Short Story : A Simple Thing (aka. The Babysitter)
Such a simple thing. A tiny scratch, and from such an innocent place.
I was house-sitting for some friends of mine who had gone out for the evening. It was their second anniversary and I’d agreed to help them out so they could enjoy themselves for once. To be fair I was more than just house-sitting.
I was babysitting too.
The baby was eleven months old, but I never did get to see her first birthday. She was such a sweet little thing, but she did like to leave her toys lying around the place. There were drawings on many of the walls in cheap crayon and felt tip. They weren’t anything impressive, but it was quite a start to her burgeoning career. Not only that, but she had managed to get hold of the phone earlier, and had taken out the battery pack, leaving it lying on the floor. I’d have been impressed if I wasn’t going to have to fix it up later. If she didn’t become an artist when she grew up, she had a promising future in engineering.
She’d just started crawling a few weeks earlier, so it was difficult to keep track of her all the time. My best bet was to lock all the doors to ensure she was firmly placed in one location, that way I could pretty much relax and catch up on some TV.
My friends had one hell of a DVD collection, so I picked one out that I hadn’t heard of and stuck it into the DVD player. I love horror films, and this one sounded like it might just fit the bill. It was called The Cabin In The Woods, and I hadn’t heard much about it other than half the cast were either antipodean or used to be in stuff by Joss Whedon. That was enough of a selling point for me, so I sat the baby down on the floor to play, then kicked of my shoes and sat myself down to enjoy the movie.
I know what you’re thinking – horror films probably aren’t age appropriate for a baby – but I thought she could take it.
As I skipped through the advertisements, the baby started to crawl around, playing with one of those toy cars that make a rattling noise when you push them. That wasn’t going to be conducive to my viewing pleasure, so I had to think of something to do about it.
“Can you play with that somewhere else?” I told the baby. The baby stared back at me, eyes wide, a trickle of saliva escaping its lips and dripping down its chin. Then the baby crawled out of the living room, pushing the toy car with it.
I settled back down to watch the movie, which looked quite standard as far as horror movies go. All the typical characters were there, and I wasn’t convinced it was going to be any good. But the action kept moving back and forth between the teenagers and some kind of government facility, so I was intrigued to see what happened next.
After about ten minutes, I noticed that the baby had fallen silent. I couldn’t hear the toy car anymore and could only assume the toddler had wandered out of my hearing range. Slightly panicked, I paused the DVD and stood up from my seat.
My foot discovered an extremely sharp toy lying on the ground, and I shrieked with pain. Grasping my foot, I took a look at the damage. There was a mild indent, but no visible wound. Scowling, I looked back up from my pained foot and determined myself to find that child and give it a good hiding.
I stumbled out of the living room and into the kitchen, where i could see a pair of chubby legs sitting behind an open cupboard door. Closing the door, I discovered the baby had discovered a bottle of bleach, and had been gnawing at the cap.
“Put that down!” I shouted, batting the bottle away and grabbing the baby under its arms, lifting it off the ground, “That was very stupid!”
The baby glared at me as I held it in the air, wriggling from side to side, and reaching out for my face. Its nails, which could really have done with a trim, clawed towards me, running against my neck. The pain caused me to drop the baby, who bounced to the ground and proceeded to cry.
My neck was very sore from the baby’s nails, and I dabbed my fingers against the scrapes.
They came away coated in blood.
It was a considerable amount of blood, and I was actually kind of impressed that such a small child could inflict such damage on an adult, but I didn’t have time to remark on the viciousness of an eleven month old, so a walked to the bathroom to inspect the damage.
It was actually considerably worse than I thought; blood was oozing out of three nasty looking lines that ran down my jaw line and onto my neck. My shirt was soaking up the blood at it flowed onto it, but I really needed to do something about this loss of blood before it got more serious. I needed to call for medical assistance.
I picked up a towel, holding it against the side of my neck with one hand as I wandered back into the living room, looking for the phone.
There it was, lying on the ground, it’s battery pack lying next to it.
