Vicky got on her bike and rode off to her next job. Ten minutes later, she walked up to the door and rang the bell. A small boy in a pink shirt and blue shorts opened the door. He'll be fun to play with.
Then she noticed to her displeasure that the kid's parents were still there. Time for the little miss angel voice.
"Hello Mr. and Mrs. …" Crap, what was the name of these suckers?
Vicky took out a slip of paper with the name and address.
"Turner!" Saved it.
"I'm Vicky, the babysitter!" Vicky said as she leaned in and smiled deviously at her prey.
"My, my! What a precious little gift from above you have here!" She continued as she picked up the boy and throttled him in a hug.
"He is, isn't he? Just the most adorable little fairy of ours."
"Mom! I'm not a fairy." he said through choked breaths. The Turners and Vicky laughed together before Mr. Turner walked out to the car. By this time Vicky had set the boy down.
"Ok, remember Vicky. Bed by eight, make sure he brushes his teeth, and have fun!"
"I will, Mrs. Turner. I will."
By this time, the Turners had gotten into the car and had driven off. The boy walked up and looked at her with an innocent smile.
"Hello Vicky, I'm-"
"GOING TO BED." Vicky let out an evil laugh as she took a medieval axe out of her bag and swung it in the direction of the kid. He ran up the stairs with a terrified look on his face. I love that look. She giggled to herself as she wandered over to the living room and sat down. She turned on the T.V. and began flipping channels. Ah, this is the life.
Three hours later, the Turners returned home. As they walked in the door, the kid came running down the stairs.
"Mom, Dad! Vicky tried to hit me with an axe!"
The kid's parents simply laughed at his absurd story.
"M-mom? It's true." he whimpered.
"Of course it is, and I'm a pirate. Argh, mateys!" Mrs. Turner and her husband laughed as they walked up to Vicky.
"Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Turner! Welcome back!"
Mr. Turner gave her a wad of bills double her fee. Her face lit up as she greedily grabbed the money from his hand.
"Why thank you for being so generous!"
"You earned it. The house is still clean, no toys scattered all over. I'm telling you, you're going to have a good time babysitting Timmy." These aren't just suckers. They're super suckers! And that cute twerp. Vicky shook her head at the thought. Genuinely calling a kid cute was something that she never did before. Weird; I must be having an off day.
"Well, I need to get going. I look forward to next time, Timmy!" She laughed as she got on her bike and rode off, leaving a terrified Timmy in the doorway.
Over the next few months, Vicky had begun her full babysitting "treatment" of Timmy Turner. She forced him to do the dishes, even if they were already done; she forced him to be used as a footstool. She would yell at him when he was holding something fragile to get him to break it. She would threaten him with weapons when he was too annoying.
But something was irritating Vicky. She kept calling him cute in her head. None of the other kids in her care were cute. They were all just dumb, gross kids in her mind; small amusements to pass the time as she milked their parents. But there was something about Timmy that she liked. What the hell, Vicky? Get a hold of yourself.
Around six months into her babysitting gig, Vicky became suspicious of Timmy. When she walked past his door, she could hear him whispering. After a couple of times, she grew sick of wondering what he was doing in his room and opened the door. She simply saw Timmy talking to his goldfish.
"The hell are you doing, twerp?" Vicky asked accusingly.
Timmy jumped in surprise at Vicky's presence. He obviously didn't think she'd come in.
"Why do you care?" He responded.
"Because your whispering is creeping me out."
"I was talking to my goldfish."
"Why? No real friends, twerp?" She nearly began laughing when she noticed that Timmy didn't answer. He simply looked down and started crying. Vicky couldn't believe it. She actually felt bad. She forced herself to not show pity as she walked away.
The next weekend, she booked multiple kids for her babysitting gig and had them taken over to her house. Her parents had left for vacation that week on account of a death threat Vicky made, leaving Vicky alone with her sister. The kids were dropped off as their parents drove away.
"So, what's for lunch?" One of them said. This was obviously his first time dealing with Vicky. This kid isn't scared of me. Time to change that.
