Short Scary Stories

Dreams

I was never really fond of children since I was a child myself. I didn't like baby dolls or any doll in particular, for that matter. I was more of a stuffed animal lover. I remember having dozens of them on my bed when I finally curled up to sleep.
But I never had baby dolls. I hated the way they looked at me, and I hated their plastic skin. Everyone forced me to have them when I opened up my gifts on my birthday and Christmas. I gave them all away just days after.
But now, being nearly sixteen years old and trying to pay my own way, I've found one of the easiest jobs I can take, and that's babysitting. Just thinking of dealing with kids makes me shudder. I feel as if they have a special ability to them that only they can discover.
The first couple who was willing to hire me offered to pay me seven dollars an hour for four hours tonight. It's a Friday night, so I know they'll be out for awhile, like most parents. They do it to get away from their kids so they don't have to watch them sulk and throw temper tantrums.
I step up to the door of the house and knock slowly, quite nervous. I've never babysat children or babies before, and this couple has two girls, a five-year-old and a toddler who has just passed two years last month. I'm not exactly too excited with my choice, but it's what has to be done.
I ring the doorbell, hearing it chime from inside. It takes a few seconds, and I cherish that time to breathe in and out a few times to get my head straight.
The door opens, much to my dismay, and the mother, who I know as Sarah, smiles at me. She wears a beautiful silk dress and nice high heels, not really my choice of clothing, but it suits her just fine.
"Maya, come in." She opens the door wider to let me through, and I step in.
Although I've only been in this house once, it seems a bit more familiar, like déjà vu. I rub my temples as I hear the door close and her heels clack over to me. I don't see her husband anywhere, and I don't really care. I just want this to be over.
"Daniel, she's here, we have to go!" Sarah calls as she picks up her purse.
Daniel comes down the stairs as he adjusts his tie that goes perfect with his suit. He greets me as I look around the living room. It's not very big, but the house itself seems okay for a family of four to live comfortably in. I see pictures on the walls of them, from the couple getting married all the way to their second daughter's birthday. A proud family, I can tell.
"We'll be back around eleven. Scarlett is in the kitchen in her high chair eating a snack, and Melina is upstairs coloring," Sarah says as she puts in her earrings.
I peek into the kitchen and see that Scarlett is throwing her dry cereal all over the floor from the tray of her high chair. She seems to be having a good time, dropping the Cheerios one by one and banging the tray.
"And Scarlett goes to bed at eight, and Melina can stay up until nine, no later. Don't let her fool you," Daniel pipes up.
"Have they had dinner?" I ask over the loud noise in the kitchen.
"Yeah, but Melina can have a snack before bed. No cookies or ice cream, though. There's some crackers in the cabinet," Sarah explains.
I nod and watch as Scarlett bangs on the high chair tray even more. I'm developing a headache but I don't say anything.
"Oh, and we usually leave a candle burning in the kitchen to keep the house smelling good, so please make sure you blow it out soon," Daniel says.
I make that my most important mental note.
"I've given them both baths and they're in their pajamas, you're all set," Sarah says as they head to the door. "Thank you for watching them."
"No problem."
They leave silently, and I turn to the kitchen. I feel myself shaking as I draw closer to the noisy toddler in the kitchen. When I get to her, I notice that she's dropped at lest a fourth of a bag of cereal on the ground. Crumbs of whatever she ate are on her mouth. There's a sippy cup on the tray and it is tipped over, and the milk is dribbling out.
I can smell the sent of vanilla behind me, and I know it's the candle burning. I keep reminding myself to blow it out later before they get home so it looks like I made an effort.
"I take it you're full," I tell Scarlett awkwardly. 
She smiles at me. I get a paper towel and clean her face, making her grunt and pull away. She starts moving around, trying to get out of the high chair, so I take her out and let her down, and she runs off to the living room. I sigh and clean up the mess of cereal on the floor.
When it's clean, I push the high chair to the corner so it's out of the way and follow Scarlett to the living room, where she's taking out many toys from a toy box and throwing them on the ground. I trail after her and pick up the toys, throwing them back in the box.
She runs around on her chubby little legs and starts making loud noises with her mouth, jumping around. I feel my head start to pound and hurt more each time she yells out. I sit down and close my eyes, and I feel her little hands grab my knees and pull herself into my lap.
"You just can't make this easy, can you?" I ask.
I hear little feet coming down the stairs, and I see Melina stand on the landing. She sighs and comes to sit with me. I've met her, and she knows the rules her parents set.
"She's bothering me," she complains, pointing to Scarlett.
"Well, she's only little. She doesn't know much better," I say.
When I look at Melina, I see something familiar about her face, like I've seen it many times before but just can't remember. Her dark eyes stare at me, and I feel like I know those eyes, like it seems I have looked at them a hundred times over.
"What are you staring at?" She asks.
"Nothing," I mumble, rubbing my eyes.
The thoughts keep coming at me, and they don't leave me alone. Finally, it's time for Scarlett to go to sleep. I pick her up and try to hold her without the fear of dropping her. She's already sleepy, so I take her to her room and lay her down in her crib. She falls asleep almost instantly, and I sigh and turn off the light.
Melina is watching some boring cartoons downstairs, and I just sit by her, not knowing what to do. She is in control of the remote, and she turns the channel to some slasher film where a man is brutally butchering a woman as she screams. I'm startled by the image and snatch the remote, changing it back to the cartoons.
"I watch that all the time, why are you scared?" She asks.
"You shouldn't be watching that," I say as I stare at the brightly-colored animals on the TV.
I keep thinking over and over that I've been here so many times. I feel the comfort of this couch and the soft feeling of the creme-colored walls, like this is my home. I feel safe here when I know I shouldn't.
I wait and watch the TV absentmindedly, fiddling with my jacket and watching the minutes tick by on the clock. It strikes nine, and I turn the TV off and lead Melina to her room.
She gets into her bed and lays down like she knows the drill, and I expect her to ask for a story or a lullaby, but she closes her eyes immediately. I'm shocked at the way she doesn't protest or pout that she has to go to sleep, but I feel grateful for it.
I turn off her light and close the door, tiptoeing downstairs.
The house it quiet and still. I feel nervous by the silence. It's like I'm the only one here, and I've never liked the feeling of being so alone in a large place. I sit on the couch and curl up, since the house is clean and the kids are asleep.
A nap wouldn't hurt. I close my eyes and slowly fall asleep in the comfort of what seems like my home.

