Baby Sitter-My Short Story

 

 

Hey guys I have this assignment for my Creative Writing Class coming up soon. The assignment was to complete a short story. We get to decide the ideas and plot  which is cool. This assignment is not due until the first week of March,  why not ask my fellow bloggers and book fans to read my short story? Here is what I crafted. The idea came into my head pretty fast which was good. Being a short story I got excited over this assignment. Fun assignments are good assignments!  The title of this  short story is Babysitter. While baby sitting her bosses children Selina comes across an ancient artifact inside of a closet. She grows curious about this artifact and why it was hidden away in a closet. I got the idea for this short story from Creative-Writing-Now.com. This website had incredible ideas for short stories, so I’m recommending it for sure!  Please let me know if this sounds interesting or not.  Hopefully no one  from my class reads this and steal my idea lol.

 

And they lived happily ever after,” I tell Peter and Susie. Tonight I read them Cinderella. I close the book, placing It back into the bookcase. It’s always amazed me how children of each decade enjoy the same stories. My mom and dad read me these same stories when I grew up. Talk about nostalgia. I turn my attention back to the children” time for bed guys,” they do not seem to enjoy me, saying this. I hated being told when to go to bed as a child as well.

 

“ Could you read us one more story?” Susie asks, holding her hands together. I go over and kiss her forehead.

 

“ Not tonight sweetie. If you guys need anything I’ll be downstairs ok?”

“ When is mommy, coming home?” Peter asks.

“ She’ll be home sooner if you go to sleep now,” I tell him, flicking the light switch off” good night,”

“ Good night,” they both say as I close their bedroom door. Next I let out sigh of relieve, pulling out my cell phone to check what time it is. Two more hours and I’ll gain the one hundred dollars for, babysitting tonight. It’s sort of strange, babysitting for my boss since I see her so much, during the week. By the way I work as a hair stylish at a huge salon in downtown Seattle. I guess someone could say we’re friends now, yet she only feels more like a boss to me. Mrs. Johnson is a determined woman which I admire, yet she can also be a bit harsh around the office. She does not speak to us often, She’s all business although she does buy all of her employees lunch once and a while. It’s also strange to think that she’s only a few years older than me, yet owns her own business. Now that is pretty epic. Tonight I was suppose to go to a huge party with a few of my friends, but upsetting my boss by not, watching over her children would not have gone well. Sure I will watch over your little angels. No problem especially for one hundred dollars. On the other hand, it does shock me that she does not have a baby sitter for her children already. Look at her house. It’s gorgeous. There is a waterfall on the eastern side of the home. She lives on the outskirts of town which is cool. I like my privacy as well although, living around town equals more shops and food. To each its own.

At first I thought Mrs.Johnson was going on a date, yet that is inaccurate. Rumor goes that Mrs .Johnson has not dated since her divorce four years ago. My parents divorced when I was fourteen. I cannot imagine, having my parents divorce when I am only six or eight years old like Peter and Susie. The good thing is they’re really awesome children. I’d rather watch them than attend a party on most days. My stomach starts to growl. Man am I hungry. I have not eaten since lunch. Into the kitchen I go. All of the food inside this fridge looks amazing. I bet Mrs. Johnson also has a five star chief. Guess I’ll eat a couple Greek yogurts. It would be embarrassing to eat all of her food although I am tempted. Besides the amazing food look at the view. From the porch window This house is set above a large hill. The beach is right below us. Oregon gets chilly, yet the nature around here is breathe taking. My phone starts to ring. It’s Kelly.

 

“ Hey Kelly,” I say. Kelly is like my best friend in the world and universe.

 

“ Are you, having fun?” she asks, realizing how badly I wanted to attend the party. In the background I hear loud music, playing. I heard One Republic was, preforming tonight. Guess not every college student gets to party.

 

“ Sort of. Her kids are pretty cool. This house is also amazing,”

 

“ I’m sure she’ll give you a raise now,” she jokes.

 

Leaning back on the sofa I respond” Sure. She probably gives all of her employees a raise after, working for her for only two months,”

 

“Definitely. You’ll have enough money now to take me on a trip to Los Angeles or Honolulu,”

 

“ Yes, and your salary from Target will get us enough money to come back home,” I say, laughing.

 

Kelly and I speak for a few more moments until I say good bye. One more hour passes by. The children are fast asleep, yet I am, growing bored. Even this 50 inch plasma screen TV can keep my attention for so long. I grow curious and search the home. Again this place is gigantic. There are three bathrooms on the 1st floor only. Her storage closet puts mine to death. If I were, staying over I’d definitely try out the treadmill and the rest of her work out equipment. I’ve got to find Mrs.Johnson’s wardrobe before leaving. She has amazing taste based off the clothing she normally wears at work. She looks like a Victoria Secret model compared to us peasants. In her bedroom I find her closet. It’s larger than my bedroom and bathroom from my apartment. Her entire wardrobe is like a mix of the best fashion magazines combined. I’d be a fool to not try on some of her clothing. After, trying on a few of her dresses I can tell the wealthy lifestyle is fit for me. Maybe someday I’ll be able to afford this clothing. For now I’ll gaze at Mrs. Johnson’s beauty. As I place the dress back into the closet above me a large box falls. Luckily the box fell past me, landing on the floor. A bunch of items fall from the box, such as glass cups, silverware etc. Thankfully only one of the glass cups broke, yet she will probably fire me still when, finding out. I’d better get into the unemployment line now. The box smells like a can of dry warms. Underneath the box from the shelf there is a decent sized photo. This photo looks expensive. In fact, the photo looks like something from the middle ages based on its pictorial and architectural style. This photo depicts the angel Gabriel visiting Mary. Man, is it beautiful. Yes, I am an artsy, history buff. Anyways, what is it doing in this box? This photo looks amazing. Why is this not hung on a wall within the house like the rest of Mrs. Johnson’s art? She has such a fine taste in art. Many of her photos are of different individuals, posing. They look so real, yet are only paint.This isn’t doddle art, so why is it hidden away.? Could Mrs. Johnson be Lara Croft? Ok enough daydreaming Selina. After, placing the box on top of the art piece I exit her closet and return to the living room. I better get started on my excuses as to why I was in her closet now and broke one her glass cups. Clearly those glass cups were not from Wal-Mart or even Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Does she have a how to create the perfect excuse for dummies manual? No, silly Selina. I will look that up online. Clever Selina clever.

