Jim lay on his stomach on one of the beds flicking through the channels. There was nothing good on.
x
The street lamp flickered. Someone or something moved super-speed over the parking lot, arriving at the boy's motel room. It peeked in through the curtains and watched Jim where he lay flicking the remote. The bathroom door was open, nobody there. No one in the kitchen area either…
x
On one of the channels, Jim found a boring weather report, saying there was a storm coming. He gave up, turned the tv off and put the remote control beside him on the bed. He curled up on his side and sighed. The wallpaper had blue flowers on it. The pattern annoyed him. He sighed again.
The tv came back on! Jim gasped and sat straight up in bed. He picked up the remote and tried to shut the tv off. It didn't work.
Hesitantly he put his feet over the edge of the bed, then got up and stood on the floor. The news were doing a close-up of the anchorman. Slowly Jim went closer and closer to the tv. When he was within reach he bowed down to turn the tv off, staring at the screen as he went down. The picture froze and the tv-sound muted. Jim stopped and stared wide-eyed at the screen. He felt drawn in – hypnotized by the anchorman's eyes, staring right into the camera.
Jim leaned in closer to really look at those eyes... They blinked! The tv-sound returned, higher than before. Jim flinched and quickly turned the tv off.
He backed away. When there was enough distance between him and the tv, he turned his back to it and started walking towards the kitchen area. The boy was petrified, he squeezed his eyes shut a couple of times and tried a couple of deep breaths.
The tv came back on! Jim spun around and stared. This time there was only statics. Suddenly a loud, creepy dark voice came from the tv:
"Jiiimmyyy..!"
Jim screamed and bolted to the front door, squeezing up against it. The tv turned off... The child stood frozen, afraid to move, short shallow breaths of fear.
A knocking on the door! Jim jerked away, back into the room. Then he swung around, looking at the tv, then back at the door. There was another knock on the door.
Jim swallowed hard and went up to the door, keeping an eye at the tv behind him. Slowly he turned the nob and opened the door, as far as the chain would allow. Outside a nice lady in her late 30's was squatting down to match his height. Her face was imposingly close in the door crack, but she smiled kindly and spoke gently:
"Well hi there! Is your daddy home?"
Jim shook his head "no".
"Awww, you're not all alone in there, are you?"
Jim nodded "yes" and almost started crying. He swallowed hard again.
"They left you here? Oh, honey... Take the chain off, open the door," she instructed.
Jim obeyed and opened the door widely, though halfway hiding behind it. He knew he wasn't supposed to talk to anyone. The lady looked at him with empathy.
"Well, they can't just leave you here. Come with me, honey. Come outside."
The lady reached out her arms. Jim hid his face in the door and cried.
"I'm not supposed to..." he sobbed.
"But you're all alone, they left you!" she protested. "Why don't you come out here and let me hold you, let's wipe those tears, what do you say?"
Jim sank down on the floor, still clutching the door and cried hysterically.
"I can't..!"
The lady peeked at him with cold eyes, then looked at the salt line by the door and decided to change the subject.
"Well now, this is a big mess!" she smiled, pointing to the salt. "Why don't you clean up the salt for me?"
Jim dried his tears and looked up at her from the door.
"Dad told me not to touch it."
"Why?" she shook her head. Jim shrugged.
"I dunno..."
The lady paused for a beat.
"Well then... I'm just gonna go now," she said and stood up from the ground. Jim got up too.
"No..!" he pleaded.
"You're not being a very good boy, Jim," she shook her head disapproving. "I asked you to come outside – you won't. I asked you to clean up the salt – you said 'no'. So I guess there's nothing more for me to do than to leave you here. All alone."
She shrugged with a sad face and turned away to leave. Jim anxiously took a step closer to the entrance.
"Please, wait..!" he protested. Then he stopped. "How did you know my name?"
The lady's eyes glowed yellow. She spun around and threw herself at the doorpost, leaning down close to Jim. He jerked, stumbled backwards into the room and fell to the floor with a yelp. Her voice was no longer sweet:
"You're not supposed to open the door either, are you Jimmy?" She sniggered and slowly shook her head at the disobedient child. "You…opened…the door for me..! Your dad is gonna be so mad at you. He's gonna beat you until there's not one inch of your body that doesn't hurt."
Jim cried hysterically on the floor, shaking his head "no".
"Do you think he likes having you here, or in his car?" she bombarded. "Driving around all day, with you and your stupid, annoying questions? Do you think he likes you, Jimmy? He's gonna beat you, and then he's gonna lock you in his trunk, and never let you out ever again. You've been very, very bad, Jim!"
She couldn't hold back an evil smirk as she witnessed his pain. Jim lay crouching in fetal position on the floor, holding his head, hyperventilating. The demon let back her human eyes, and spoke in a stern mother's voice:
"Now, you clean up this salt, Jimmy. Right now!"