A Horror Story by Alexis Feynman
Originally featured on's Creepypasta Cook-Off 2013


I've never felt very comfortable seeing other people naked. I can't really explain why; it's just something that I've never enjoyed.

For a long time my mom tried to break me of that. If something happened, like I accidentally walked in on her in the shower or while she was getting changed, she'd say something like "It's nothing you don't have on your own body." Or, "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

It never mattered to me, though. Seeing somebody's body parts just hanging there, bared for all to see, was never my cup of tea. People told me that I'd grow out of it, that I was just shy, whathaveyou. But I never really did. Even at slumber parties, when the other girls were getting changed in front of each other without a care in the world, I'd get up, go to the bathroom and take care of things in relative privacy.

It started to reach a point where people were giving me trouble for it. You know how it goes. People take anything that makes you "different" as an excuse to make fun of you, shame you, and let everyone know that you don't fit in. Especially if they think it will help you become more "normal," whatever that means.

Before long people were going out of their way to make sure I saw someone naked. My mom and sisters started parading topless through the house whenever Dad wasn't home. Girls at school would pop up in front of me in the showers, personal bits flopping all over Creation. They thought it would "desensitize" me or something.

Instead, I started having nightmares. I don't want to go into detail about them - they were too numerous and horrifying. But that was the turning point; once people started seeing how freaked out I really was, they finally stopped.

Years went by. I grew up, and I got better about seeing other people naked. I guess I had to after I met my first girlfriend. It still wasn't my favorite thing ever, but I learned to live with it. After a while, I started to think: maybe I really had grown up. Maybe I'd finally gotten over my silly kid nonsense and had become a Normal Person.

That was before last night.

Last night, I was drifting innocently through slumberland when I ended up in someplace I hadn't been in a very long time: my mom's bathroom. For some reason I was a kid again, and in a minute I realized that someone was about to get in the shower. I could hear the running water, and feel the hot steam on my face. I heard the click of the doorknob as it turned.

Mom came in, and I cringed for a minute until I realized she still had her clothes on. Good, I thought, I have time to get out of here before she starts stripping. At least, I would have. Until she locked the door.

"Hey!" I shouted.

"Oh, come on," she said. "It's not anything you haven't seen before."

I was helpless. There was nowhere to go, no place I could run to. I had to watch my mom as she pulled off her shirt, and then her thick, baggy sweatpants. Her body had never been shapely, but in my dreams she was massive, and her thighs wobbled with cellulite as she pulled off her panties.

"Help me with my bra," she said.

Oh, god. No. I don't care if we ARE both girls. I did NOT want to touch her back. But I didn't have a choice - she stared at me as my hand brushed the space between her shoulder blades. Her skin was so loose. So pasty.

"Come on, don't be all day about it."

I fumbled with the bra strap, finally getting it undone. It fell off, and I tried to look away before I got an eyeful, but it was no use - she moved with my gaze, pushing her bulging, gelatinous length into my vision until I couldn't see anything else. As she reached up to give her scalp a scratch - and then dug fingers into her hair.

I watched as my mother pulled her skin apart and began to slide it off her body. Her face slipped away as she pulled, showing fresh blood and white bone. Fat and tendons emerged along her neck, shoulders, and all down her body until her skin lie in a loose, limp pile around her feet. I could see her musculature, atrophied and nearly buried by the enormous, custard-like deposits of fat. Her feet touched the ground with a hideous splat, splashing the ground with pale pink fluid as she turned to adjust the heat in the shower.

"See?" she asked. "There was nothing to worry about."

I couldn't take it anymore. Disgust won out and I jerked myself out of there - out of sleep and back to reality. Safe in my own bed, it took almost a full minute for my heart to stop pounding, for my breathing to regulate. My girlfriend must have noticed, because she rolled over and mumbled at me. Her breasts flopped loosely, nude as she was. I cringed.

"Jesus, Lisa. Put some skin on."