The Babysitter

   “Thank you so much for coming at the last minute,” Mrs. Prescott said with a grin, holding the door open.

  “No problem at all,” Darby said, stepping into the house. “I’m glad I could help you out.”

  “It has been so long since my husband and I have been to a party on Halloween,” Mrs. Prescott said, closing the door behind Darby and leading her down the front hallway into the living room. Two kids, a girl and a boy, sat on the brown leather sofa watching a scary movie on television.

 “Molly, Stephen, come meet your babysitter.”

  Two heads swiveled around and looked up at their mother and Darby.

“This is Darby,” Mrs. Prescott introduced. “She is going to keep an eye on you two while your dad and I go to a party.”

“Hi Darby,” two voices said in unison. Then their heads swiveled back around. Mrs. Prescott rolled her eyes.

“They’re obsessed with this movie lately. Once it’s over they should start getting ready for bed. They will probably want to eat more of their trick or treat candy but try to limit them to only one or two pieces. They’ve already both had much more than enough for one night.”

   At that moment Mr. Prescott walked into the room and held his hand out to greet Darby.

“I’m Ted Prescott, nice to meet you. Thanks for agreeing to watch the kids and sorry for the late call. I know most people are in for the evening once it gets dark.”

“Oh it’s no problem. My day is just beginning when it gets dark.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Prescott laughed.

“Oh to be young again,” Ted said with a wistful smile. He walked to the closet and took out two long black jackets.

“We should be back around eleven,” he told Darby, handing one of the jackets to his wife. She slipped it on over her dress.

“All the emergency numbers are on the fridge and the kids know their bedtime routine. If they give you any trouble, just tell them we will take away their candy if we hear they were bad.”

  Molly and Stephen’s heads swiveled around again at the mention of their candy being confiscated.

“You hear that, kids?” Mr. Prescott said. “Do what your babysitter says.”

“Yes, dad,” they both said in monotone voices, then turned back to their movie.

“Alright well call us if you need anything,” Mrs. Prescott said, taking her husband’s hand. They walked out of the room together and in a moment, Darby heard the front door click shut behind them.

“Do you wanna watch this movie with us?” Stephen asked Darby.

“Sure,” she answered, sitting in the armchair across from the couch. She looked up at the screen but after a few seconds, she felt someone’s eyes on her. Glancing at the couch she noticed Molly staring at her.

“Are you sick?” she asked bluntly. Darby cocked her head to the side.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re like super pale,” Molly said, squinting at Darby to see her better in the dim light. Darby held up her hands and peered at them.

“I just have a light complexion,” she said defensively.

“You need to tan,” Molly suggested. “Hey do you want me to give you a makeover? You might look more normal with some bronzer and rouge.”

“How old are you? You’re wearing makeup already?” Darby commented.

“I’m twelve, thank you,” Molly said with sass, putting a hand on her hip. “My mommy lets me wear makeup whenever I want. And I don’t need a babysitter. You can babysit Stephen. He’s only ten.”

“Ten and a half,” Stephen snapped, not even taking his eyes off the screen.

“Whatever,” Molly shrugged him off. “I’ll go get my makeup and give you a mirror so you can see what I’m doing.”

“A what?” Darby said nervously.

“A mirror,” Molly repeated, giving the babysitter a confused look.

“No need for that. I’m sure whatever you do will look amazing.”

“Ok, whatever you say,” Molly agreed, disappearing down a hallway. She came back in a few moments with a bag of makeup and a hairbrush.

“I’m going to make you beautiful,” she told Darby, unzipping the bag.

  Half an hour later, Darby sat in the armchair slathered in way too much of Molly’s makeup, her hair sectioned off into at least five braids.

“She looks ridiculous,” Stephen said, finally paying attention to something other than the television now that the movie was over. He took his trick or treat basket off the table next to the couch and began digging through it.

“She does not,” Molly said, glaring at her brother. “She looks beautiful.”

Stephen shook his head. Grabbing a handful of candy he plopped it down on the sofa and began sorting through it.

“What is that?” Darby asked frowning and pointing to a piece of gummy candy in a clear plastic wrapper.

“Fangs,” Stephen said. He held them up to his mouth and made a scary face. “Guess what I am!”

“That’s not even close. Real fangs don’t look like that,” Darby said disapprovingly. Stephen’s brow furrowed.

