Caring for Raymond

New Plans and New Burdens.

The familiar Mario power-up sound plays off my phone and the screen lights up with a message from my mother. "Vivi, thr is a new fmily in twn. I met the mom @ choir prctice. U will bbysit 4 them whle they go on vacay!" I swear my mom texts like a 5 year old. But I don't say anything back because the news she has brought me will get my dad to stop complaining about me not doing anything. My parents can't get the fact through their skulls that a 15 year old, 4'8, geek with her bangs dyed purple isn't going to have friends. And even if I was to have friends, I would gladly play "DOTA 2" or "World Of Warcraft" before I even consider putting up with the narcissistic, "in the moment" douchebags I'm surrounded by. I always say shit about my parents but I worry about them because they worry about me. As a child, I would sneak into their room to find Christmas gifts. But all I would ever find is dozens of books filled with propaganda titled "How to parent teens 2014" or "Dealing with your child's emotions." They are caring so much about how I will turn out, that they are missing out on who I am now. But I shouldn't bitch about it. It's better for them to care too much than not to care at all. I was getting so caught up on thinking about all of this that I almost didn't notice the door bell. I brisk into the living/dining area and I open the heavy door to see my mom, 2 tall poker faced people, and a small child. "Viviana!", my mother says, "These are the Warners!" I stare into the eyes of the child while my mom is bringing the guests in and I see a flash of nothing but soulless, black, eyes. My heart beats faster than the feet of a leopard but my body moves like a sloth as I stand in shock of the demonic qualities this child just displayed to me. " Vivi, this is Raymond. You're going to be babysitting him! Aren't you happy?" The world stops and I feel nothing but a vague sense of fear inside. "Y-yes ma..." I say.