I picked up the pack, looking at it closely. I’d probably have to put down the towel to put it back in, it looked like a two hand job, so I set to work trying to figure out which way n the battery went.
It took a few minutes to get it right, and once I had I switched it back on, picking up the towel and putting it back against my neck. The screen on the phone started flickering, the word SEARCHING running across the screen. It was taking a long time, it should have found reception by now...
I looked out into the kitchen where the phone base sat, and saw the baby holding the base in one hand while it chewed at the mains cable.
“Give that here,” I shouted, snatching the base away from the baby. She started to cry as I inspected the cable – as I suspected, she’d chewed right through.
Luckily I knew where they had an old phone – and old fashioned one that just plugged into the phone socket and didn’t require battery or mains power. I pulled out a chair with one hand and climbed onto it, reaching for one of the high cupboards that stored all manner of useless paraphernalia.
I looked through the cupboard, finally locating the much needed rotary phone and was about to climb down from the chair when I looked to the ground and saw the baby, both hands on one of the legs, tugging at the chair.
“Stop that! I shouted, but I was too late. Losing my balance as the chair tumbled to the ground, I followed shortly afterwards, my arm slamming into the hard floor and my back swingeing painfully as my head snapped into the ground.
I suspected I now had a head wound to match the one in my neck, and my spasming back was refusing to communicate with my limbs. I couldn’t move!
I lay there, wondering how much blood I had lost, and how long it would be before someone found me. The rotary phone lay useless on the ground beside me, the digital phone just as useless on the counter. I heard a squelching noise, and tried to turn my head. I couldn’t, but as I lay there I saw the baby come into my line of sight.
She’d crawled through my bodily fluids, her hands and the bottom half of her legs coated in the stuff. She lifted herself onto her knees and started daubing the cupboard doors with blood, attempting to use it as some macabre sort of art supply.
When she’d finished her doodling, she crawled onto my chest, leaving bloody hand prints on my shirt, and came to rest with her head above mine. She pecked me on the lips, then turned her head to rest it on mine.
She fell asleep, as I similarly drifted off, the only difference being that she’d wake up again.
Originally Posted 2/3/2015
Result - Joint 2nd Place
I was house-sitting for some friends of mine who had gone out for the evening. It was their second anniversary and I’d agreed to help them out so they could enjoy themselves for once. To be fair I was more than just house-sitting.
I was babysitting too.
The baby was eleven months old, but I never did get to see her first birthday. She was such a sweet little thing, but she did like to leave her toys lying around the place. There were drawings on many of the walls in cheap crayon and felt tip. They weren’t anything impressive, but it was quite a start to her burgeoning career. Not only that, but she had managed to get hold of the phone earlier, and had taken out the battery pack, leaving it lying on the floor. I’d have been impressed if I wasn’t going to have to fix it up later. If she didn’t become an artist when she grew up, she had a promising future in engineering.
She’d just started crawling a few weeks earlier, so it was difficult to keep track of her all the time. My best bet was to lock all the doors to ensure she was firmly placed in one location, that way I could pretty much relax and catch up on some TV.
My friends had one hell of a DVD collection, so I picked one out that I hadn’t heard of and stuck it into the DVD player. I love horror films, and this one sounded like it might just fit the bill. It was called The Cabin In The Woods, and I hadn’t heard much about it other than half the cast were either antipodean or used to be in stuff by Joss Whedon. That was enough of a selling point for me, so I sat the baby down on the floor to play, then kicked of my shoes and sat myself down to enjoy the movie.
I know what you’re thinking – horror films probably aren’t age appropriate for a baby – but I thought she could take it.
As I skipped through the advertisements, the baby started to crawl around, playing with one of those toy cars that make a rattling noise when you push them. That wasn’t going to be conducive to my viewing pleasure, so I had to think of something to do about it.
“Can you play with that somewhere else?” I told the baby. The baby stared back at me, eyes wide, a trickle of saliva escaping its lips and dripping down its chin. Then the baby crawled out of the living room, pushing the toy car with it.
