Three and a Half Baby Sitters and Not One is Available
There are 365 days in a year, a large range where it is plenty likely for two people to not be busy on the very same day. Willi’s parents have three babysitters on hand at all times (four, if you count Aunt Mira, which Willi didn’t, as she spends more time watching soap operas than watching Willi). With three, maybe four, babysitters, it was almost double unlikely that they would all be unavailable the very same day (Willi wasn’t sure of the math; she was only a child, after all).
But on that very day, December 10th, when her mother went into labor with her little sibling who’s name is likely to be Wilbur (her mother has a fascination with names that begin with W), absolutely no one was available. Not Cassandra, who is the most reliable and only said no if she absolutely had to. Not Yvonne, who sometimes broke the rules to let a friend study with her, but that’s only because she’s terrible at science (Willi never tattles). Not Michael, who was young, but adamant about babysitting and does a well enough job. Not even Aunt Mira was available, deciding to go to a real opera instead.
So, for the first time in Willi’s entire life, she has the house to herself.
“We’ll be right back,” her mother had told her between contractions.
“We’ll keep trying to reach out to your babysitters,” her father had told her as he grabbed his hat.
“Stay put and don’t do anything dangerous,” they both had told her as they went out to the car.
They both drove off and Willi was alone.
The house was quiet, the quietest it has ever been. Likely the quietest it will ever be again, as babies are loud and annoying and awful. Willi didn’t see why they needed one.
Now, Willi is in her room. She has all sorts of books sprawled on her bed: notebooks, novels, poetry. She supposes she will have to clean this up. What if the baby comes home, immediately crawls to her room, and tears them all apart? That will simply not do.
Willi begins to put away her books and notebooks, spending more time reading random lines and passages than anything else.
“Faith! Faith!” cried the husband, “lookup to heaven, and resist the wicked one.”
Framton shivered slightly and turned towards the niece with a look intended to convey sympathetic comprehension. The child was staring out through the open window with dazed horror in her eyes. In a chill shock of nameless fear Framton swung round in his seat and looked in the same direction.
No teacher urged or guided me, and I do not recall hearing any human voice in all those years–not even my own; for although I had read of speech, I had never thought to try to speak aloud.
Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded–with what caution–with what foresight–with what dissimulation I went to work!
“…And, my good friend John, let me caution you. You deal with the madmen. All men are mad in some way or the other; and inasmuch as you deal discreetly with your madmen, so deal with God’s madmen, too–the rest of the world…”
There is a woman who visits me every night
I call her The Spider Lady
She comes out the hole in my ceiling
That only I can see
The last is Willi’s own writing. It is currently unfinished, but she has good ideas for it, so instead of putting it on a shelf, she opens the drawer of her desk and carefully places it in there.
There’s also five dollars in her desk. She decides to take it. This is the first time she is alone, after all. She may have a need for it.
As Willi moves to close the desk drawer, there is a large groan. This is a big, old house, belonging once to Willi’s great grandmother, so groans are not especially unusual. But this groan doesn’t sound like the settling of wood. No, it is much too loud and it sounds like it is coming from everywhere. And it lasts for so long.
Eventually, the groaning does stop, but something feels different. Willi doesn’t know why, but she decides to go to the window and look out.
Everything is gone.
No streets, no snow, no neighbors’ houses.
Pure black.
As if someone stole the whole outside.
Thank you for reading the first chapter! This is just a little Call of Cthulhu game that I play by myself, but I thought the story was interesting and weird enough to share!
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