"Oh, nothing. Nothing's for lunch. And nothing's what you get!" Before she had a chance to laugh the kid shouted in protest.
"Hey, you can't do that to us! I'm hungry!" as he yelled, Timmy and the other kid backed away in fear. Uppity little shit, isn't he?
"Ok, you're right. I'll make you a sandwich." Vicky said sadly before going into the kitchen to prepare a meal. The kids followed her into the kitchen as she made the sandwich. The kid who demanded it took a seat at the kitchen table.
"Okay, here's your sandwich… uh, what's your name?"
"Chester."
"Chester! Such a nice little name. And enjoy your food. It's to die for!"
Chester looked puzzled at her strange glee before turning to eat. Right before he first bit in, Vicky took a bottle out and placed it on the table. It was a green liquid, and the bottle was marked with a skull and crossbones.
"Is that… poison?" Chester asked with a newfound fear in his voice. No, it's water with food coloring you idiot.
"Oh no! I think I accidently put the hot sauce in the rat trap, and the poison in your sandwich. It would be such a shame if anything happened to you." She laughed with a malicious undertone.
Chester simply put the sandwich down and looked at her, scared out of his mind.
"Would you like me to make you another one?" Vicky asked innocently.
"N-n-no thanks. I'm g-good."
"Great! Now I can show you where you'll be staying." Vicky walked out of the kitchen and cleared her throat.
"TOOTIE! GET DOWN HERE!"
As the group trembled with fear, they saw a small figure appear at the top of the stairs.
"Y-yes, sister?"
"These twerps need a place to stay, and they sure as hell aren't staying down here. Show them your room, I'm going to watch T.V."
Timmy, Chester, and the other boy ran upstairs and joined Tootie. They hurried into Tootie's room and shut the door. The group sat in a circle, staring uncomfortably at each other before Tootie started crying.
"I hate my sister! She's pure evil!"
Timmy moved over and comforted her.
"Hey. It's going to be alright."
"No it's not. You're going to all leave at the end of the day, then I'll be stuck here alone with her like always."
"Well, we will have to leave, but that doesn't mean we can't see each other again. You want to be friends?"
Tootie looked up into Timmy's eyes. He gave her a smile that assured her it would be alright. A smile that made the pain and fear disappear. Tootie grinned back at Timmy and wrapped her arms around him and squeezed as tight as she could. She finally let go when he started to choke.
"Sorry. It's just I don't have many friends myself."
"Me neither. I guess that makes one." Timmy responded.
"Well, I don't have a lot of friends either. Most people think I'm a freak. My names A.J. by the way."
"Timmy."
"Chester."
"So… do you like comic books?" asked Chester. Everyone nodded in agreement.
"Well, luckily that psycho didn't check my coat pockets."
Chester pulled out an issue of the Crimson Chin.
"Neat. It was sold out when I tried to find it." Timmy said.
"Same." A.J. added.
"I managed to get the variant cover." Tootie said. She got up and dug under her bed before pulling out the comic.
"Cool; it's the one where the Crimson Chin is holding Cleft in his arms." A.J. said in awe.
"They only printed like a thousand copies of it. I'd keep that away from Vicky if I were you." Timmy stated.
"By the way, aren't any of you going to tell your parents about her?"
"We already did. She's so crazy that they don't believe us."
Chester shivered.
"Well, if we're going to die we might as well read some comics first."
The new friends spent most of the time reading through Tootie's extensive backlog of comic books she hid underneath her bed. A.J.'s mom arrived around three hours later. Chester's dad showed up a little after that, leaving Timmy and Tootie reading her collection. It wasn't until late at night that Timmy's parents finally arrived to pick him up. Tootie followed Timmy into the living room.
"So, I'll see you later Tootie. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow? I can ride my bike up here."
"I'd like that."
Tootie gave Timmy a hug while Vicky watched. After the Turners left, Vicky turned and glared at her sister.
"Wh-what did I do?"
Vicky pondered the question. She didn't know why, but she didn't like watching Tootie hug Timmy. It made her angry. Not the false anger she puts on for her victims, but actual anger.
