My family is as to close to perfect as you can imagine. We’re well-off, exceptionally loving and supportive, conventionally attractive, musically talented, and totally free of drama and strife. It’s like if the family from Beaver to Cleaver were hip and modern.

I was the youngest and the last in the house after my siblings left for college. My parents loved to turn on home movies when all of us were together again for holidays. They truly reflected our upbringing. You’d never see us arguing in the videos, not even amongst the kids. Siblings fight, but we didn’t. There was nothing but smiles and laughter — just as I remembered it.

The night after this most recent Christmas I was stricken with an unusual bout of insomnia. I’d never before had trouble falling asleep. Even as a baby I slept soundly through the night — or so I was told.

My head felt heavy. A thought loomed in the background just out reach. I felt it scratching against the back of my skull. It was driving me crazy.

I crept into the basement. When I was a kid I’d snuggle a colorful toy rabbit in bed — always falling into a deep slumber when it was by my side. Embarrassed as I was to admit it, I felt that may do the trick.

The basement was the one part of the house that was a mess; in stark contrast to how spotless and organized the other rooms were. Rows of uneven steel cabinets, overflowing with clutter, made it exhaustively claustrophobic. Thick cobwebs carpeted the ceiling as if they were drapes.

It had been years since I’d seen my rabbit, so I wasn’t sure where to start. Browsing the shelves for far too long, I finally spotted its blue ears poking above a cardboard box. They were covered in a thick layer of dust.

Rubbing my eyes, I clumsily reached for the toy. As I was only inches away, a bulbous spider descended from the darkness on a silky thread, brushing against my outstretched hand. A shrill shriek escaped my lips. I stumbled backward and brought several boxes of stuff down with me.

Stars overtook my vision. The back of my skull bounced off the concrete. Dazed, I pulled myself into a sitting position. My eyesight no longer vibrating, I took stock of the mess I’d made.

Better clean this up, I thought to myself.

Without much thought, I began to place items into whatever box they’d fit into: a rusty pair of scissors, a deflated basketball, an old New Yorker magazine. Then, I noticed something very different.

Shining in the darkness, a leather satchel was sprawled onto the floor. Unlike the other junk, it was not covered in dust or grime — almost like new. Nestled inside, I could make out a series of labeled cases. Curiosity rising, I rummaged through the bag’s contents.

One of the cases was labeled December 20th, 2010 — my fifth birthday. Within the case was a DVD. Some had scrawled onto it with sharpie: Deleted Scene #00237

Eyebrow raised inquisitively, I gathered a hand full of cases and tip toed into the living room. I placed the DVD from my birthday into the player. Turning the volume low, I plopped onto the couch and pressed play.

“Shut your mouth you little brat. I’ve had enough of your back talk!” My mom shuffled into the frame. Her face was scrunched with anger. “March your ass over here Lionel.”

A young boy begrudgingly stomped to my mom’s side. He had my brothers name, but it wasn’t my brother — he looked nothing like him. I could see the boy was shaking as he drew closer.

“I hate you….” With trembling lips, the boy spoke barely above a whisper.

Without hesitation, my mom slapped him sharply across the face. Her eyes bulged with rage. All of the background sounds disappeared. The room grew deathly quiet.

“I’ll show you what hate really means.”

She descended upon the boy. Leaning her mouth into his neck, he slumped to the ground. Eyes glazing over, he look directly into the camera before the recording went black.

“What the fuck?” I muttered under my breath.

My mind was struggling to process what I’d seen. Anxiety rising, sleep now a distant concern, I ejected the DVD and replaced it with another.

The video started out shaky and blurry. I could barely make out two small figures sitting at a table. As it came into focus, it became clear they weren’t just sitting — they were bound to the chairs with thick white threads.

“Gillian, Lionel — do you have anything to say for yourselves?”

My father appeared, his back to the camera. He walked with an exaggerated limp. With every step you could hear his foot dragging against the floor.

“Please, please — just let us go. We’ll never do anything bad again.”

Although they had my siblings names, I didn’t recognize either of the kids. This wasn’t even the same Lionel from the last video.

“Let you go? I don’t think I can do that. You stabbed me in the leg — that’s not just something I can forgive. But maybe you can try and convince me otherwise.”

The kids glanced at each other. Their faces were etched with fear. The girl mouthed something silently and the boy nodded in the affirmative.

“We know about the new brother — Ricky. That’s why we acted out. We were jealous; we love you so much and couldn’t bear sharing that love. Can’t you understand that?”

