I stood on the sidewalk opposite the three storey house. Looking down at the slip of paper, I hoped I had got the right address.
Number 22, Second Street.
I looked back up at the house, to the paper, then back up at the house. Yep. This had to be it. I set off across the road, up the wooden steps onto the deck and knocked on the door. Through the glass I could see children's pictures pasted onto walls, all in bright colourful crayon. A figure came to the door. It opened with a creak, the sort of creak that said the wood had been battling the elements too long.
"Hi, Elin Waters," I smiled and tried to be sociable, "You called earlier about babysitting?"
"Ah yes," the figure, a woman in her late thirties with curling blonde hair and warm honey eyes, smiled. She had that bubbly mothering look, wearing a thick heavy jumper and faded jeans, her eyes crinkling at the corners, "Thank you so much for your help. Come on in,"
I entered after her, passing the crayoned pictures, which displayed a happy family scene. Big square house, green garden, butterflies…A girl's picture. One next to it had a roughly draw footballer and a goalie. A boy.
"They're in the kitchen," the woman, who as informed was Mrs Jove, continued down the hall to the foot of a steep staircase, "Jerry, the babysitter's here!"
"Okay!" A man's yell echoed down the stairs.
"Here, let me make you some tea," she gestured to the kitchen. I followed her and leant against the marble worktop. A boy and a girl, either about nine or ten were sat at the oak table, colouring in a big bumper book. Crayons were all over the table and the floor beneath the chairs.
"This is Sophie," Mrs Jove put her weathered hands on Sophie's shoulders. Sophie looked up and smiled, her brown curls bouncing and a big gappy smile shining up at me.
Her brother looked up too, his blonde frizzy thatch of curls matted against his head. He must've just had a shower or bath or something. He stared at me, but smiled when his mom introduced him as Lewis.
"Guys, this is your babysitter Elin. She's gonna look after you when Mommy and Daddy go out tonight," Mrs Jove smiled and reached for the stainless steel kettle.
"Where you goin'?" Lewis asked, back to staring at me. His fingers nervously tapped the table top.
"Out for dinner, for some Mommy-Daddy time, I've told you," Mrs Jove opened a white painted cupboard and pulled down a cream pot of tea bags. I stood awkwardly, unsure if I should add anything to the conversation or not.
"What should we do tonight?" Sophie spoke up, getting off her chair and toddling over to me. I was taken aback at her warm happy smile, and that she'd seemed to have taken such a liking to me.
"Oo! I know, I'll get my make-up and hair clips and we can dress up!" She danced around.
"What? No! I want to put the Xbox on!" her brother protested.
"I don't mind," I said, "How about we play for a bit and then watch a movie or something?" I turned to Mrs Jove, who smiled and nodded.
"That's a lovely idea! We've got plenty of movies!" she handed me a cup of tea. I thanked her and took a tentative sip. Many times I had drunk my tea too fast and burnt my tongue.
"Yay!" Sophie ran out and I could hear her thundering up the stairs. Lewis returned to drawing.
A minute later, Sophie returned carrying a box of dolls make-up and hair clips and extensions, with a whole heap of DVD boxes shoved in on top. I smiled and sighed inwardly. I had never lusted much for make-up, especially kid's make-up, and I knew that all the DVD's would be kiddie or girly. Still, it was my job to look after these kids just for one night, and I was sure one night of childishness was not going to kill me.
Mr Jove came down stairs not long after and we had a nice conversation about restaurants while Mrs Jove went upstairs to get herself ready. Then they said goodnight, telling me that the kids had to be in bed by nine and that they weren't allowed too much sugar before sleep. I nodded and bid them a goodnight, then closed the door and turned to the kids who stood behind me in the hall.
"So, what first?" I clapped my hands together. They both smiled and grabbed the box of the dreaded cheap cosmetics together and lugged it to the living room. I sighed and followed, knowing that by the time I came out of that room I'd be dolled up like some scary clown.
We sat for a couple of hours attacking each other with eye shadow and lipsticks. I gave Lewis war stripes and made Sophie a princess, trying my absolute best with the shadow and blusher, trying to imitate a Barbie character. I was actually quite pleased with the results. It was as we were trying to tidy up that we heard several sharp bumps upstairs, like something falling off a shelf.
"What was that?" Sophie huddled over to me, scared.
"Sounded like something falling," I said, putting my arms around her.
"It might be Harold," Lewis said.
"Harold?"
"Yeah, he's our budgie. He sometimes gets out of his cage upstairs in our room. Maybe he's knocked something over?" he replied.
I stood up and walked to the bottom of the stairs. It was pitch black up there.
"I'm not going up to check," Sophie huddled against my leg.
"Hey, it's okay. Why don't you put the film on and gets some sweets while I go put him back?" I stooped to her level. She nodded and held her brother's hand. I smiled and flicked on the light before ascending the stairs.
I checked out the second floor. There was the kid's bedroom, half pink half blue, with a budgie cage standing empty on a dresser. My heart quietened down form the increasing sense of dread that'd been building up, and I stepped over, forgetting to turn on the light. I looked inside the cage and around it, but there was no sign of the bird. As I leant against the counter to look behind it, my hand touched something wet and stick, then struck something small and soft. I pulled my hand away, and reached for the light. My hand was red.
Blood.
Shit, I thought. It had to be blood. And the soft object…
I looked to the dresser. It was the body of the dead bird. Missing its head.
I felt a horrible pang of guilt of dread. How would I tell them? Also, how would I tell their parents? Then my natural curiosity kicked in. Why was the budgie missing its head? It wasn't natural for a bird's head to suddenly fall off was it?
I left the room to grab some tissue from the toilet, but stopped in the doorway of the bathroom. A man was stood with his back to me, a thick mess of black hair falling about his shoulders, with hands so unbelievably pale white they could've been painted with body paint. His jeans and white hoodie seemed to be spattered with crimson blood. I swallowed and began to back away slowly, turning back to the stairs silently. I got a good breath to yell to the kids to get out of the house, when there was a thud behind me, and a hand got me from behind, clasping round my throat. I instinctively put my hands up, pulling as hard as I could and butting my elbow backwards. I hit him in the stomach and he fell back, just enough for me to break away and rush down the stairs.
"Guys! Get out of the house!" I yelled to Sophie and Lewis who had come to the doorway, hearing the commotion. I pushed them ahead of me to the door, ripped it open and shoved them out onto the deck.
"Lewis, you've got your mobile haven't you? Quick, call the police. Go to the end of the street to a neighbour away from the house," I saw him hesitate, "Go, do it now!"
He fumbled in his pocket, grabbed his sister and backed away from the house. Pure horror was etched on his face.
I stepped back to grab the door handle and follow them, but a harsh yank on my ponytail stopped me. I latched onto the doorway, trying to hold on so not to get pulled into this maniac. The kids screamed from the sidewalk as cruel hands wrapped around me and pulled me back into the darkness of the hallway.