Chapter 15

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Janes POV (Poppy's mom)

When he had to say goodbye it felt as if my heart had been ripped from my chest. I couldn't stand being there, trapped in the mental ward, longing to be with him. I had never meant to hurt poppy, I loved her. She was my only child, but sometimes when I saw her, my mind would run wild and I wouldn't see poppy anymore. I saw someone else, something else, and I hated the thing I saw.

The night of the accident, I saw the thing that would come and pretend to be my baby standing in the living room watching the television. It stood only inches from the screen. I had always scolded her when I found her standing that close, warning her that her eyes would go bad. It always did things like this, trying to pretend it was my sweet poppy, taunting me, but it wasn't.

I just couldn't take it anymore, so I decided to get rid of it. I walked to the kitchen and I remembered grabbing a knife out of the draw, the cold metal feeling foreign in my grip. The noise had drawn the attention of the small creature and she turned around to see what the commotion was. I slowly made my way back over to where she stood.

"Mummy, what are you doing?" it had the voice of my daughter, but it wasn't her, it couldn't be.

Confusion took over her face as we stared at one another. "Come here darling, I just want to look at you" I taunted holding the sharp weapon tightly behind my back as I smiled, She paused but she didn't move, fear played across her innocent looking face as I took a step closer. Before I got the chance to grab her she took off running. That thing thought it was so smart, but I wouldn't let it get away.

Her screams echoed through the house as I chased after her and before she could make it to the back door she tripped. Her body fell hard to the tile flooring with a loud thud. She scrambled to turn over and shove me away but I already had a hold of her shirt.

I didn't hesitate after that. I held her down by her neck and I stabbed and stabbed until her body went limp against the ground. I had done it, I had killed the imposter, it wouldn't bother me anymore and I could be happy with my baby, with my real poppy. A pool of red seeped it way across the tile floor, forming a puddle around her. I waited for something to happen, anything. If this was the imposter, where was the real poppy?

I looked hard at her face for what seemed like a lifetime, examining each of her features closely.

The bloodied knife fell from my hand as the realization of what I had done sunk in. This child, this lifeless body that lay in my kitchen floor was the real poppy.

I had killed the real poppy.

The front door screeched as it opened, Peter was home from the office. Hot tears rushed there way down my face as I waited for him to find me. His footsteps were heavy against the wooden floor. "Jane?" he called, I couldn't bring myself to answer, I could only sob.

I heard peters steps grow faster, more panicked and before I knew it the kitchen down swung open. I looked up at him, my vision blurred from my tears. "What have I done!" I repeated over and over as sobs erupted from my chest. He didn't answer me, he didn't say a word. He picked up the phone and called 999.

The next thing I remember is being brought here, and I've been here ever sense. Sometimes I felt like I can still see her. Running down the halls, hiding behind nurses stations, playing board games in the day room. But I knew why, it's because I hadn't gotten rid of her imposter and now she was here to taunt me, to laugh at me for what I had done to my baby, to let me know that I lost, and that I would never see my sweet Poppy again.

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