"Tootie… go to your room."
As Tootie fled up the stairs, Vicky took a seat on the couch pondering her predicament. I think I might be losing it.
Over the next year, Vicky had become increasingly unhinged. She became focused on Timmy in much the same way her sister had. However, whereas Tootie liked to hug and kiss Timmy against his will, Vicky liked to torment him. She enjoyed watching him work; she liked forcing him into wearing girl's clothes. She liked to poke him with her fingernail and elicit a small "ow." She had begun to enjoy the sound of his voice, the sound of his laughter, the sound of his fear.
She finally realized one day exactly what had happened to her. During a hot summer day, she was outside in the Turners' backyard relaxing under the sun. It was the day after Timmy's tenth birthday and she gave him a "present." It was a pair of scissors wrapped in a bow that she forced Timmy to cut the grass with. Unable to endure the heat, Timmy removed his shirt and hat. And she watched. And she looked. And she felt a dark hunger burn in her chest. No… no, no, no, no, no!
She stood up and walked back inside. She stumbled onto the couch and grabbed her head, as if trying to wrestle back control of her brain. NO! SHUT UP! SHUT! UP!
She looked up sensing eyes upon her. She spotted Timmy watching her, and felt hatred boiling in her stomach. Hatred for herself, for Timmy, for everything. She stood up and yelled.
"Oh I see, trying to get out of working, Huh? Thinking if you take pity on me, I'll be nicer? WELL IT ISN'T GOING TO WORK. NOW GO TO BED, TWERP!"
Timmy ran off into his room, terrified of this newly monstrous Vicky. She collapsed onto the couch and stared down, contemplating her bizarre feelings as she cupped her face. What the hell is wrong with me?
Vicky attempted to fight back her emotions by tormenting Timmy even worse than before. She threatened him with poison and swords more often. She threw knives at him when she spotted him. She focused her pain and rage on new, far more creative methods of torture. She bought a creepy clown doll to put by kids beds when she worked overnight. She'd buy toys and burn them in front of the kids. She made groups of kids work in sweatshops producing crappy products for her high school. And she was harshest on Timmy. But her thoughts wouldn't end. Whenever she went to babysit Timmy, she could feel desire hurt in her chest. Whenever she saw her sister try and force Timmy into a kiss, she'd become jealous.
One fateful day, she was invited along with the Turner family to a ski resort up in Washington. It was her job to watch Timmy while his parents ran off to have fun. Vicky was wandering around when she lost sight of Timmy. She began panicking; she ran around the resort trying to find him before moving out into the freezing tundra. Farther in, she saw a pink dot head into a cave out of the corner of her eye. Vicky took off in that direction, forcing herself through the thick blizzard winds. She walked into the cave and looked around for signs of Timmy.
As she walked further in, she heard crying.
"Timmy? Is that you?"
"Go away!"
Vicky turned and saw him crying into his coat sleeve. The sight of him crying sent a sharp pain through her chest. Damn it! Stop caring! He's just another kid!
"Damn it, twerp! You can't go running off like that!"
"Why do you care?! You hate me!"
No I don't.
"Yes I do, but I can't let you get hurt on my watch."
"Why? No one cares about me. They wouldn't even notice I was gone!"
"Your parents are idiots and they like to run off a lot, but they do care. Now come on, we're leaving."
"Just go away! I hate you! For the last two years you've made my life hell! I fucking hate you! SO JUST LEAVE!"
With his last words Timmy shook the cave to its core. And as Vicky walked forward to drag him out, they heard a rumbling. A deafening sound. And then everything was dark. And everything was cold. And all was silent, save for the crying of a small, broken child.
Vicky panicked; she stumbled back to the cave entrance and started clawing at the snow, desperate to find a way out.
Damn it, Not like this! I'm not dying like this!
She wailed at the snow. But it was no use. They were stuck in the cold depths of the cave and they were going to die. Vicky walked into the cave and stumbled to where Timmy was. She took a seat on the opposite side of him and curled up. Everything was too much. If she wasn't so cruel, Timmy wouldn't have run off, he wouldn't have yelled, and they wouldn't be stuck waiting to die. I killed us both. I'm so sorry.
