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Idea contributed by a close friend, who asked if she could stay anonymous in the making of this Creepypasta. Editing, posting and writing of the Creepypasta is contributed by sleepylullaby141.

It was midnight. The lunar light from the moon gleamed on my bed sheets, sparkling through the window. I started to uncover the soft, warm blankets when I heard what sounded like shuffling coming from behind me. I turned around but nothing was in my sight. I continued to crawl under my bed sheets, warming up with the fabric of it all.

As if on cue, I immediately fell into a deep slumber, where I found myself having a dream. Behold and below was a figure of pure beauty. I saw a young woman, a few years younger than me by her looks of it, with long, flowing bright blonde hair falling around her back and shoulders perfectly. The body that contained this image who was quite frail and fragile looking, a small, skinny, short figure covered in an oddly torn dress reaching her mid-thigh with stains on it. Blue crystalline eyes stared into mine as she reached out a fair hand out to me. I walked up to her, placing my hand on hers, but what seemed like an invisible boundary like a mirror or a window separated us, and she slowly started to fade away. Suddenly, I heard my mother's voice screaming my name, calling me to come downstairs.

My mum had died years ago.

I could not restrain myself. I woke up in a cold sweat, heavily panting as I swung my legs away from my bed. I rushed down to the top of the stairs and stumbled on almost every single step I came upon. When I had reached the bottom, I saw the surprising moment I had hoped for. Bags were in the air as my mum held the luggage in her hands, a weary look on her face as if she had returned from the trip she had left so long ago for. I ran up to her like a small lad seeing his mother after work like a fool. It felt as if I had finally found the missing link.

I led her to our couch, afraid she may not remember where everything is. I retrieved some crisps from the kitchen and turned off the telly, sitting down next to her. We sat there, not daring to move or speak until she finally opened her mouth, me hoping that it was to tell me why she was here and what happened so long ago.

"Felix, when I had left for California on the trip years ago, I had come across a drunk driver on the road. He was good so far on being safe but after a while I could see that he was failing. He suddenly stopped on the highway as I slammed into his rear bumper of his old car. I met some civilians who guided me on the way home and helped her stay alive after the berk that had crashed into me." She spoke out, her voice cracking and squeaking.

I hugged her tightly again, letting her embrace hold me as her cold hands reached around my back. "I love you, Felix." She cooed as she let me go, a warm smile on her face.

I smiled back and yawned, slightly not wanting to remember the past. I did care about my mum, and I did love that she was back, but I did wish to forget it all and return to the way that life should be. I stretched and blinked. "I don't know about you but I am really tired. I believe you know where your bedroom is still?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes. I remember. Thank you." Hugging me again, I hoped that I would be able to text my shy girlfriend Alicia, but that all came to an end when my mother's cold grip held on to me as I struggled to get away. I glimpsed at her and her face flickered into one of a gruesome image. Her eyes were pure bloody black, blood pouring out of the sockets. Her image was similar to the girl in my dream, being small, frail, and skinnier, having an anorexic look. I took in that look as she whispered, "Mommy always loves you." 
 
That was the last thing I had heard before the rusty, steel knife was thrust into my back, and I blacked out.

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