The Mommy Mimmic

I grew up in a very haunted house. The house had 4 main spirits that me and my siblings nicknamed “the family.” They were your typical nuclear family a mom, dad, young boy and girl. As a child I knew that we were not rich, we weren’t poor either. We had a humble upbringing. Both of my parents worked hard to provide for the 5 of us kids. I always had to share a room with my sisters, not only that we even had to share a bed. As we grew older the 3 of us girls no longer fit in a bed together comfortably. So my parents got us a bunk bed.

We were so excited! It was a red metal frame bunk bed with a full size bed on the bottom and a twin up top. Me and my older sister fought about who would have to sleep on the bottom with our little sister and who would get to sleep on top all alone. It would be closest thing to our room, I really wanted it! I didn’t let up and I won! I didn’t know it then, but that would be a mistake that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

I mentioned before that my parents worked hard to provide for us. During the work week they would get up at 3:00am and be out the house by 3:30am to leave for work. We were in charge of getting ourselves ready for school. One early morning I was awakened to a voice. A voice that normally would comfort me.

I heard a faint “Lala,” being called out at the door of my room. It sounded like my mom, but it couldn’t be. She was gone. She was at work. Not only that my mom rarely called me “Lala.” You see, I’m from a Hispanic household where my parents didn’t really show me much affection. My mom only called me that if I was hurt, or if I did something miraculous to make her proud. Once I again I heard “Lala,” being called out.

I froze. There was enough daylight in room so I mustered up the courage to peek up from under my covers, and at the doorway there she was, “The Mom.” She was smiling waving over at me to come. The image of her is forever embedded in my head. She was glowing in a light blue color, her smile was sinister, her wave was slow motion. I couldn’t scream, I was in shock. My body instantly went cold. My bed was drenched in sweat. How could this entity mimic my mom? I covered my entire body with blanket and prayed she would go away, but I kept hearing her call out.

When my sisters woke up, I let them know what had just happened. After that experience we all slept together on the bottom bunk, even though it was crowded. Every so often after that you could hear our typical “mom noises” in the house. Such as cabinets in the kitchen being shut as if someone were preparing breakfast.

The TV being turned on to her favorite programs. One time my dad stayed home sick from work and he claims “The Mom,” jumped into bed with him. I was so haunted by this experience that to this day, I cannot sleep alone, and I am a married adult woman with children.

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