The Nanny

A tiny garden and a freshly painted door made the house look welcoming and cared for. The heart of the house was the door. It was painted bright red, vividly contrasting against the houses plain white weatherboards and wooden palings. The windows were tinted, like the house was protecting the privacy of its inhabitants. There was one on either side of the door; big and wide, like the eyes of the house. The front garden was miniscule, but flourishing with life. Dark green vines, snaked their way up the pipes of the house, almost like little hands grabbing and navigating their way along the white pipe. Small, well-trimmed hedges grew along the fence and morphed into ancient rose bushes, each dotted with dark red roses, almost the colour of blood.

The new Nanny stood there, on the porch in front of the freshly painted door. Her Polka-dot, pink, black and white handbag was clutched in her left hand and a rolled up newspaper in her right. She wore an intense amount of make-up, hoping for a more mature appearance, and wore her brown hair in a messy knot-bun. She pressed the doorbell with the end of her newspaper and waited, listening as its rhythm rung through the whole house.

The red door opened a crack, then hesitated, as if wondering whether this lady would be a threat to the household. Then it continued to open timidly and warily. The Nanny stepped inside the house, and into the hallway where she faced two skinny and scrawny looking girls. The door closed behind her.

"Hello." She smiled, and patted each girl on the head, oblivious to the fact that the door had closed without anyone pulling it shut. The two girls stared at her, their identically large, extremely pale blue eyes piercing through hers, unblinking. They had the same bob cut and fringe, the same ash blonde hair colour and the same facial features. They were identical twins.

"What are your names?" The girls stopped staring and looked at each other. Mischievous sparks danced in their eyes and moved to their mouths, displaying two bright, almost spine-curdling grins. They had both started losing their baby teeth, two of the exact same teeth missing from their mouths. Canines. They are eleven to thirteen years old, the Nanny mentally noted.

"Mine is Nanny." The Nanny prompted. When they did not answer and continued to stare at her, she unrolled her newspaper and showed them why she was here. They looked at the advertisement, then back at the ladys face, the spark never leaving their eyes. The Nanny shifted awkwardly on the spot, and looked at her watch. "Well, looks like it is almost noon. Where is your mummy? Is she in the kitchen preparing your lunch? Is this why she did not get the door?"

At this, they broke contact, turned and skipped down the narrow hallway. The Nanny sighed. The last thing she wanted was a set of mute and impassive identical twins. She re-rolled her newspaper and escorted down the hallway taking note of the many portraits that hung on the wall. They all had the same people in them. The Twins, swinging on a swing set at the park. The Twins, each holding a red balloon from the annual fair. The Twins, holding hands while sitting on their bed. They wore the same expression in each photo. Mischievous and unsmiling.

The kitchen was modern. It had a white marble kitchen counter with a fancy black tap that arched elegantly like a swans neck. As the Nanny examined the elaborate kitchen counter, she realized the tap really was the shape of a swans neck, and the kitchen counter was extraordinarily spotless. "Hello? Anybody home?" She opened a timber door, and realized that it was the pantry as it revealed a room filled with an endless amount of food stored high and low within the neat shelves along the wall. The Nanny clucked her tongue; it is harder to think of a meal when there are so many options to choose from. She closed the door. "Hello?" Its strange to leave young twins alone in a house, and absurd to thrust them into the hands of an unknown Nanny.

She paced to the living, where the Twins had absently plopped themselves in front of a rather antique television, staring at it like mind controlled zombies. The Television was like one of those boxes from the 1960s. The screen flashed black and white flickering graphic images not suitable for any child under the age of fifteen to watch.

"Now stop that." The Nanny said, and flicked the television off. "Take me to your mum." The Twins moved their heads simultaneously to look at her. Their chin had the same tilt, as they cocked their head to one side. Their way too pale eyes stared at the Nanny, as if surprised that she had the guts to order around another parents child. "Go on."

The Twins stood in sync and they marched out of the room, whispering wildly to each other, their eyes never leaving the Nannys face. The Nanny huffed and followed them, but they had disappeared up the staircase. She went up anyway. If she was scheduled to work here for the coming weeks, she had better familiarize herself with the house.

On the staircase there were more portraits; of other things this time. A cat. A rose. A balloon, they sure love balloons these kids, the Nanny thought. She continued to huff and puff up the winding stairs. They ended abruptly at a single black door. A single door on the second floor? She turned the knob and was met with a dark, seemingly empty room. But you cant tell unless you switch on the lights. Where are those lights? Her arm felt about in the cold, dark room and made contact with something dangling from the ceiling. She tugged at it.

And the light switched on.

It was red. Illuminating the room in a dark red colour that cast wild shadows of stacked boxes, mops and covered cabinets. This was the attic. It was certainly strange to have a staircase leading directly to an attic, the Nanny thought. She stepped over and around fallen objects, and the floor creaked and sighed with every step. The hair on her neck stood up. The room was getting dimmer the further she went. There must be a window, Im sure I saw a window. But there was none. The door slammed behind her, and the Nannys head snapped in its direction. "Girls? Im up here! Hello?" The Nanny called, but her voice was muffled in the wooden room filled with covered and boxed items. She turned back and went deeper into the room. The girls must be up here somewhere. What a silly game. The Nanny shook her head, and a glint caught her eye. She shook her head again and the thing blinked.

She reached out a trembling hand and touched the glittering item.

It was small and hard around the edges. No bigger than the head of a pin. The Nanny grasped it and her hand brushed against something warm and wet. She rubbed her fingers together. Sticky wet goo smudged on her fingers. The Nanny froze. More of the sticky substances dripped from somewhere above her, landing on her out-stretched hand. Her silent scream stuck in her throat as she bolted, running towards the red light, the shadows bouncing and dancing more wildly than ever around her. She wrenched the door open, flew down the stairs past the portrait of the menacing looking cat, its slit eyes following her. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her gasping uneven breaths were making her lungs burn. She dashed past the Twins portraits, making sure not to let her eyes flicker to theirs. The door, she needed to get to the door. Out, out, out!

She turned the door knob, pulled the heavy door open and whizzed through the miniscule garden. It was dark, and the vines looked like they wanted to reach out and tug at her clothes, forcing her back into the wretched house. The rose bushes were a deeper more prominent red than ever, as if they fed off blood. She broke free of the houses wooden palings and ran down the street, the once welcoming houses shadow looming sinisterly behind her.