“It’s just a dumb piece of candy,” he said, tearing open the wrapper and popping the fangs into his mouth.

“When are our parents going to be home?” he asked.

“Around eleven,” Darby answered. Molly laughed and shook her head.

“There’s no way they will make it home by eleven. When my parents party, they party hard. You should see my dad chug beers and my mom with her blood Mary.”

“Bloody Mary?” Darby repeated, licking her lips. “She sounds delightful. Does she come around often?”

 Molly and Stephen looked at each other and then back at Darby.

“You’re a weird babysitter,” Molly said. “Bloody Mary is an alcohol drink.”

“Isn’t it time you kids were in bed?” Darby said, weary of Molly’s frank opinions.

“Yeah, Mom said we had to go to bed after the movie or she’d take our candy,” Stephen reminded his sister.

“Whatever. I shouldn’t even have a babysitter. I’m twelve,” Molly muttered. She turned to Darby.

“The TV remote is on the mantle. If you get hungry there’s all kinds of snacks in the pantry, just don’t eat our candy.”

“No chance of that,” Darby assured her. “I’m certain I won’t be hungry for any food tonight.”

 Molly shrugged and walked out of the room with her brother.

“I’ll be up to check on you in a minute,” Darby called after them. She ran her tongue over her teeth and looked down at the pile of candy Stephen had left on the couch including the wrapper for his gummy fangs.

“Not even close,” she laughed. Pushing the candy aside, she sat down and looked up at the TV. After a few moments, her eyes drifted toward the dark hallway that led to the kids’ rooms. Perhaps she was a little hungry after all.

  Two hours later the clock on the mantle read eleven thirty and Mr. and Mrs. Prescott were stumbling down the front hallway. Darby smiled and stood up to greet them.

“Hello, sorry we are late,” Ted said, slurring his words slightly. “It took us a while to get a cab.”

“It’s no problem,” Darby assured them.

“I hope we didn’t keep you up too late,” Mrs. Prescott chimed in. Darby shook her head.

“I won’t be going to bed for hours yet.”

“How were the kids?” Mrs. Prescott asked.

“They were good,” Darby said. “They went to bed right after the movie and I haven’t heard a peep from them since. They must just be…” Darby paused for a moment. “Drained.”

“Well I hope you were able to relax. I forgot to tell you we have plenty of snacks in the kitchen. Even some leftover garlic bread from the Italian we ordered in last night.”

  Darby wrinkled her nose.

“Oh none for me, thanks. I found something else that was quite to my liking.”

“Excellent. I’m glad you made yourself at home,” Ted interjected. “Now about paying you. Do you prefer cash or check?” 

Haunted Maze

"Is this the right place?" Emma asked, peering out the back window of Will's car. It was dark on these country roads and all she could see was the outline of a barn in the distance and to her right what looked like a corn field.
"This is where my GPS took me," Will said, listening to the robotic voice telling him he had arrived at his destination.
"There is a sign that says "haunted maze this way"," Jasper pointed out from the front passenger seat. Emma looked where he pointed and saw a tall wooden sign with the words Jasper had spoken painted in black elegant letters. She smiled. She had looked forward to Halloween and haunted mazes all year.
"It looks like we are the first ones here," Will said, pulling off the road into a field designated for parking. He eased into a parking space marked off with white rope.
"All the scarier for us then," Jasper said excitedly, looking over his shoulder at Emma.
"I'm not scared. You are the one who cried like a little girl last year when a ghost popped out at you in the haunted house."
 Will laughed and Jasper glared at Emma.
"I did not scream. I just jumped a little."
"Whatever you say," Emma shrugged.
  The three teens got out of the car and walked toward a large barn at the far end of the field. An old man sat at a table with a lantern in the door way and waved at them as they approached.
  "Welcome to the haunted farm. Are you all ready to brave the trail?" he said, gesturing to the cornfield.
  "Yes sir," Will said, reaching into his pocket to take out his wallet.
  "Ten dollars a person," the old man said. He reached out his hand to collect the money the teens handed him.
  "Now the maze is out that way past the sign," he said, pointing into the growing darkness. Tall stalks of corn waved back and forth in the breeze. Emma pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders.
  "When you come out, you will be at the back of the barn. Just come around front and I will give you your prize for finding your way through," the old man told them with a grin. 
   "There may be some strange and scary creatures along the way but don't worry, they're not allowed to touch you. Only give you a good scare!" he said, waving his fingers and bobbing his head like a ghost.
   "Well we don't scare easy," Jasper told him. Emma snickered and Jasper glared at her.
   "Come on, let's get in there before a bunch of people show up," Will encouraged. They waved goodbye to the man at the table and headed toward the maze. At the entrance was a small sign on a post that read, "Enter here if you dare" and three trails leading off in different directions. Shrill screams and maniacal laughter came from deep in the maze.
  "Three trails, one for each of us," Emma suggested.
  "Sounds good to me," Will agreed.
  "I'm down," Jasper said, swallowing the lump in his throat.
  The teens each walked toward the beginning of one path and then turned to look at each other.
  "Last one out buys the rest of us icecream," Will decided.
 "Hope you brought enough money to buy me two scoops then," Emma sassed, with a challenging smile.
 "Let's get this over with," Jasper said, starting shakily down his path. Emma rolled her eyes and began to walk through the corn stalks and Will did the same.

