Gloria Attebury took the phone away from her ear and sighed, how was she in a relationship with someone who thought babysitting equaled cheating? She was on the phone, sitting on the couch, her choice of movie frozen in pause on the TV. “I’m still here, Johnny.”
“So, I guess dinner is canceled…again?” sneered Johnny. This wasn’t the first time this happened. Gloria was a babysitter, and she made some good money, and that money went to horror films, something he never helped her get. She collected them, had been since she was four. But he was against women liking horror films. “Maybe if you bought me a movie every once in a while, we’d have dinner.”
“Never mind, dinner is dumb. Me and the guys will get pizza and play X-Box, be real adults, instead of earning money for stupid scary movies! Bye!”
“Real adult, jerk!” Gloria hissed and he hung up. Gloria looked to her right and jumped. The little girl she was watching stood there. Her cousin was supposed to be watching her, but her cousin had gotten invited to a wine tasting and her cousin was a wino. “What are you doing up?”
“There’s a monster in my closet,” the little girl sniffed.
“Marcia, monsters don’t live in closets, just under the bed,” said Gloria. Marcia’s eyes widened in horror. “But they are super cool and just want to be your friend. Specially now since Boy was defeated.”
“Yes there is!” said Marcia. “He’s a clown.”
Thanks, Tricia. Gloria had a phobia of clowns, that had only gotten worse when she was raped by a clown. Sounds a bit far-fetched, but it was what happened. “Let’s get you back to bed,” she said, forcing a smile on her face.
Gloria put the little girl back to bed, tucked her in with her favorite plushie and turned out the light. The air in her room was so crisp, so sweet, that it was like taking a bite into a dessert. “Please don’t turn the light off!” cried the little girl.
“There’s no one here,” said Gloria. “Just go to bed.”
And with that, Gloria shut the door and headed downstairs. Her phone was ringing. Gloria smiled a smug little shit eater smile as she looked at the number. The screen said Blocked was calling. Johnny was probably calling way of his best friend’s phone, a number she blocked years ago. She answered. It was still in the cool of the early night, and she was drinking iced tea instead of beer. “Hello?”
“You left her alone with me!” cackled a voice. “She’s going to die!”
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