I settled back down to watch the movie, which looked quite standard as far as horror movies go. All the typical characters were there, and I wasn’t convinced it was going to be any good. But the action kept moving back and forth between the teenagers and some kind of government facility, so I was intrigued to see what happened next.
After about ten minutes, I noticed that the baby had fallen silent. I couldn’t hear the toy car anymore and could only assume the toddler had wandered out of my hearing range. Slightly panicked, I paused the DVD and stood up from my seat.
My foot discovered an extremely sharp toy lying on the ground, and I shrieked with pain. Grasping my foot, I took a look at the damage. There was a mild indent, but no visible wound. Scowling, I looked back up from my pained foot and determined myself to find that child and give it a good hiding.
I stumbled out of the living room and into the kitchen, where i could see a pair of chubby legs sitting behind an open cupboard door. Closing the door, I discovered the baby had discovered a bottle of bleach, and had been gnawing at the cap.
“Put that down!” I shouted, batting the bottle away and grabbing the baby under its arms, lifting it off the ground, “That was very stupid!”
The baby glared at me as I held it in the air, wriggling from side to side, and reaching out for my face. Its nails, which could really have done with a trim, clawed towards me, running against my neck. The pain caused me to drop the baby, who bounced to the ground and proceeded to cry.
My neck was very sore from the baby’s nails, and I dabbed my fingers against the scrapes.
They came away coated in blood.
It was a considerable amount of blood, and I was actually kind of impressed that such a small child could inflict such damage on an adult, but I didn’t have time to remark on the viciousness of an eleven month old, so a walked to the bathroom to inspect the damage.
It was actually considerably worse than I thought; blood was oozing out of three nasty looking lines that ran down my jaw line and onto my neck. My shirt was soaking up the blood at it flowed onto it, but I really needed to do something about this loss of blood before it got more serious. I needed to call for medical assistance.
I picked up a towel, holding it against the side of my neck with one hand as I wandered back into the living room, looking for the phone.
There it was, lying on the ground, it’s battery pack lying next to it.
I picked up the pack, looking at it closely. I’d probably have to put down the towel to put it back in, it looked like a two hand job, so I set to work trying to figure out which way n the battery went.
It took a few minutes to get it right, and once I had I switched it back on, picking up the towel and putting it back against my neck. The screen on the phone started flickering, the word SEARCHING running across the screen. It was taking a long time, it should have found reception by now...
I looked out into the kitchen where the phone base sat, and saw the baby holding the base in one hand while it chewed at the mains cable.
“Give that here,” I shouted, snatching the base away from the baby. She started to cry as I inspected the cable – as I suspected, she’d chewed right through.
Luckily I knew where they had an old phone – and old fashioned one that just plugged into the phone socket and didn’t require battery or mains power. I pulled out a chair with one hand and climbed onto it, reaching for one of the high cupboards that stored all manner of useless paraphernalia.
I looked through the cupboard, finally locating the much needed rotary phone and was about to climb down from the chair when I looked to the ground and saw the baby, both hands on one of the legs, tugging at the chair.
“Stop that! I shouted, but I was too late. Losing my balance as the chair tumbled to the ground, I followed shortly afterwards, my arm slamming into the hard floor and my back swingeing painfully as my head snapped into the ground.
I suspected I now had a head wound to match the one in my neck, and my spasming back was refusing to communicate with my limbs. I couldn’t move!
I lay there, wondering how much blood I had lost, and how long it would be before someone found me. The rotary phone lay useless on the ground beside me, the digital phone just as useless on the counter. I heard a squelching noise, and tried to turn my head. I couldn’t, but as I lay there I saw the baby come into my line of sight.
She’d crawled through my bodily fluids, her hands and the bottom half of her legs coated in the stuff. She lifted herself onto her knees and started daubing the cupboard doors with blood, attempting to use it as some macabre sort of art supply.
When she’d finished her doodling, she crawled onto my chest, leaving bloody hand prints on my shirt, and came to rest with her head above mine. She pecked me on the lips, then turned her head to rest it on mine.
She fell asleep, as I similarly drifted off, the only difference being that she’d wake up again.
Originally Posted 2/3/2015
Result - Joint 2nd Place
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