Mrs Davis was considered to be a fit babysitter by the Rogers, for she was punctual, stern and well groomed, a mighty improvement from the last one who filled the position.
But the three children felt that she was too incurious and strict to be their care-taker. They used to have a lot of fun with Sophie, their previous twenty year old babysitter. But of-course, the parents found her to be too fun. Hence, the rude Mrs Davis.
“There’s a spirit in this room, ma’am” Little Harry had cautioned, the second day she had set foot in the storeroom. “It doesn’t like adults.”
“What rubbish!” She had exclaimed.
Over the next few days, she scolded the kids on the missing items, spilled liquids and any other mishap she considered as a mean prank.
But a week later, when the kids were watching TV on their designated hour, she heard a strange screeching sound near the storeroom. Now, she could ignore the chill as the AC, the shadows as a movement of light but the red eyes had her running out the door.
And then a tumble down the stairs.
She was sure she’d slipped on spilled juice, but the sight of the clean steps was enough for her.
The next day, the kids were in hysterics while narrating the tale to Sophie, who’d missed her grand exit.
Written for MLMM’s Photo Challenge hosted by Nekneeraj. Use above image as inspiration for a poem or short story.
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