The mention of my name brought me closer to the TV screen. I leaned so close I was practically touching it with my nose.

“I understand; I understand that you’re lying, manipulative little shits. Your mother and I no longer have use for you. Our time as a family has come to an end.”

The children screamed bloody murder as white threads descended from the ceiling and covered their entire bodies. Then, it cut to black.

I was shaken. The foundation I’d built my life upon no longer was solid — it was shifting like the sands in the desert. If I was smart, I would have run out of the house and never looked back — but I had to see more. That unseen thought was still scratching against my skull and I was confident the answers I subconsciously yearned for lived in these recordings.

I started the next recording with nervous anticipation. It opened on a closeup of my moms rotund face. She was smiling unusually wide.

“Welcome to the family Ricky.” My father cooed sweetly.

A chubby boy around ten years old waddled toward my mothers outstretched arms — but it wasn’t me. They were calling a complete stranger by my name.

“I’m sure you’re very frightened right now — but soon your old life will be nothing but a dream. Let me show you who you were always meant to be.” Mom ran her hands thorough the boy’s hair.

The camera zoomed in on the pair. Smiling for the camera, Mom placed her hands into her mouth and stretched her lips until they extended past her jaw. Salivating mandibles extended from the back of her throat. A proboscis suddenly burst forth, impaling itself into the boys neck. It pulsated with grotesque excitement, injecting juices into his veins. After about a minute she stopped, and her face returned to normal.

“Mom? Dad? How did I get down here? I just had the worst dream…”

“You’re sleepwalking again, Ricky. Don’t worry, Mommy’s here for you.”

I was reaching my breaking point, but I couldn’t turn away. There was a secret I hadn’t yet unveiled. Somewhere deep inside myself was a truth desperate to come out — I had no choice but to continue.

“My name isn’t Ricky”

I gasped audibly. The next recording started with an intense closeup of my face. I looked to be about the same age as I was currently — maybe a bit younger. Tears streamed down my face.

“Not yet it isn’t. We need to dispose of this Ricky first, but soon enough you’ll take on the mantle.”

Another teenager was strung up from the basement ceiling, wrapped tightly in what looked like spider webs. He was struggling to free himself, but to no avail. Muffled screams echoed through the room.

“Watch closely my soon-to-be son — this is what happens when you go against the family.” My mom winked at the camera.

She impaled the other Ricky’s abdomen with her mouth parts. He convulsed in agony as he was drained of fluids. His body dried up into a mummified state; I watched the life evacuate from his eyes.

She turned to me and I screamed, unable to move because I was chained to the floor. This time the process was reversed, I was filled with the fluids she had just stolen from the young man now lifelessly swinging back and forth. My belly inflated like a balloon, my feature become rotund — but after a moment I returned to normal.

“Mom? Dad? Where am I? I just had the worst nightmare.” Innocence filled my voice.

“You’re safe now sweetie. We’re here for you.”

I ejected the DVD, unable to watch anymore. Trembling, I snapped the disk in half before crushing it underneath my feet.

The floorboards behind me creaked; I snapped my head in that direction. My father loomed in the archway of the living room, arms crossed with displeasure.

“What are you watching sweetie?” With a sickly sweet tone, my mothers voice rolled down the stairwell.

She was hanging from the wall. Eight limbs protruded from her swollen abdomen, covered with thick hairs. Just as many eyes covered her forehead — each one fixated on me.

Instinct took over. My path to the front door cut off, I slammed into the the living room window, shoulder first, and shattered the glass. Shards rained down on me. Guttural, animalistic shrieks followed me as I fled into the night. Covered in blood, I limped onto the porch of a nearby house before passing out.

I awoke in the hospital. A stern looking detective informed me that I was an assumed runaway from halfway across the country. The police reunited me with my real parents — but I didn’t remember them or anything about my previous life.

Several weeks after settling into my new home, I found myself wandering the basement, unable to sleep. Underneath a dirty tarp, I stumbled upon a conspicuous duffel bag filled to the brim with flash drives. Each was labeled with a different name. My eyes widened as I discovered one labeled “Ricky”.

I plugged the flash drive into my computer. It opened a folder with a short video; I immediately played it.

“It’s truly a pleasure doing business with you. You’re ability to procure children without raising the suspicions of law enforcement is unparalleled.”

My former mother and current mother shook hands. A human-sized suitcase was exchanged, and they walked their separate ways.

I was jolted from my viewing with a slight knock on the door.

“Sweetie, what are you watching?” An all too familiar voice echoed through my room.