"I'm sorry, Timmy."
There was silence. Vicky couldn't deal with this anymore. She began crying.
"I'm so sorry! I don't mean to be the way I am. I just can't stop it. If I stop, then I'm afraid of what I'll do next. And now I killed us both. I'm sorry Timmy."
As Vicky silently wept, she heard footsteps approaching. Then she felt a cold hand on her cheeks wiping away the tears. She tried swatting his hand away, but he simply put it back. After a moment Vicky grabbed Timmy and pulled him into a hug. She squeezed him tight, enveloping him in her arms and legs. She held him close and let her tears drop onto his head. Just tell him. There's no point in hiding anymore; we're both dead. Just tell him already.
Save for the dripping of tears, the next several minutes had become completely silent. Vicky had the words on the tip of her tongue, but she still wouldn't release them. She forced them in. She would never hurt Timmy like that, even at the end; even as she held him close for warmth and felt joy.
"Vicky… I forgive you."
Don't say that. You're supposed to hate me!
"Don't lie to me, twerp."
"I'm not. And I'm sorry for running away."
Stop! Just stop! I… I…
"Timmy… I… I lo…"
Don't tell him. He doesn't need this. And you know you don't deserve his forgiveness.
Before Vicky had a chance to mutter another word, fate intervened. There were sounds of people shouting on the other side. In a minute, blinding light pierced the cave as daylight returned.
"Is anyone in there?"
"Yes! Help!" Vicky shouted.
"We've got one!" The man shouted before continuing to dig. Several people had been frantically digging around the snow, including Timmy's parents. A large man in a full body coat tore his way into the cave. Before Vicky could react, the man walked up and picked Timmy up and wrapped him in a blanket.
"Your kids in here too. Let's get these two someplace warm."
Timmy and Vicky were dragged out of the cave and taken back into the cabin. Timmy's parents were frantically searching him over for signs of frostbite while Vicky gulped down hot coco.
"Timmy, are you okay?! Did you get hurt in the cave?"
"I'm fine, dad."
"Why did you run out into the cave?"
"I just wanted to be alone… I thought you two didn't care about me."
"Wh-what? We love you! Why would you think we didn't?"
"You're always leaving to go on vacations and leaving me alone."
"That doesn't mean we don't love you! We just… your mother and I haven't been having the smoothest time with our marriage. And we had Vicky watching you to make sure you were taken care of. She has been taking care of you, hasn't she?"
That's it. I'm fucked. And I deserve every bit of it.
"Yes, she's been taking great care of me. She's become almost like a sister, actually. I hope me being dumb doesn't mean you'll stop letting her come over."
Vicky looked up in shock. After everything I've done to him, why wouldn't he get rid of me? Why? WHY DOESN'T ANYTHING MAKE SENSE?!
"Of course Vicky can still come over! If you've grown so close, we wouldn't want to keep you apart."
Vicky couldn't believe it. Timmy saved her; forgiveness was one thing, but actually helping her keep her job? She was in shock.
Over the next couple of weeks, Vicky would come over even though Timmy's parents were still in the house. Vicky had started to enjoy her time with Timmy, even though she had to force her real feelings down. However, Timmy's parents had started bickering again a month after the incident. Surprisingly, Timmy gave them the go ahead to leave, telling them that he would be fine with Vicky.
The second his parents left, Vicky had tried to force things back the way they were. For the next year, she would make Timmy scrub the floor with his own toothbrush, or yell at him in a monstrous howl. She'd make him wear a maid outfit while attempting to force her brain not to think of how attractive she thought he looked in it.
Everything seemed to be going back to normal, although Timmy was far less afraid of her than his friends now. One day during summer, Vicky nearly let her true feelings out. She was watching the neighborhood kids at a local swimming pool and Tootie was bugging Timmy. She would try and kiss him by surprise, or give him a hug, and he was obviously uncomfortable. Vicky was grinding her teeth. She was sweating. Leave him alone!
