away, so I stupidly went for the basement door. I stood on the other side on top of the stairs, holding on to the door as tightly as possible. On one side was my crazy mother talking to herself. On the other was a dark emptiness where nothing resided to scare my nine-year-old heart into a heart attack. I stood there for hours. My grip eventually loosened, and I just sat down against the door staring at the basement. The light switch was downstairs, but I wasn't going there.

The whole night I felt like I was trapped in a hellish alternate reality.

I was still awake when my dad came home. He tried talking to my mom, who just erupted on him. She was holding a candle and was prone to dropping it at any time. My dad could tell by the look on my face how terrified I was. he came to my room and slept on my bed with me that night. The next day, I woke up to the sound of paramedics coming into our house. Turns out the candle blew out and my mom kept walking without it. She fell down and broke her ankle, but she just laid there apparently. My dad called the ambulance just case, because she wouldn't tell him what was wrong. She just yelled at him.

Shortly after she was taken to a psychiatric center. Nothing will ever scare me more than the shell of my mother I saw that night in that fake house.

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PostSubject: Re: Afraid of his own mom   Mon Aug 22, 2011 7:22 pm

That was actually pretty creepy. This one I can believe. It does sound like it actually happened.
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PostSubject: Re: Afraid of his own mom   Mon Aug 22, 2011 11:50 pm

She was just on a bluetooth

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