   Jasper pulled his hands up into the sleeves of his hoodie and folded his arms. He had been alone for thirty seconds and already regretted going along with Emma's idea. The corn stalks were tall and isolating and it was impossible to tell where the scary creatures the old man had mentioned might be lurking.
  "Hi there, little boy," said a raspy voice suddenly. Jasper jumped and ran forward not even stopping to look at who had spoken. He heard evil laughter behind him and continued at a fast pace.
  "If I have to buy Emma icecream I'm going to smash it in her face," he promised himself, turning around as he realized he was in a dead end.
  He went down a different path hoping the maze was not as big as it had looked when they first drove up. A few feet in front of him he could see a figure dressed in old baggy overalls and a torn up straw hat. It made grunting noises like a zombie and Jasper kept to the opposite side of the trail as it moseyed past him.
  So far these creatures were not too scary. Maybe he had overreacted. The old man said the creatures were not allowed to touch them anyway so what did he really have to fear. Feeling a bit more confident, he continued down this path wondering how Emma and Will were faring.
  Up ahead was a curve in the path and Will could see the outline of a person peek around it. He laughed a little bit.
  "You popped out too soon," he called ahead. "I already saw you." A moment passed with no response and then a tall shadowy figure stepped out from behind the corn and stood silently blocking the way.
  "Nice try," Jasper told him. "And the machete is a nice touch. I didn't even see that at first. Is it sharp?"
  The figure nodded.
  "Well be careful that you don't cut yourself jumping out at people."
  The figured did not respond.
  "Can I get by now, please? I am kind of in a race with my friends to see who can get through the maze first."
   The figure stepped out of the way and gestured Jasper forward.
  "Thank you, kind sir," he said with a flourish. "I hope you are able to-"
  Jasper stopped mid sentence as a sharp pain seared through his back. He hunched over and gasped for air. The last thing he heard was a piercing scream somewhere out in the maze. Then he fell to the ground and everything was darkness.


   Emma walked briskly down the trail she had chosen smiling bravely at the ghost and witch who peered out at her from the corn stalks.
 "You don't scare me. Better luck next time," she taunted. She wondered how Jasper was doing. He had not seemed too excited about this whole maze idea and especially not about going through by himself.
  A clown suddenly appeared in the path and blew loudly on a noisemaker. Emma jumped a little, then giggled.
  "Nice one, clown," she said. He bowed and disappeared back into the darkness.
 She walked for what seemed like a long time and finally came to a fork in the trail. Looking both ways, she tried to remember which direction the barn was since that's where the old man said the path lead. The corn was too tall to see over but she felt like the barn would be to the left. Turning that direction, she walked through the shadows and in a few seconds, found herself in a dead end.
"I guess it's to the right," she decided, and turned around to go back.
"Oh! You scared me!" she exclaimed, jumping back and putting a hand on her chest. "You walked up so quietly I didn't even hear you."
 A tall figure stood in front of her holding a long machete. It was hard to tell in the darkness but it looked to be covered in blood.
 "That's quite a terrifying knife you have there. The blood looks so real. I'm guessing it's corn syrup though, huh?"
  The figure did not reply. He took a step forward till he was face to face with Emma and took a lock of her hair in his fingers. She winced.
"Hey now, the old man at the barn said you guys aren't allowed to touch us. And if you're trying to come onto me, I can tell you homicidal maniacs are not my type," Emma said with a nervous laugh.
  The figure did not speak but his lips curled up into a queasy smile. The girl took another step back.
"Why are you looking at me that way?" she asked, feeling her heart beginning to pound. Then in an instant, the pounding stopped.
  Emma put her hand back up to her chest and opened her mouth to scream but before she could summon the breath, she fell to the ground and was silent.


