My mom is a seamstress, and she sews my pajamas shut every night so I can't take them off. She says it's to protect me from something that wants my skin.

My mom is a seamstress, so she does the sewing for my whole family. Which is why I'm surprised she didn't just buy my pajamas. But she thinks it's better this way. She sews them to fit just right for me. I always get the softest, most comfortable fabrics. Sometimes there's a cute little logo on it. She also makes sure that they're just long enough to cover my whole body. But every time, when she's done sewing, she sews the pajamas shut. I was really surprised the first time she did it. It was two years ago, when I was 8. I remember it clearly because I was so embarrassed to ask her why. "Mom, why are you sewing my pajamas shut?" I stuttered, staring at the blanket. "Why do you want me to wear a straightjacket?" She looked at me sternly. "Because I don't want you to take it off," she said, and I realized that I shouldn't ask her why. "I know why you want to take it off," she said, and then she stopped. She stared at me like she was expecting me to say something, but I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what she wanted me to say. But I was about to ask her why again. "No, mom," she said, as if I had said something. "You can't take it off. You can't take it off and you can't cut it off either." She stared at me some more, and I finally felt like I needed to say something. But I didn't know what to say. "Why?" I asked. She stared at me for a long time before she answered. "There's something out there, and it wants you," she said. "It wants your skin, so you can't take off your pajamas." I was shocked. What did she mean? But before I could ask, she looked at me in a way that told me I really didn't want to know. "Okay," I said. "I won't." But the next night, I couldn't sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about why my mom sewed my pajamas shut. What was it? What did it want? I lay awake for a long time, twisting and turning. I finally got bored and got out of bed. I turned off the lights and walked to the dresser where my clothes were. I felt along it and found my pajamas. They were still sewn shut. I sighed and sat back in bed. But then I got out of bed again and felt along the dresser for the scissors. I gripped the scissors tightly as I crept over to my bed. I pulled up my sleeve and cut along it. Right through the stitches. The next morning, my mom came in and saw that my pajamas were cut up. I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. "I told you," she said. "It wants you." I finally felt like I needed to ask. "What *is* it?" I asked. She didn't answer. She just looked at me with a mixture of fear and sorrow on her face. I felt bad for asking. But I didn't wear my pajamas that night. She sewed them up, but I cut them up again after she went to sleep. That night was the worst night of the rest of my life. I don't know what woke me up. Maybe I heard a noise, or maybe I felt something. But I woke up and I was terrified. I turned on the light and felt around for my scissors, just in case. They were still under my bed where I had left them. I gripped them as tightly as I could. But still, I couldn't sleep. I was scared out of my mind. I finally got out of bed and turned off the light. I felt along the wall until I found the door, and I opened it. I didn't know what I was doing, but I walked all the way to the kitchen. I turned on the light and felt along the counter until I found the phone. My mom's number was on speed dial, so I just pressed a button to call her. "Hello?" she said. "Mom, I think it's here," I said. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I don't know. But I can feel it." "Oh no. Don't move. Okay?" I walked over to the pantry and crouched down in the corner. "Okay," I said. "Okay. Do you hear me?" "Yes." "Just wait there. I'll be there. Don't move." I heard the door open and shut. I heard footsteps. I waited in suspense for what felt like forever. But then I heard the footsteps stop. Everything was silent. I waited even longer, which seemed impossible. "Hello?" I said. "Mom?" There was no answer. I waited some more. I didn't know what to do. But then I heard the footsteps again. They were slower this time. Heavier. I heard the sound of someone breathing heavily. Suddenly, I felt cold. I felt...naked. "Mom?" I said. "Feel around," she said. "I'm right here." I felt around, and the heat from her breath told me where she was. Her hand was right in front of my face. I felt along her arm until I reached her sleeve. But it was cut off. Just like my pajamas. "Oh no. Oh no," I said. Over and over. I started to cry. "What do you mean?" she asked. "You...you cut off your pajamas," I said. She didn't answer. But before I could ask again, I heard the sound of tearing. I heard her cry out. "Mom?" I asked. I heard another tearing sound, but I knew it wasn't her this time. I finally realized that I was still feeling along her arm. But now, my fingers were brushing against her bone. "Mom?" I asked. I heard footsteps. The heavy, slow footsteps. I was finally starting to understand. "Why...why is it still after me?" I asked. "It's after you because of your skin," a voice said. "And it's going to take it." I squeezed my scissors as tightly as I could, and I waited.

My mom is a seamstress, and she sews my pajamas shut every night so I can't take them off. She says it's to protect me from something that wants my skin.

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