A/N This is a fanfiction I wrote a while ago, for a contest. I don't remember exactly what it was for, but I needed to show my love for Katy Towell's Childrin R Skary series of illustrations and videos, so I wrote a short story about a skary little girl and a woman who doesn't like her very much. I uploaded this quite a while ago, and took it down due to some technical difficulties that I needed to fix up. I've fixed them now, and edited it a little, so now you can enjoy the finished product.
Lillian Smith was a very peculiar child. Or at least, that's what Mrs. Linden always said. "Now, you mustn't think me rude" she'd say, gossiping as women such as herself are wont to do "But I'm telling you, there's something just not right about that girl." And on she would go, speaking ill of the strange child next door. Oh it's okay, she'd reason, none of the Smiths would ever find out, not if she played her cards right. But little girls hear everything, Mrs. Linden. You of all people should know that.
Mrs. Linden was the sort of woman who took great pride in cleanliness. If it wasn't clean it wasn't right, and if it wasn't right, it needed to be disposed of. Because Mrs. Linden was also the sort of person who disapproved of the odd and peculiar, of which Lillian was the very definition. Normal children weren't that pale. They weren't that quiet, they didn't dig square holes in their sandboxes and they certainly didn't gouge out their teddy bear's eyes with a sharp stick.
For the most part, Mrs. Linden tried to pretend Lillian didn't exist. Only when the situation was completely unavoidable did she acknowledge the child's existence. Lillian, for her part, kept to herself. She played quietly on her own property, and tried her hardest to be a very good little girl. It's extremely difficult, however, to be on your best behaviour all of the time, especially if one is barely four and can't understand most grown-up things yet.
One day, Mr. And Mrs. Smith ran into a problem. Lydia, the babysitter, had just cancelled and they had an important engagement in 20 minutes. "Just call Henrietta, I'm sure she won't mind" Mr. Smith said, watching his wife as she paced back and forth, certainly wearing away a patch of the carpet. "Don't be silly John, we can't. She's an old woman, we can't leave Lillian with her, she'll run her rampant."And so this conversation went on. Only for a few moments, until it was decided that the best course of action was to bring her to Mrs. Linden. And that is how, one phone call later, Mrs. Linden had arrived at the Smith household, politely agreeing to help out neighbours in need, despite the little terror they harboured.
"Honestly Miriam, this child is an abomination. No, really. She doesn't do anything. She just sits there and...stares at you. No, no she's in bed now. No, thank God almighty. She... hold on Miriam." halted her phone call with a hand placed over the mouthpiece. "Yes, what is it Lillian?" Lillian just stood there. Mrs. Linden tapped her foot on the floor, growing more impatient with every passing second. Lillian just stood there and smiled. Mrs. Linden scowled "Really Lillian, it is impolite to..." But she never got to finish her sentence.
Remember when I said that Lillian tried hard to be a good little girl? Well, she did. Unbelievably hard. And good little girls, they clean up after themselves, don't they? But mother and father store the shovel awfully high, and she's not supposed to touch the chemicals under the sink...