  Will was confident as ever as he strolled down the dark path through the tall stalks of corn. He had already braved a crazy butcher waving a knife and an angry zombie hungry for brains. He had walked for what seemed like a long time and was sure the end of the trail must be coming up soon.
  Sure enough, as he turned a corner he could see a little break in the darkness and the backside of the old man's barn about fifty yards away. Quickening his pace, he was eager to see if Emma and Jasper had been able to beat him to the end.
  "I bet Jasper is still stuck at the beginning too scared to go in," he said to himself with a chuckle.
  All of a sudden a dark figure emerged from the corn stalks and planted himself right in the path. He held what looked like a large machete and it appeared to be coated in blood.
   "Whoa, buddy. You just came out of nowhere," Will said, good naturedly, stopping in front of the man.
   "Are you the last creature I have to pass before I am free?"
  The figure did not answer.
   "Well, I know you're not allowed to touch me and you can't keep me here forever," he said, looking for a way around the man. But he was large and Will would have to go into the corn to get past him.
   "Is there like a riddle or something I have to solve?" he asked, beginning to feel slightly agitated.
   The figure stood silently. Will sighed.
  "Ok well if you don't mind, can I get past you now? I want to see if my two friends were able to get through before me."
    The figure looked down at his machete and a sick smile came over his face. He stepped to the side of the path and motioned for Will to continue.
  "Thanks a lot, man. Stay creepy!" Will called over his shoulder as he left the maze.
Looking around, he did not see Emma or Jasper. Maybe they had hardly gone to find the old man and claim their prize. Will hurried around the barn to the old man's table but he did not see his friends.
   "Am I the first one out?" he asked, approaching the table. The old man turned around to face him with a smile.
   "You sure are, young man. Congratulations! Here is your prize."
  The old man handed Will a small pumpkin with a scary face carved in it and a battery powered tea light candle inside.
    "My wife made these for our guests. It took her days."
    "This is great, thank you," Will said.
    "How did you like the maze?" the old man wanted to know. "Did it terrify you?"
    "It definitely made me jump. And the guy at the end was quite a trip."
   "The guy at the end?"
   "Yes, with the machete. He just appeared out of nowhere and stood looming over me. And the fake blood on his machete looked so real. That's definitely going to scare some kids tonight!" Will assured him.
    The old man sat up in his chair and stared at the maze, his eyebrows creased and the blood drained from his face.
    Will cocked his head to the side.
 "Is something wrong, sir?" he asked. The old man nodded.
 "I didn't hire a man to go in there with a machete."

The New Doll

  This is supposed to be a somewhat "creepy" story in the spirit of Halloween. It's my first try at a story like this so don't judge it too harshly. ;)

“Do you like your new doll, Katie?” her mother asked, smiling down at the little girl cradling the toy in her arms.

“I love her mommy,” Katie exclaimed, running her fingers down the green skirt of the shiny dress and then reaching up to smooth the doll’s big blonde curls. Her eyes were bright blue and her lips dark red. Her porcelain face was white like the snow except for two rosy circles of pink on her cheeks.

“You have to be very careful with her, Katie. Her face is delicate and it could break if you play with her too roughly.”

“I will take good care of her, Mommy,” Katie promised with a big grin.

“We should find a special place for her to stay while you’re not playing with her.” Katie’s mom looked around the room.

“What about the shelf next to my bed on the wall?” the little girl suggested. Her mom nodded.

“That is perfect, Katie. If you pull her legs up very carefully you can make her sit down.”

Katie shifted the doll’s legs into a sitting position, stood up on her bed and placed the doll gently on the sturdy wooden shelf.

“Perfect,” Katie’s mom said with a smile. “Now come downstairs for dinner.”
“Ok, mommy,” Katie answered, following her mom to the door and pausing for one last look at her new doll before leaving the room.

