Creepy Pastas and other creepy stories

There's Something Terribly Wrong With My Son

There's something terribly wrong with my son. He is only four months old, but I can still tell that he isn't acting like himself. He used to laugh whenever I made funny faces, but now he just stares at me. He stares at me with a blank yet strange expression. He used to cry at night - just like a normal infant, but now he just lies there, looking at the ceiling from the comfort of his crib. It's downright weird. I'm not even sure if he's sleeping anymore. Every time I get up in the middle of the night to check on him, he's just lying there with that same facial expression, staring at nothing. He stares at nothing that is, until I enter the room. Then he turns his attention to me. I don't like it. I truly don't.
I decided to take the little guy to the doctor's office shortly after this string of occurrences began. As unsettling as the ordeal seemed, I was more concerned than anything else. This was my only child after all, and being a single parent tends to leave little room for me to do much else but worry. Sometimes I wish I had someone to share the burden with. For now, it's just me and him.
Upon arriving at the doctor's office, I noticed that there were others in the waiting room. A mother, her son, and their service dog (I'm fairly certain the mother was deaf). The boy looked to be about three years of age. He looked over at us and smiled, but his amused demeanor was abruptly replaced with what appeared to be a look of terror. He scrambled over to his mom's leg and hid behind it. This is when the dog looked over at us and began barking, wildly. It was the weirdest thing.
The mother managed to calm both her son and dog down and the three of them took their turn with Doctor Harrison. They eventually left, leaving only my son and me. We continued to wait while Doctor Harrison prepared for our appointment. The time that then passed must have amounted to only a few mere minutes, but it felt like a hell of a lot longer. I could see my son staring at me out of the corner of my field of vision. I could feel his eyes piercing through mine, even though I refused to look back at him. I can't explain it, but an odd sense of anxiety began growing within me. Luckily Doctor Harrison came out and saved me from my private anguish. It sounds awful, but I could not bare to be alone with my son any longer.
I spoke with Doctor Harrison and explained everything that had been going on, being careful not to tell him about what had just happened in the waiting room. I didn't want him thinking I was crazy. He performed the usual tests on my son and told me that he was a perfectly normal and healthy baby. He even told me that I was lucky that he was so calm at his age. Lucky? Really? I could not wrap my head around this. No I wasn't, and no, my son was not normal. Normal babies don't act this way. They just don't. I could have ignored the situation and chalked it up to an odd phase that he was going through - one that would hopefully pass in the coming months, but not only did it not pass, it also became much, much worse.
I tucked my son into his crib just a few nights ago and tried my best to ignore the blank glance that he threw my way. I turned off the light and went to bed. This was my normal routine. At roughly three in the morning, I woke up. I don't know why I woke up at such an odd time; I usually sleep through the night - like a baby, for lack of a less ironic phrase. I am however glad that I woke when I did due to what I found upon waking. Well... glad in a sense. There, on all fours, crawling about on my bed, was none other than my son. How was that even possible? I quickly looked over at the crib. It was just how I left it. There was no way he could of crawled out of there at his age. He surely would have hit the floor with a loud thud and injured himself. So how exactly did he get from his crib to my bed? How?
I put my son back in his crib and tried to go back to sleep. I found this task to be nearly impossible as I couldn't get the image of my son out of my head. When he was crawling on my bed, he was crawling towards me. Not only this, but he still had that blank expression on his face - staring at me as he crawled, his eyes never wavering. He didn't blink; not even once. Why was he crawling in my direction? What would he do when he finally reached me? The questions that filled my frightened brain were too much for me to simply go back to sleep. I stayed up for the rest of the night and spent most of it staring at my son's crib. Eventually, my weariness did catch up with me. Shortly after the sun came up over the horizon, I passed out.
It must have been a good hour before I woke up again. After rubbing my eyes a few times and looking over at the crib, I realized something. My son was not in it. I jumped up quickly and investigated. I tossed his blankets around, only to find that it really was empty. He was gone. I looked over at my bed but he was not there either. I turned my apartment upside-down looking for him. I checked every room - every little nook and cranny I could possibly find. While doing this, there was quite a large knot in the pit of my stomach. I could neither tell if I was worried for my son's safety, or if I was just plain scared. Perhaps it was a bit of both.
I finished scouring my apartment and went back to my room to catch my breath. What I saw nearly took it away again. There, lying in his crib, was my son, as calm as could be. I walked over to the crib and just stared at him. He, of course, stared back with that unnerving expression of his. I realized then that I was truly frightened of an infant. I looked at him for a few more moments before speaking.
"...what...are you?"
His eyes widened upon hearing me speak. I cannot be certain, but I think that maybe, for just a split second, my son might have grinned at me.
Credit to: Christopher_Maxim