"Tootie, please stop." Timmy said.
"Stop what?" she teased.
"Stop kissing me."
"You mean this?" Tootie said as she placed another kiss on his cheek. Timmy looked towards Vicky, sitting on her chair like a throne. Looking into his eyes, he almost seemed apologetic. Why is he looking at me like that? Does he want me to help him or something?
Vicky had had enough. She left the chair and stormed past the other kids, who reflexively ran away in terror. She walked up and stared down her little sister.
"Tootie, stop it now."
"Wh-what?"
"Stop bugging the twerp!"
"Why do you care?"
Because I want him!
"Because he's my property! He belongs to me! And I don't like people touching my things!"
Tootie backed away from Timmy, who almost seemed to smile up at Vicky before his expression returned to a neutral one. Vicky didn't want Tootie with Timmy anymore. She dragged him back towards the chair and forced him to fan her in the heat as she flipped on a pair of sunglasses.
"Uh… thanks Vicky." Timmy whispered.
"Don't tell anyone." Vicky muttered back.
After that day, Timmy's behavior had started to change drastically. Vicky would boss him around and make him do chores, but at the end of the day he would come into the living room and try to sit down next to her. She scared him off the first couple of times, but his persistence won out. They would simply silently watch movies together. Then the next time they were together, Vicky would boss him around again. This pattern continued for nearly a year. Vicky would force Timmy away, and he would come back and just watch movies with her.
Then when Timmy was almost twelve, everything changed. They had stuck to their usual routine. Vicky forced Timmy to go and work in the kitchen scrubbing dishes. When he came back, he sat on the couch next to Vicky. But this time he sat closer to her than normal. They were practically touching. Half-way through the movie, Vicky felt something move her hand. Timmy had taken it in his own hand and began rubbing the top of her knuckles with his thumb. It felt so soothing, and yet every part of her wanted to yank her hand away. But she didn't; she couldn't, looking down at Timmy smiling contently and blushing.
Could he actually… no, of course not. He's just being friendly.
"Vicky, I think I like you." Timmy said as he turned and looked her in the eyes. His smile pierced through her hardened shell like daggers. She wanted him; she needed him. She turned the T.V. off and stood up. Then she crouched on the floor and looked into Timmy's eyes. She placed a hand on his face. She smiled slightly, getting Timmy to place his hand on her face. Stop it! He's just being nice! He has no idea what he's doing and you know it!
Vicky's smile faded as she removed her hand. She was shaking, barely holding her tears back.
"Vicky… it's ok." He rubbed her face reassuringly.
"No… it's not. I'm sorry, Timmy. I have to go." Vicky forced herself to stand up and turn away. She took a wad of money out of her pocket and dropped it on the floor.
"For food. Your parents won't be back until later, so order something. Goodbye, Timmy." Vicky walked out the door to her car.
"Wait, Vicky! Don't go!"
Vicky simply forced herself to keep walking. Don't you dare look back. Don't you dare!
Vicky got in her car and drove away. She pulled into a secluded parking lot and dialed Timmy's parents.
"Hello, Mr. Turner? It's Vicky. Something's come up. I had to leave. Timmy's safe at home, I left him money for dinner… no, I'm sorry I won't be back tomorrow… No I won't be back next week, either. I'm sorry, the schedules just not working out. I'm sorry, I have to go."
Vicky threw the phone into the passenger seat and curled up into a ball. She began sobbing uncontrollably; all the pain and anger and fear was pouring out at once.
But he's safe. I won't ruin his life. He'll be sad at first, but it's for the best.
Ten minutes later, she started the car. Her shirt was soaked with tears and her eyes were bloodshot. But she felt a twinge of happiness.
At least I won't be screwing up his life.
Several blocks away, Timmy was sitting on his porch with tears in his eyes. He looked out when he heard a car coming, hopeful that Vicky was coming back, but she wasn't. She wasn't coming back and he might never see her again. He simply put his head in his hands and muttered to himself.
"Vicky… I love you."