The Odd Family's Book of Bedtime Stories

The Reflection

I didn't enjoy babysitting on the best days, but I also needed the money. It's not like babysitting is hard- especially not for the Johnson kids. They were two young boys that were well behaved. It was as easy as setting down a pizza and picking a movie. On nights that didn't work, a game always did. It was an easy sixty bucks. Tonight was one of those nights.

Checking on them one more time, I closed their bedroom door and shuffled down the stairs to the living room. The Johnson's wouldn't be home until late- the typical date night with dinner and a movie. I turned off the lights as I went. Mrs. Johnson got grouchy if a lot of lights were on when she got home.

I didn't have any homework to do, so I settled in and picked a movie. I had every streaming service and cable at my disposal when I was at the Johnsons. Picking up an already cold slice of greasy pizza, I flopped onto the couch to wait. It was one of those comfortable ones with attached cushions.

I couldn't watch horror movies with the kids since it would make them hard to get to sleep, so I picked one. The house was dark and quiet, even quieter with a blanket of snow outside. It was the perfect setting for a scary movie. I picked an old black and white movie I hadn't seen before. They weren't usually known for the plots or special effects, but there was still something about them I loved. The movie came to life on the big screen in front of me, softly illuminating the room.

I was about halfway through the movie when the harsh light of my cell phone snapped to life, drawing my attention. Reaching for it, I deftly checked the notification. It was a news bulletin warning me about an escaped killer. I laughed, thinking about the irony of the situation. Here I was, watching a horror movie in a strange house and a killer was on the loose. I quickly tapped the notification and pulled up the warning.

Officials are asking local communities to be a little more cautious tonight. Henry T. Havoc- arrested in 2009 for the brutal murders of several local teens- has escaped custody. Given the dropping temperatures, police fear Havoc will seek a place to take shelter. They are asking locals to make sure their doors are locked. If you see Havoc or anyone matching his description, please call emergency services.

In the middle of the screen was a photo of Havoc, his orange jumpsuit hanging off one shoulder. It was hard to describe what made someone look crazy, but he definitely looked like he was insane. It was something about the eyes. I didn't read the rest of the article, describing what he had done. I didn't want to scare myself even more. I couldn't believe I had let myself get so scared in the first place, but I could feel the tension in my shoulders and my heart racing. Knowing I was being ridiculous, I got up and checked on the boys one more time, just in case. I also checked the doors to the house, making sure they were locked. I saw nothing outside.

It was the doors in the living room that made me uneasy. They were glass patio style doors that overlooked the backyard during the day. At night they were just large black mirrors. I couldn't see more than a few feet beyond them. The living room felt quieter to me and even had a strange, faint smell. I kept telling myself I was imagining things until I could move forward to check those doors as well.

The lock slid into place easily with a satisfying click, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. I reached out slowly for the switch beside me. The floodlights on either side of the doors came to life and lit up the backyard. I think a part of me really believed that there wouldn't be anything there. I had scared myself by looking at the killer's photo, and imagined something watching me. When I saw him standing there, I couldn't even scream.

He was further back in the yard, by an old swing set no one used anymore, and staring right at me. It was definitely the escaped murderer. His eyes still had the same crazy look. He didn't even seem cold, wasn't shivering or rubbing his bare arms. He simply stood there, staring at me and smiling. I jumped and sprung to action, fumbling with my cell phone as I dialed 9-1-1.

I quickly described the intruder to the operator that answered. He had a bright orange jumpsuit, dark hair, and that menacing grin. I couldn't look away. I told her the address and promised not to move while I waited for the police. If I didn't take my eyes off of him, he couldn't sneak around and possibly get the kids. She promised that help was on the way. She told me I had to stay on the phone with her. It was hard to focus on her questions, watching him smile like that in the freezing cold.

He took a few steps forward, and I cried out, taking a few back. The operator asked me if there was anywhere I could go, a door I could lock, or weapons I could grab if he broke the glass. I knew I had to think of those things, but I couldn't focus. There was something strange about the killer in the yard, something I couldn't quite figure out.

"...I don't know." I squinted, looking at his waist. It was as if he wasn't fully there. It was almost like he was a ghost. He took another step forward. "It's like he's there but he's not." I told the operator. Then I looked down at the snow he was standing in and my blood ran cold. It was as if my skin had turned to marble and I could feel my heart in my throat. The snow was pristine where the killer stood, without a mark... without footprints. To my left I could see actual footprints. These lead up to the door- the door I had just locked.

The operator was asking me something but I couldn't understand her. I looked up, meeting the killer's empty gaze. I wasn't seeing Havoc in the yard. I was seeing him in the house. It was his reflection.