Since I already watched enough television I minds well surf the web on my phone. As I go through my Facebook page I notice many people, talking about a break in at the Seattle Art Museum. Someone or a group of robbers broke into the art museum and stole a rare artifact from the Byzantine Empire. It shows the missing artifact which is an art piece aka a photo of the virgin Mary being visited by Gabriel. This probably sounds crazy, none the less, the art piece they stole looks like the one from Mrs .Johnson’s box. Is Mrs. Johnson a robber? She does keep her office door shut while on the phone a lot. There is also that strange man who comes around once a week who never says hello back to me. If they are not dating as she claims, then what type of relationship do they really have? Before my curiosity goes Bizz irk maybe I should investigate first. It’s better to have facts than theories. Mrs. Johnson will not come home for another thirty minutes or so. Back into her closet I go.

 

I pick up the box and stare at the art piece again. Yes, this is the same photo from the museum, yet that does not mean she stole it. I’ve got to find more clues, so on my phone I search for more missing art pieces around the area of Seattle. There looks like a few more robberies have occurred. No information on the crooks, yet this must be the same group, robbing each museum. Suddenly I remember the room Mrs. Johnson told me to stay out of. It is right below the staircase. This I must check out.

The door knob is locked, yet there must be a key, laying around here somewhere. Under a plant vase I find a key. Bingo! Before I enter Kelly calls me.

 

“ Still bored?”

“ Nope. I think my boss is a robber. She has a rare piece of art hidden inside her closet,”

“ No way?”

“ Yes way. Right now I’m, trying to get into her secret lair.”

“ I think you should stop, searching. What if she comes home and finds you snooping?”

“ That won’t happen. If I do not respond in twenty minutes call the police,”

In a rush I open the door, creeping down the dark stairway. The only light comes from my cell phone, yet the battery is low. It feels like I’ve entered Norman Bates basement. Most of the basement is empty besides the large pieces of art, laying about. These items were also stolen from other museums. Mrs. Johnson is up to something. Above me I hear the front door open. Did Mrs. Johnson come home early? Quickly I text Kelly HELP before my phone goes dead. Whoever entered the house walks towards the door and closes it. I hear them, walking upstairs. Time to escape. Slowly I creep up the stairs and walk out. As I turn toward the front door Mrs. Johnson comes towards me.

“ How were the children?” she asks, looking pale in comparison. I can’t tell if she knows or not. I hope my poker face is decent.

“ They were great.” I respond, trying to smile. She crosses her arms.

“ Is there something wrong? I found this broken in my room,” she asks, holding up the glass cup. Yep I’m dead meat now.

“ I’m sorry. I was curious and tried on some of your clothing. I dropped the box by accident,”

For a moment Mrs. Johnson stares at me. She’s reminding me of the wicked witch of the East with her deep green eyes. Hmm what creature do I turn Selina into? Maybe a cat or a mouse? Before I panic she finally speaks.

“ Do you like my art?” she says, staring at a photo of a young girl. The girl is standing on a farm, holding a basket in her right hand. She’s, picking flowers within a field of dirt. I only nod my head” she could really use a friend” she tells me.

” Mrs. Johnson I must be going now,” I tell her, creeping towards the front door.

” But I have not paid you. Please wait here and  I will warm us up some tea,”

“ No thank you. I must really get, going now,” I tell her, but she stops me. I cannot move.

“ Did you really think I’d allow you to leave now? I must take your picture first. Please follow me,” she orders, holding a wand. Holy cow she really is a witch.

There is no where to run or hide. I follow Mrs. Johnson down the stairway. Moments later everything went dark. I can hardly feel my heart beat. Before my life slips away completely I wake up in a brand, new, world. I’m on a farm. It is so warm. The air is terribly dry. Ahead of me in a field of dirt stands a young girl, picking flowers. The flower looks like a daisy.

“ Hello,” she says, smiling.

“ Where am I?” I ask not understanding.

“ You’re in Kansas of course,”

“ What year is it?”

“ 1903. What is your name?” she asks, holding up a daisy.

“ My name is Selina. What is yours?”

“Dorothy,” she says as I hear a small dog, barking from her basket. In the distance I hear a terrible shriek of laughter. We’re so not in the twenty first century anymore.

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7 thoughts on “Baby Sitter-My Short Story

  1. Hi, I have just finished reading your short story and I admit it is intriquing. I liked the part where I discovered Mrs Johnson had a picture in her closet and looked to be the thief. That was pretty cool. I was a little confused about the picture bit, at the end, which showed either it was just mashed and written hurriedly or I read it too quickly and I didn’t appreciate the message. I go with the latter. I’ll tell you why: I reread it and I slowed it down and realized what actually happened .
    And it is lingering on my mind – which is the sign of good writing. So, well done!

    Liked by 1 person

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