EVIL GRIN

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When I was 12 years old, I had a best friend named Brenda. After school we always went to her house to hang out. She lived in a big house on the edge of town.
One day, Brenda didn't show up for school. She was absent for the next few days and I began wondering if there was something was wrong with her. After she had missed a whole week of school, I decided to pay her a visit.
I cycled all the way across town and arrived at her house just as it was getting dark outside. When I rang the doorbell, I got a shock when the door opened almost immediately.
Brenda's mother was standing in the doorway, but there was something strange about her. Her eyes seemed darker than usual and her hair was hanging loose around her shoulders. I noticed that she was wearing a bathrobe. The most unsettling thing was the way she was grinning at me.
She didn't say a word. She just stood there staring at me with an evil smile playing across her lips.
"Is Brenda here?" I asked, nervously.
She beckoned at me to come in and before I cold say anything, she had slipped back into the darkened house. As I stepped inside, my eyes strained to see in the darkness, but I wasn't sure where she had gone. Just then, I heard a strange humming sound and followed it into the kitchen.
I found her there, standing at the kitchen sink with her back towards me. The moment I entered the kitchen, she stopped humming and there was an eerie silence.
I took a seat at the kitchen table and waited. She seemed to be taking forever. I spent the next five minutes just sitting there, wondering what was going on.
Then I realized something very odd.
The whole time I had been sitting there, she hadn't moved a muscle. Her back was still towards me and I couldn't see her face. Her hands hung limp by her sides and her head was tilted slightly. Something was very wrong.
I stood up nervously and approached her. She remained completely still. Ever so slowly, I moved around her and tried to get a look at her face to see if she was alright. The sight still haunts me to this very day.
Her eyes were wide open and she still had that evil grin on her face.
I was so freaked out that, I couldn't bear to stay in the kitchen a moment longer. Without saying a word, I backed out of the room and made my way towards the front door. I jumped on my bike and began cycling as fast as I could down the long, winding driveway and all the way across town. I didn't stop until I reached the safety of my house.
It wasn't until a few days later that I found out why my friend Brenda had been absent from school. My parents told me that there had been a tragic death in Brenda's family.
"What?" I asked. "Who died?"
My parents broke the sad news to me and it made my hair stand on end and I was crying from fright.
Brenda's mother had died suddenly and the night I called over to her house, Brenda had been at her grandparents' place, attending the funeral.
Years later, when I was 16 years old, I made a little extra money by working as a babysitter on weekends. One evening, a friend of mine called me and said she knew a family who desperately needed a babysitter. She was busy and wanted to know if I was interested in babysitting for them instead.
She told me the parents were very nice, the pay was good and their 3-year old daughter was polite and well-behaved. I wasn't doing anything important so I told her I would be glad to take the job.
That evening, I went to the family's house and met the mother. Her name was Ruth and she was getting reeady to go out for the night with friends. She mentioned that her husband was out of town on business and gave me some numbers to call if I needed to get in touch with her.
The night went very easily. I made dinner for the little girl, gave her a bubble bath, then got her dressed for bed.
I was around midnight when i heard the front door open and footsteps coming down the hallway. I thought it was strange, because I hadn't even heard a car pull up. Turning around, I was relieved to see Ruth making her way into the living room where I was sitting watching TV.
She never said a word to me and, as she walked past me, I was surprised by how different she looked. Something about her eyes had changed and she was grinning from ear to ear. I felt a cold chill run down my spine.
I knew that evil grin. I had seen it before, many years ago.
Ruth sat at the dining table with her back turned towards me. Her hands hung limp by her sides. Her head was cocked to the left. She was humming to herself.
Ruth? I asked, nervously. "Ruth, are you alright?"
No answer.
"Ruth? You're not alive anymore, are you?"
Silence.
With shaking hands, I quickly gathered my things and backed out of the room. When i got to the hallway, I opened the front door and looked outside. There was no car in the driveway.
All of a sudden, the eerie silence was broken by the sound of the phone ringing.
I didn't want to answer it. I was afraid of what I might hear. For a moment, my hand seemed to hover over the phone. Then I lifted the receiver and put it to my ear.
I already knew who it was.
It was the police, calling to tell me that Ruth had been involved in a car accident an hour ago. She had been killed on impact.
Tears were streaming down my face as I ran upstairs, grabbed Ruth's daughter from her bed and bundled her up in her blanket. As came back downstairs, I had to pass by the door to the living room. I could still see Ruth sitting at the table with her back to me. Without pausing for a second, I ran out into the night, carrying the little girl in my arms.

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