Scary Stories

In which a girl goes to a house.

The girl was a babysitter. She charged ten dollars an hour for her services. If there was more than one child, she charged five extra dollars for each child.

The girl liked her babysitting job. She was good at it. She had many regular families who frequently asked her to watch over their children. The children liked the girl, and she liked the children. The girl hoped to become a mother one day, and have children of her own to look after and care for.

One day the girl received a phone call from a new family she'd never met before. This family needed a babysitter for Saturday night. They were going out, and would not be back until midnight, and they didn't want to leave their two twin toddlers alone.

As always, when going to a new job, the girl's father drove her to the house and met the parents before the girl was left alone.

The father deemed these parents trustworthy and left the girl.

The girl was introduced to the children, two three-year-old twins.

The parents left. It was five o clock. They would be back in seven hours. The girl was given the instructions to watch the children, keep them alive, put them to bed at eight, and that the television would turn off at ten, so she was free to read any of the books in the study between ten and midnight.

The girl played trains, cars, and dolls with the children. She had them each get out their favorite toys and show them to her. She liked doing this, because then it gave the children freedom, making them feel in charge. After everyone was tired from playing, they watched a movie on the television, until it was time for bed.

At nine o clock, the parents called the girl using the kitchen home phone, to make sure everything was okay.

The girl told the parents the children were asleep, she was doing well, and everything was fine in the house.

The parents told her they would call again before they left, just to check up.

The girl turned on the television, and an old black and white television program started to play, with crackly sound and fuzzy pictures. The girl didn't care much for television, especially old television, but she was entertained somewhat by the television show.

As she sat on the couch, she looked around the room, just now noticing the many decorations the parents had for their house. Movie posters filled any empty space on the walls. Figurines of famous icons and characters from pop culture filled the shelves and mantle. Popular movie quotes hung on the walls in various wooden and metal arrangements. In the corner, a single statue of Pennywise the Dancing Clown stood staring into the kitchen.

Pennywise had tufts of bright orange hair on his bald, bulbous head. His skin was all paper white. His clothes were torn and tattered, adorned with red pom-poms. Epoxy drool dripped down the clown's chin. The girl didn't like this clown, but she knew he had to have been there the whole time.

She refocused her attention to the television.

Two hours later, she was woken up by the phone ringing from the kitchen. The girl got up to answer the phone, still vaguely aware of voices coming from the television.

The parents asked her how everything was, saying they'd be home in an hour, and the girl said nothing bad had happened, though she was a little wary of the giant clown statue.

The parents assured the girl the clown statue was not real, and she had nothing to worry about.

The girl sighed, then was about to hang up the phone, when the parents asked her what the noise was in the background.

The girl said the television was still on. A man's voice was crystal clear behind her, coming from outside the kitchen.

The parents reminded her that the television always turned off at ten.

The girl spun around, only to come face-to-face with a grinning, mumbling man, brandishing a knife. The man looked nothing like a clown. But the girl didn't have time to think of this.

The phone fell to the floor, covered in sticky blood. The hand still held it.

The man turned around, walked out the back door, then left the house.

The parents arrived home and found the girl, writhing on the ground, her right arm missing its hand. A knife wound in her chest.

The children were still asleep, safe and sound, in their beds.

The air smelled of metallic blood.

And static.