This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Trick_Juggernaut135 on 2024-11-06 05:02:15+00:00.

When my wife and I had our first baby, we didn’t think twice about getting a video baby monitor. It gave us peace of mind to be able to check on her from bed, especially during those first few months when sleep was a luxury. It worked fine, a little fuzzy here and there, but reliable. At least, that’s what I thought—until a week ago.

One night, around 2 a.m., I woke up and decided to check the monitor. The screen was unusually static-filled, but I could still see our daughter, Rose, lying in her crib. Her tiny chest was rising and falling, and I felt that rush of relief, knowing she was okay. But as I was about to put it down, something in the bottom right corner of the screen caught my attention.

There was movement. Just outside the frame, almost like someone was… standing there. I could only make out a faint shadow, but it looked like the figure was facing the crib. My first thought was that I was just tired, seeing things, so I rubbed my eyes and stared at the screen again.

The shadow was gone, but there was something new: faint text on the screen, barely visible through the static. I thought maybe it was a glitch, but as I squinted, I could make out the words: “Can you see me?”

My stomach dropped. I stared at the monitor, trying to make sense of it, telling myself it was just a trick of the light, maybe interference from another device. I was about to set it down when Rose suddenly stirred, her little legs kicking. The static faded just enough that I could see her eyes open slightly, looking… somewhere past the crib, as if she was staring right at someone standing next to it.

I flew out of bed and rushed to her room. I opened the door, flipped on the light, and found her lying in her crib, looking up at me, wide awake. I checked every inch of the room, feeling ridiculous but unable to shake the feeling that someone had been there. I found nothing.

The next few nights were quiet, and I convinced myself it had been some weird technical issue. But then, last night, something happened that I still can’t explain.

It was 3 a.m. this time. The monitor was already on my nightstand, so I grabbed it, not fully awake, just doing my usual check. At first, everything looked fine, but then I saw the static start to thicken, almost like smoke, swirling around the crib. My heart began to pound, but I kept watching, too afraid to look away.

Then, clear as day, I saw it: words again, like they were burned into the screen.

“Why did you move me?”

My skin went cold. I hadn’t moved her. Her crib had always been in the same spot. But then something clicked. Before Rose was born, we’d moved her crib from one side of the room to the other, closer to the window.

Trying to keep myself calm, I went to her room and found her asleep, undisturbed. I checked every corner, but again, no sign of anything out of place. I thought about waking my wife, but what would I even say?

Now I don’t know what to think. I want to believe it’s just a faulty monitor, maybe even my sleep-deprived brain playing tricks. But every night since, I keep hearing that same question in my mind: “Why did you move me?”

And I can’t help but feel like we weren’t the first to set up a crib in that room.