"Society wants to believe it can identify evil people, bad people, or harmful people. But, it's not practical. Sometimes, there are no stereotypes, there's just evil."
-Ted Bundy, serial killer of 30+ victims.
Sometimes, Wattpad authors are inspire...
Dedicated to Heather_Dianne for the amazing cover!! <3 ********************************
Sophia exhaled softly, toying with a strand of her blonde hair. It wasn't hard to realize she could be babysitting in a worse home. Even though the Summers were renting in a semi-nice neighborhood, their own home was by no means spectacular. Simple and an eyesore were adjectives commonly used by Mrs. Summers to describe the unappealing home. The Summers lived in a simple four-bedroom, two-story home. They transformed a den and living room into extra bedrooms for their large family, but their home was still the tiniest on the block.
The Summers' house was indeed not the nicest by any means. In contrast, Daniel and Jenny Bradshaw's place was the exact opposite. A spectacular three-story house took residence upon the large lot where their lovely house sat. Sophia quickly realized that this house made the Summers look like paupers in comparison. The Bradshaws home was very large and very museum like on the outside. Sophia could only imagine what the inside looked like. If Mrs. Bradshaw kept the inside as neat and magnificent as she did on the outside, it was sure to be impressive. "Look at the bright side Soph, you're probably going to come out with some nice money," said Alex, rinning. Sophia pulled out of her thoughts. She nodded while considering her sister's words. It was true; the Bradshaw's had a lot of money to spend on things; mainly, their love for old-fashioned cars along with formula racing cars. The family owned a very large trailer in their driveway that consisted of all-things racing related. Their very large garage - that was the size of a house itself - consisted of old fashioned impala's and spare parts from what Sophia could tell when the neighbors opened their garage.
"Still, I can't believe mom and dad are making me do this," Sophia pouted. In a way, she knew she was complaining for nothing. Jenny Bradshaw was even talking of paying fourteen-dollars an hour. Sophia couldn't really complain when she'd be getting so much; it was more than her elder brother and sister's current full-time jobs were paying!
"At least the kids are older and you wont have to worry about watching toddlers," Colin said, sipping on his can of soda.
This was another well-made point. No toddlers meant no messes while feeding them, and no poop. Things were always great when you didn't have to worry about poop when babysitting. Sophia had probably been overthinking this job. It was going to be a heck of a lot easier than watching the Thompson family one street over. She and her siblings had officially declared the toddler and the one baby that lived there poop monsters.
"Good luck," Alex yawned, making her way back inside the house. Sophia resisted snorting. She could already bet her older sister would be sitting in her room typing away on her computer all night. That was how the young author typically spent her Friday nights anyway; writing or reading.
"Worse comes to worse, you can always flee back home if the kids end up being weirdos," Colin nodded seriously, sparing Sophia a wave as she made her way across the long front yard towards the neighbors general direction.
The teenager honestly had no idea if the kids were weirdos or not. It wasn't as though her family conversed with the neighbors on a regular basis. They barely knew the individuals minus the husband one day popping over to introduce himself as Dan. A few days later, his wife Jenny delivered a small loaf of sugar-free, fat-free, and gluten-free banana bread. Suffice to say, it wasn't a delicious treat. It wasn't until Sophia was well across her yard and into the Bradshaw's yard before she noticed someone was looking at her. She developed that odd feeling where you could sense someone was watching you even though there was no one there.
Sophia cautiously looked around before she spotted the eyes upon her; someone was upstairs on the third-floor of the house. She could only make out the silhouette of someone standing next to the window before they removed themselves upon Sophia's gaze.
As her eyes diverted from the window, Sophia gave a startled hop realizing someone was suddenly right in front of her. A nervous giggle escaped her. "Sorry Mrs. Bradshaw, I didn't see you there."
"That's all right," the middle-aged woman waved airily. "So, are you excited?"
Sophia was as excited as one could be at the prospect of babysitting near strangers. "Absolutely," the teenager lied with ease.
"Great," the woman said, leading the way towards her back door. Sophia mentally noted the woman seemed to dress in clothes not-quite appropriate for a woman of her age. Jenny Bradshaw wore a - very - tight forest green colored skirt and a black shoulder-less top where the V-neck reached far past her chest and almost to her belly button. Sky-high black heels covered her feet and looked uncomfortable to walk in. "Mr. Bradshaw and I haven't had the opportunity to go on a date night in ages," Jenny gushed, toying with her glossy red hair as she walked.
