Scream

She felt something sticky and scaly grab her ankle. When she looked under the table, she saw hands not connected to a person, though somehow moving. They let go of her foot and started crawling to those of her two year old daughter. Her heart jumped, and she bolted up the stairs, with her daughter in her arms. Looking back, she saw a woman, and screamed. The woman had a look of utter despair on her eyes, which were sunk into her hollow face. Her face, which was tear trailed and full of cuts and bruises. But what made her scream and clutch her daughter tighter wasn't that the woman had a layer of bruises, or that she was covered in puckered scars, it was because the woman looked like her. She slapped herself, hoping that she was in a dream, but the woman stepped closer, and closer. Placing her mangled hands on her shoulders, she said, "Don't worry, it doesn't hurt."