In real life, Wallmoss Blush could hardly return a 'hello' without wanting to run away and hide. She knew she was far too shy to ever ask a real girl out.
But fortunately for Wallmoss, she had a full-length body pillow at home. She slept with it every night. In the darkness, it was something she could hold on to and cuddle. Sometimes, when she was feeling very lonely, she would talk to it, and try to pretend it was a real girl.
In the daylight, she could see the life-size pictures printed on both sides, that stretched from one end of the pillow to the other. The pillow's front and back showed the matching views of a tough-looking redhead, wearing a leather jacket and matching boots. If Wally ever met the girl in real life, she would probably feel frightened. But on a pillow, where Wallmoss knew the girl would never try to hurt her, Wallmoss just felt...reassured, somehow. Like a big, tough IMAGINARY girlfriend was better than no girlfriend at all.
Sometimes at night as she started to fall asleep, Wallmoss would wonder: if she poured enough affection into an imaginary girlfriend in the form of a body pillow, would she someday get something back? Would a real girl in a leather jacket show up in her life one day? That would be amazing...and it would probably scare the living daylights out of Wally. The mysterious coincidence would be scary enough...but also, it would bring a real life girl, a real person, and that by itself would ALSO be enough to scare Wally into wanting to run away.
If a girl like that ever really appeared, what would Wallmoss do?
But that would never happen, right? A body pillow can't become a real girl.
But if the pillow ever did, Wallmoss already knew what to call her. When the cuddle pillow was completely new, Wallmoss had looked at the red and yellow streaks in the pictured girl's hair, and the sun symbols on her shirt and boots, and a name seemed to appear in Wallmoss's mind.
Sunrise.
***
One night, when Wallmoss was getting ready for bed, she noticed something about her body pillow. It looked like the pillow's bust had grown slightly.
Wallmoss laughed. It must be something about the way she held and squeezed the pillow every night, while she was sleeping. The pressure must have moved and reshaped the stuffing inside, so the picture looked a little less flat, a little more real.
But wouldn't it be wonderful, if the imaginary girl was soaking up Wallmoss's lonely feelings, her affection and dream love, and starting to become real?
Wallmoss shook her head at her own silliness, turned out the light, and got into bed.
She hugged her full-length pillow just the same as any other night. The pillow was every bit as comfortable. Maybe even a little more comfy than before.
With all the cuddling and squeezing, Wallmoss thought, we must be starting to really fit each other. A matching pair.
***
A few days later, Wallmoss rummaged up a flexible measuring tape, and wrapped it around her body pillow at the bust. Thirty-three inches. That seemed like a good, normal size for a body pillow. She laughed at herself for bothering to measure, and put the tape away.
***
Three days later, Wallmoss remeasured. Thirty-four inches. Was this just a normal measuring error? It must be easy to accidentally place the tape a little differently from the time before. Or had sleep-Wallmoss's squeezing reshaped the pillow a little more?
It didn't mean anything. It meant the pillow hadn't changed enough to mean anything! That was all it meant.
As Wallmoss dropped off that night, she murmured to her imaginary girlfriend, "You aren't really growing, in real life, or not enough to matter. I checked. But wouldn't it be amazing, if you were?"
***
That Friday night, when Wallmoss was half asleep, she imagined the unreal girlfriend on her pillow was returning some of Wallmoss's own body heat. It felt a little like cuddling a real girl must feel.
Wallmoss awoke in surprise. She leaped out of bed, turned out the lights, and stared at her pillow. It looked exactly the same as before.
Or was it?
Wallmoss found the measuring tape, and measured the pillow's bust size. Thirty-six inches.
That didn't mean anything, right? If you squeeze a pillow night after night, the stuffing must get moved around. That's just...science, right? And common sense! Nothing weird about that at all!
Wallmoss looked the pillow girl in the eyes. Something about the girl seemed to be laughing at her. The pillow's face seemed to be saying wordlessly, you wanted a girl to hold every night, right? Someone to keep you warm? So now that I seem a little warmer when you hold me, why are you acting so shocked? Aren't I exactly what you wished for?
Maybe she IS what I wished for? No, I'm just imagining things. But as long as I know I'm just imagining, I know the pillow isn't a real girl...that's fine. I heard somewhere...or did I read it? "There's no wrong way to fantasize." Fantasies are harmless, as long as you know they aren't real. So it's ok. Really it is!
Wallmoss went back to bed, and hugged her body pillow. She imagined the pillow was a little warmer than last night. But she knew she was just imagining it, so it was ok.
***
A few nights later, as Wallmoss was falling asleep, she imagined she felt her body pillow girlfriend slowly breathing in Wallmoss's arms.
"No!" Wallmoss said aloud. "This can't be!" She jerked back from her pillow girlfriend, releasing her hold. After a moment, she reached out gingerly with one hand, and poked the pillow.
No response. Of course not! She wasn't a real girl! She was a pillow, for goodness' sake. But it's ok to imagine things when you're half asleep. It's fine. It's perfectly normal, to start dreaming when you're tucked into bed, and already falling asleep.