Everything about the woman seemed as fake as her husband's smile in Sophia's opinion. There was just something that seemed too staged of dressing in scantily clad clothes and constantly fixing her hair. Sophia brushed off the mean thought. This was probably something she just thought of due to her sister Alex's occasional remarks regarding the 'weirdo's next door'. If Sophia wasn't careful she could wind up as paranoid as her older sister was.
"Is that your brother...?"Mrs. Bradshaw asked, suddenly turning and looking as though she was about to strike a pose. Sophia tossed a glance over her shoulder to spot her elder brother was is fact, in the front yard. He was packing up his truck before heading back to his dorm across town. "I'll just go say hello," Jenny said as she started addressing attention to her cleavage area. Sophia's grimace was noticed as the woman hurried over. Jenny's pace made her heels click furiously across the cement. Click. Clock. Click. Clock. Click-click, clock. She looked to be near running.
"And I'll just let myself in...?" Sophia muttered to herself, arching a brow as she watched the older woman hurry in a bid to catch up to Colin. Sophia wasn't certain whether Colin didn't see Mrs. Bradshaw or if he saw her coming and chose to leave quicker. Either way, Colin quickly pulled out of the driveway, his small car zooming down the street.
"He didn't see me!" Mrs. Bradshaw giggled childishly, waving to Sophia across the yard.
Sophia awkwardly waved back, momentarily thinking her sister might not have been entirely inaccurate with branding the neighbors as weirdos. By the time Jenny managed her awkward walk back over, Sophia noticed how the older woman seemed downcast she did not get to speak with Colin. "I suppose I'll show you around," said Mrs. Bradshaw, now looking annoyed.
Sophia provided an awkward shrug, not really knowing how to deal with this. The older woman was supposed to be gearing up for date night with her husband; why did she look so let down that he didn't get to speak to Sophia's older brother? It was cringe worthy.
As soon as Mrs. Bradshaw entered the house - after rudely not holding the door open for Sophia before it slammed shut - she started doing a very quick tour of the home. Mainly, her tour consisted of pointing in different directions and saying a certain room was that way. The bathroom was to the left hallway and then the second door on the right. The living room was down two rooms. The kitchen was towards the direction of wherever the heck the woman's double-jointed pointer finger was directing. Sophia couldn't really tell and thought it rude to ask.
"Tommy will be gone most of the night, he'll be back around ten," said Mrs. Bradshaw, not bothering to pay Sophia attention as she toyed around on her cell phone. She was quiet after that, not contributing anything else to the tour or knowledge of her children.
Sophia had to look away as the older woman sat down. She was very inappropriate with her posture; the woman took a seat on a large stool while wearing a short dress, not crossing her legs as she allowed everything to hang out in the open. "What is the name of your younger son...?" Sophia asked politely, not daring to look back at the woman for fear of what she could see hanging out in such a wrong position.
"Blake, he'll be the one you're watching," Mrs. Bradshaw yawned, still typing away on her cell phone. She giggled childishly as she received a text from someone. I-miss-you-too she mouthed towards the phone.
Even as Mr. Bradshaw entered the room and greeted Sophia, nothing more was said about the children. He started animatedly talking about a trip he was taking going racing this weekend. Mrs. Bradshaw rolled her eyes as if annoyed of his topic of conversation. The couple was then busy lightly squabbling what restaurant they were attending while Sophia momentarily glanced up to find a teenage boy was watching her. He was three-floors up from the foyer, looking down at Sophia before he moved himself back into the darkness.
"Er, I thought your son Tommy wasn't home...?" said Sophia, still watching where the boy had been.
"He isn't," Mrs. Bradshaw answered as if this should have been obvious knowledge.
"There's a teenage boy upstairs."
"Well of course there is," the woman laughed openly at Sophia. "That's Blake, our youngest."
Sophia's brows knitted together out of confusion. The teenager would be the first to admit she didn't pay much attention to the neighbors. There were her sister Alex's observations and what not, but Sophia didn't really pay them much -if any- attention. She thought she knew the three Bradshaw children by glances across the yard. The college-aged one, the middle-school-aged one, and, the youngest.
"I thought your youngest was in Elementary school?"
Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw didn't seem to be paying her much attention as they collected their coats, wallet, and purse respectively. They seemed to be too busy arguing than actually invested in answering Sophia's question. "Our youngest is fifteen, Sophia, is that a problem?"
Sophia mentally felt Mrs. Bradshaw's tone was unnecessary given the innocence of her question, but not being one for conflict, she ignored it. "No problem at all."
Even as the Bradshaw's departed, young Sophia was left with more questions then answers. Her only one she truly wanted answered was rather simple; why did the Bradshaw's need a babysitter for their fifteen-year-old son?
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