  That night, Katie lay in bed staring into the darkness. A beam of moonlight coming through the window landed on the shelf next to her bed and she could vaguely make out the shiny white face of her doll. She looked straight ahead through her unblinking blue eyes. After a few moments, Katie’s own eyes began to close and soon she was fast asleep.

  Her eyes opened suddenly when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Next to her on the bed stood the little doll, her face creased in a smile, one of her tiny hands waving at Katie.

“You can walk?” Katie asked in astonishment. The doll nodded her head making her blonde curls bounce.

“Come sit with me on the shelf, Katie.”

 Katie glanced at the shelf and then back at the doll.

“I am too big, I would break it,” she explained. The doll walked down Katie’s arm and pulled on her fingers.
“Come sit with me, Katie,” she repeated. Katie sat up and suddenly the doll was gone. She looked around and saw her back on the shelf, her legs in the seated position, her expression blank. The sun was shining in through the windows and Katie could hear her mother making breakfast downstairs.

 “Mommy, mommy, my doll talked to me last night,” the little girl cried, hurrying into the kitchen.

 “That’s great, honey,” Katie’s mom said with a laugh. “I love that you have such a vivid imagination.”

Katie raised a confused eyebrow at her mother’s comment but shrugged it off and asked for a bowl of oatmeal.

  Later that night as Katie’s mom tucked her into bed she reached up and patted the doll’s head.

“Is your new little friend going to talk to you again tonight?” she asked with a sweet smile.

“I don’t know, Mommy,” Katie answered honestly. “But I hope so. She has the cutest little voice and her tiny hands feel funny on my fingers.”

“I am glad you like her,” Katie’s mom said, turning off the light and leaving the room. Katie lay in bed looking up at the doll. She sat motionless now but Katie fully expected to soon feel her tiny doll hands patting her on the shoulder.

  Sure enough, in what seemed like no time at all Katie’s eyes were opening to see the doll’s blue ones looking right at her.

“Come sit on the shelf with me, Katie,” the doll insisted.

“I am still too big,” Katie said with a giggle. The doll again pulled on her hand and repeated her request.

  In the morning her face was still again and Katie couldn’t wait to tell her mother what had happened.

“She wants me to sit on the shelf with her,” the little girl told her mother while eating her bowl of oatmeal.

“That is sweet, honey. But you know you can’t sit on that shelf, right? You are far too big.”

“I know mommy,” Katie assured her. “But I wish I could. It would be fun.”

 That night, Katie’s mother pulled her blankets up to her chin and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“Are you going to talk to your doll tonight, Katie?” she asked.

“Yes, mommy,” Katie said, her eyes lighting up. “She always likes to talk to me at night.”

“I am glad you have a new friend,” her mom said, patting her on the head. “Goodnight, Katie.”

  The little girl lay in bed looking up at the shelf. She smiled knowing that yet again she would get to converse with her new doll.

  Before she knew it, the little blonde curls were bouncing up and down as the doll pulled on her hand even harder than before.

“Katie, come sit on the shelf with me,” the doll insisted. The little girl smiled.

“I told you I am too big.”

  The doll looked at Katie and gave her a strange smile the girl had never seen before.

“It’s time to sit on the shelf, Katie.”

   The next morning, Katie’s mom stood in front of the stove boiling water to make oatmeal for breakfast. She hummed a little tune to herself and smiled wondering when her little girl would come running down the stairs to talk about the conversation she had with her doll the night before.

  “Honey have you seen Katie this morning?” Katie’s dad asked, walking down the back stairs into the kitchen.

“No, is she not in her room?”

“I didn’t see her in there and her bed is not made yet. By the way, when did you get her those two new dolls?”

“I only got her one doll,” Katie’s mom said, turning around and giving her husband a confused look.

“No there are two on the shelf above her bed. One with blonde curly hair and a green dress and one with brown hair the color of Katie’s. Its dress even looks like the nightgown she wore last night.”

“I never bought her a doll like that,” Katie’s mom said, turning back to her boiling pot of water and pouring the oats in. As she stirred them around with a wooden spoon, her thoughts went to Katie’s descriptions of the conversations she’d had with her doll and how the doll had asked her to sit on the shelf. She shook her head and laughed it off. Katie was just a little girl with a creative imagination.

 “Can you stick your head out the back door and see if Katie is playing in the yard?” she asked her husband. “Tell her she needs to come eat breakfast. And I want to find out who gave her that other doll.”