Wallmoss relaxed. She wrapped Sunrise in her arms again. When Wallmoss seemed to feel the slow movement of a printed pillow girl's breathing, she knew it only meant she was already partway asleep. So it was fine. It meant she was doing exactly what she should be doing, to get a good night's rest.
Wallmoss fell asleep smiling, stroking her girlfriend's printed hair.
Author's Note
If you just wanted a cuddlefic but NOT a horror story, you can stop reading now! 
I mean it!
Every night that week, Wallmoss fell asleep with Sunrise in her arms, relaxing to the rhythm of the redhead's slow breathing. It was very peaceful, and comforting, and really the best thing ever.
***
Next Monday, in the middle of the night, Wallmoss woke up. "What is it?" she asked. "Why did you poke me?"
Did something really poke me? Wallmoss asked herself. Or did I just imagine it? I probably dreamed it.
Wallmoss moved her hands up and down the pillow, feeling for any irregularities that she might have poked herself on in her sleep. She thought, if Sunrise was like a real girl, Wally was acting very fresh indeed! She giggled, as she squeezed Sunrise's thighs and buttocks, and stroked her stomach and back. Wallmoss squeezed Sunrise's breasts.
Wow, Wallmoss thought. Those are really big.
The real girl got out of bed, turned on the lights, and measured Sunrise's chest. Forty-nine inches. If that girl gets much bigger, maybe she won't be able to ride her motorcycle anymore. (Wallmoss often dreamed about Sunrise riding a big, noisy, throbbing motorcycle. Sometimes, Wallmoss even rode behind her, holding on tightly.)
This is crazy, Wallmoss thought. I have a girlfriend who isn't even real. And even though she isn't real, she's growing a bigger chest than I have.
Wallmoss checked her own chest. At least MY chest doesn't seem to be any different. So I'm not sleeping with some kind of...chest-stealing chest vampire. Chestpire? She snorted. I am being SO ridiculous. No matter what shape I squeeze a pillow into, as long as I'm happy and I sleep well, and I know what's real and what's just imagination, everything's fine, right?
Chest vampires aren't real, Wallmoss! Go back to bed, and get some more sleep.
Wallmoss turned off the lights again, and crept back into bed. She wondered, should I kick Sunrise out of bed, just for peace of mind? Just to prove I know she really is imaginary, and she won't have her feelings hurt?
But Sunrise felt so nice in Wallmoss's arms, absorbing Wallmoss's own warmth and returning it back to her. This is fine, Wallmoss thought. No, this is perfect. She fell asleep, dreaming of Sunrise's body slowly moving against her.
***
Daylight shone brightly upon Wallmoss's face. She felt her girlfriend's warm body moving on the bed beside her.
"Morning, Sunrise," Wallmoss said. She felt her girlfriend's slow...writhing?
What kind of girlfriend writhes?
Wallmoss jumped out of bed, screaming, shoving Sunrise away as hard as she could.
Sunrise fell on the floor. A seam burst open. A mixture of fluffy stuffing and squirming maggots flopped out through the gap.
"No!" Wallmoss screamed. "Sunrise was full of...MAGGOTS?"
The maggots writhed in a regular rhythm. Wallmoss recognized the rhythm of Sunrise's breathing, late at night.
"No. This can't be happening. NO!"
Wallmoss went to the bathroom, put on the biggest, toughest-looking, longest rubber gloves she could find, got all the cleaning supplies, and returned to her bedroom. She picked up handfuls of mixed stuffing and maggots, and threw them into a wastebasket.
"Oh, holy...I am going to have to throw away EVERYTHING. I wish this had never, ever happened. After I hose down this room with a flamethrower, and make everything absolutely clean no matter what it takes, I want to forget it all, and then I want to forget that I forgot."
Wallmoss wrapped up the 'Sunrise' body pillow in the largest size of trash bag she had, and sealed the bag shut. She wrapped the sealed trash bag in ANOTHER bag, and sealed that shut too. She was thinking about a third and fourth trash bag, when she noticed something odd in the wastebasket where she'd thrown the horribly contaminated stuffing.
There was a little envelope. Wallmoss's gloved hands opened it. She found a note, in her own handwriting.
The note provided exact instructions for efficiently and completely cleaning maggots out of a carpet, and out of a bed, and washing them out of any kind of fabric or sewn goods, until you would never know they'd been there.
That seemed...helpful?
On the next page, Wallmoss found instructions for how to obtain maggot eggs and sew them into a body pillow in just the 'right' way, so the moisture of someone sleep-drooling or crying on the pillow would make them hatch.
What the fuck?
After that was a recipe for selectively erasing some of a person's memories, using drugs and a "magic stone." Weird. Could anything like that really work?
The note ended with, "I know the very ending of what you just went through was horrible. But you also got to spend weeks feeling like your imaginary girlfriend was slowly turning real, while you cuddled her every night. Didn't those weeks make it all worth it? Didn't they, really? Finally feeling that you weren't all alone?"
"I'm thinking," Wallmoss said.
Author's Note
Sometimes I write dark comedy. Usually not THIS dark, though.
Gelatino (offprint, fimfiction.net) said,
Creepypasta where you notice the drawing of an anime girl on your body pillow is slowly increasing in bust size
and
Go ahead, I didn't get this idea from anywhere, you can credit me for the prompt