I smell something burning, like a fire is raging. My eyes open immediately to the smell, and I sit up. I hear screams coming from upstairs, and when I look to my right, I see a blaze going on.
I get up and run to the kitchen, realizing I'd left the candle burning while I was asleep. The fire is small where I stand, but it's spreading up the wall to the second floor. More screams and cries come from above, and I run upstairs. I stop midway when I see the floor by the kids' rooms lit up by the fire.
It's coming from inside both of them, so I rush into Scarlett's room, only to find the fire crawling to her crib. She's standing up, screaming as she's frightened. She reaches her little hand out to the blaze.
"No, don't touch it!" I scream, trying to get to her before the fire eats her up.
"Maya, help!" Melina screams from the next room.
I'm torn between getting Scarlett out and helping Maya, but I realize it's too late to help the poor toddler, so I tell her I'm sorry and run to the next door. Inside, Melina is backed against the wall. The fire spreads more, and she's screaming for help. I know that if I try to get her, I will burn to death. I start to lose it as I don't hear Scarlett crying anymore, and I run back downstairs to call 911.
Before I can get to the phone in the living room, which is unaffected by the blaze, I fall to the ground and the world goes dark.

I wake screaming and pulling at my hair. My eyes open to the bright white room I've known for three months. White-washed walls and a sterile scent are all I know now. I look down and see my hospital-issued pajamas are soaked in my sweat. The nurses say I have to wear them so they know I'm a patient.
The door opens and a nurse comes in. She sighs and runs a hand over her tired face. I hiccup and look around, finding a photo in a frame on my nightstand. It's me holding Scarlett with Melina by my side. They say this was one of the only photos they could recover from the fire.
"Is it your sisters again?" The nurse asks.
I dream of that fire every night, but instead of me being their sister, I'm their babysitter. But it ends the same way: the fire kills them because I left the candle burning when my mom and dad told me to blow it out.
"It's been three months since my sisters died! I killed them, and now the dreams won't go away! Go away, please, I'm not crazy!"
I fall back onto the bed and breathe in the scent if the mental institution I live in. I bring my hands to my ears as I hear the screams of them again.
"Go away!"
~
This was probably confusing and I feel ashamed to have created it. This was my failed attempt at a good plot twist. I'm awful. I'm probably going to have to rewrite this piece of crap, depending on what you think. This isn't edited either, and Notes is being a bitch.
Bye!
~
Sierra 👻