As the last of the sunset's rays kissed the sky good night, little Cynthia was about to do the same. She and her mother were finishing up their nightly bedtime routine: brushing their teeth, getting tucked into bed, and reading a whimsical bedtime story.
"I really enjoyed that one, Mama," Cynthia sang right as her mother closed the cover. "Do you think that Ben and Anna's parents know about all of their nighttime adventures?"
Her mother gave a light laugh while giving her pregnant belly a stroke. "Probably not. I don't know of too many mommies and daddies who let their 10-year-old children travel back in time to medieval Europe -- alone!" With that Cynthia's mother stood up, turned off the bedside lamp, and kissed her daughter on the head.
The last words that Cynthia heard were, "Good night, my love. Please, have sweet dreams..."
The words echoed inside her head until her eyes opened again, and Cynthia magically found herself standing in the foyer of their house. Unbeknownst to her, while her eyes had been closed, Cynthia had entered a dream. Of course, to her, it appeared to simply be another ordinary day at home.
Her dream would swiftly disprove that to her.
Cynthia took a few steps forward, walking through the archway to the living room. There, she found her father laying on the couch, eating popcorn while watching a comedy show on the TV. He appeared to be engrossed in the program; so much so that he paid no attention to his daughter continously calling out to him.
"Dad?..." Cynthia tried one final time to appeal to her father before finally stepping in front of him. With Cynthia now blocking the TV, her father fervently waved his head left and right, clearly irritated at having his show interrupted. Frankly, the irritation seemed very out of character for her father... "Um, have you seen Mom around?"
"She's upstairs, last that I saw," he briskly snapped back.
Slightly hurt by her father's irrational behavior, Cynthia left the living room, thereby finally leaving him in peace with his show. Right as she approached the grand staircase, however, Cynthia could already see her very pregnant mother, standing at the top of it. As Cynthia looked up at her and gazed upon her mother's soft smile, she began to feel a bit more at ease. Now, THIS feels familiar, she thought to herself.
Cynthia continued to watch as her tranquil mother began her descent down the staircase, slowly, almost painfully so... Until her mother lost her footing and started tumbling down the stairs.
Little Cynthia's breath hitched inside of her throat as she witnessed her pregnant mother's body contort into unnatural positions: with legs over her head, and arms whipped behind her back. All Cynthia could think about was the young life inside her mama's belly -- would they...?!
Cynthia rushed back into the living room, terrified for her mother's life. She entered the room where, despite the commotion from her mother falling down the stairs, her father continued to remain completely unperturbed with his bowl of popcorn in lap.
"Dad!" Cynthia screeched, tears of fear filling her eyes. "Mommy just fell down the stairs!!" She whipped her head back to see her mother, now laying face down on the floor, her big belly protruding from underneath her.
However, her father was now entirely absorbed in his show, eyes glazed over, the deadpan laugh track from the TV revebrating inside Cynthia's head...
Desperate and with no one to help, Cynthia ran back into the foyer -- only to discover that her mother was no longer laying on the floor... Rather, she was now standing up, appearing perfectly fine... aside from the terribly devilish grin upon her face...
"Mom?..." Cynthia apprehensively asked.
The only thing the woman said to her, with the same terrible expression, was, "I'm your NEW Mommy..."
Horrified, Cynthia ran back into the living room -- to her father, the man she was meant to turn to for comfort and safety -- but her father continued to lay in his same apathetic state. There was no one for Cynthia to turn to...
How could this have happened? How could her mother fall down the stairs, bruised and battered, and come out as "the woman" standing in front of her now?...
With that smile never leaving her face, the woman slowly approached the traumatized girl. "Don't worry; I'll take care of you now..."
I was actually very excited to see this week's prompt. With the recent theatrical release of Other Mommy (I do not intend to watch), I have been seeing people recall their own experiences with the "other mommy/daddy" phenomena.
For me, my experience was a reoccurring dream during my mother's pregnancy with my younger brother. I would have a dream where my mom would fall down the stairs, "die," and be replaced by some demonic entity who would look and claim to be my mother.