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| Baby-Sitting Shock | |
| By Snodlander | ||||||||
| 18 July 2007 | ||||||||
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Notes to Mummies, Daddies and other grown-ups who are reading this aloud to your little … darling. The font size in this story is indicative of the volume that the story should be read. The smaller the font, the quieter you should read, the closer to your little … angel you should lean. “You cheated last night!” accused Annabelle. “I wasn’t scared, you just poked me when I wasn’t looking.” “You screamed and I won,” he answered smugly. “I am the Bogey Man, and you screamed for your Daddy like a little baby.” “Only because you cheated! No touching tonight. No poking when I’m not looking. That’s cheating!” “I’m the Bogey Man. I can cheat if I want to. It’s not in the rules that I can’t cheat.” “Don’t poke tonight. I’m warning you. No cheating.” “Okay.” “Promise!” The Bogey Man sighed. “I swear by the Bogey Man Oath that I will not poke you tonight.” It was a dark and stormy night. “Why is it always a dark and stormy night. Why can’t it be nice out?” “Because this story I’m telling you is a true story, and it really was dark and stormy on that terrible night when such horrible things happened.” It was a dark and stormy night, but clearing up by morning with sunny spells and light winds by afternoon. Anne was in bed, sulking. Mum and Dad had gone out again, but after the house had nearly burnt down last time, they had decided to employ a babysitter. She wasn’t a baby, she was six years old. Who needed a babysitter when they were six? Besides, as a babysitter, Sue was useless. As soon as Mum and Dad had left, Sue ordered Anne to bed. No story, no milky drink, and absolutely no cuddles. Sue thought that just because she was a teenager she was better than Anne. But she wasn’t. Anne could hear her downstairs, playing rock music at full volume. She was probably reading magazines with titles like ‘Just Sixteen’ or ‘In Love and Suicidal’. They were probably full of pictures of boys and stories of how to kiss a boy without actually throwing up. What use would she be if the house caught fire? She probably wouldn’t even notice. For a while Anne imagined a little story in her head, where the house was burning down. Sue was trapped in the flames, surrounded by all those inflammable magazines, wishing, oh wishing, that she had been nicer to the little girl that now stood on the lawn, looking in. Anne smiled to herself, because she was blessed with the ability to laugh at the misfortunes of others, or at least when they were imaginary misfortunes. She had just got to the bit where the mayor was awarding her a medal for rescuing Sue from the fire, when she heard the doorbell. Sue, of course, was too busy dreaming of rock stars and marrying a famous actor to hear. Besides, she was playing her music so loud even the goblins who lived in the attic were covering their ears. Oh, didn’t you know that every house has evil goblins in the attic? No? Well, you do now. Anne thought that it might be the police, coming to tell her that her parents had been killed in an horrific accident on the way to their selfish party. Or perhaps it was her parents, who had decided that Anne was just the right age to be roasted and served up for Sunday lunch. Or maybe it was her real parents, who had lost her as a tiny baby, come to tell her that they have a houseful of toys waiting for her. But then Anne thought it was probably none of these things. It was probably something much more ordinary. Or much more extraordinary. And she would never know, because the stupid babysitter was playing her music too loud for her to hear the doorbell. Anne decided to creep down to the front door and peer through the window set in the door. She wouldn’t open the door, because only an incredibly stupid girl would ever open the door to a stranger. But if she could stand on the chair and look out, she could see whether it was her parents or an evil monster wanting to come in. Then it would be Sue’s problem after that. Anne put on her fluffy pink dressing gown, the one with the bunnies on, and opened the bedroom door. As she crept along the dark landing, the light from the stairwell threw huge shadows in which anything could hide. At the stairs she carefully picked her way downstairs, missing out all the creaky spots that could summon the troll that lived in the cupboard under the stair. Oh, didn’t you know that every house has an evil troll in the cupboard under the stair? Well, you do now.
Anne gripped the banister in terror. Who had been at the door? Where were they now? How had they opened the door? Suddenly, the din from the lounge snapped off. Sue’s rock music, that had started the instant Mum and Dad had left, was silenced. Why? What had happened to it? With eyes bigger than saucers, Anne started to edge towards the lounge door. She could see the light spilling under the door, but all sound from the other side was missing. With a hand that trembled more than a jelly in an earthquake, Anne slowly reached out for the door handle. She didn’t want to see what horror lay beyond that dread portal, but she was compelled to find out, as though she were being moved by some unseen force. Pushing the door open with an eerie creak, Anne crept in. There, in the middle of the floor, lay Sue. She was quite, quite still. Deathly still. “Sue?” queried Anne, her voice as tiny as a mouse, as quivering as an icy rain drop down the back of your neck. Sue did not respond. Looking anxiously around, Anne slowly advanced, dreading what she might discover. “Sue?” she whispered, in a voice as rasping as Daddy’s chin when he hadn’t shaved. By now she was as close to Sue as I am to you. She leant over her, like this, trying to see if Sue was still breathing. Sue’s eyelids fluttered, then opened. She licked her lips, as though they were too dry to speak. She breathed a word, so quietly, so gently, that Anne, close as she was, could not make sense of it. “What, Sue? What did you say? I didn’t hear,” whispered the little girl, bending over even lower, like this. Sue swallowed, then said … She said … “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!” Annabelle screamed in surprise at the Bogey Man’s sudden shout, and the Bogey Man danced towards the wardrobe. “Annie screamed for Mummy, Annie screamed for Mummy,” he chanted in a sing-song voice. The wardrobe door closed behind him just as Mummy ran into the room.
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