Friday, July 08, 2005
She's Baa-aaaack
Scary. That scary, freaky little girl who was haunting me last summer was back this week. I had almost forgotten her. Occasionally, I have seen her knocking on other neighbors' doors and being turned away. I was afraid that she would show up on our doorstep on Halloween and scare me, but I guess she didn't want to go out in the rain.
I was working in my office and Kevin was working outside in the yard. He came in calling my name in a way that told me something was terribly awry.
Kevin: Ummmm...Sara?
Me: What? What's wrong?
Kevin: That freaky little girl is outside.
Me: (shaking my head wildly back and forth)
Kevin: She wants to pet the dog. I told her Top was sick.
Me: (still violently shaking my head "no") No. Deal with her. Make her go away.
Kevin: No way. Nuh-uh. She has all this make up on and she's standing out there in this little bikini thing. It feels weird. You do it.
He had a point. It wasn't appropriate for him to be out there conversing with a ten year old little freak in a bikini and a face full of makeup. Where is her mother? I go to the front door and open it slightly.
Me: Yes?
Shannon: HI! DO YOU REMEMBER ME?
Me: Sort of. (I lied. Of course I remember her. She burns down my house and laughs at the horror in my nightmares.)
Shannon: Can I pet your dog?
Me: No. Top's sick. Really sick. She's not taking visitors.
Shannon: WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER?
Me: She's, umm, sick.
Hearing her name mentioned, Top, who is not sick, came prancing to the door, bouncing around happily to be having company. She loves children, even evil ones.
Shannon: HEY! THERE SHE IS!! (She starts pushing her way in the door to get to Top) ARE YOU SICK? ARE YOU SIIIIIIICK?
Me: Yeah, she's...uhh...ummm....really sick.
Shannon: I CAN HELP TAKE CARE OF HER!
Me: No!
Shannon: ONE TIME, MY DOG THREW UP! I GUESS HE WAS SICK, TOO!
Me: (silence)
Shannon: CAN I PET YOUR CAT?
Me: No. You can't pet the cat. Go on home.
Shannon: (deflated) Alright.
We locked the door and peeked out the front windows to watch her leave. She went to her bike and danced around for a bit pulling on her swim suit as if there was a bee. Finally she picked up her bike and took off. When she had turned the corner I told Kevin it was safe to go back outside.
Kevin: She's creepy.
Me: I know! I told you!
Scary. That scary, freaky little girl who was haunting me last summer was back this week. I had almost forgotten her. Occasionally, I have seen her knocking on other neighbors' doors and being turned away. I was afraid that she would show up on our doorstep on Halloween and scare me, but I guess she didn't want to go out in the rain.
I was working in my office and Kevin was working outside in the yard. He came in calling my name in a way that told me something was terribly awry.
Kevin: Ummmm...Sara?
Me: What? What's wrong?
Kevin: That freaky little girl is outside.
Me: (shaking my head wildly back and forth)
Kevin: She wants to pet the dog. I told her Top was sick.
Me: (still violently shaking my head "no") No. Deal with her. Make her go away.
Kevin: No way. Nuh-uh. She has all this make up on and she's standing out there in this little bikini thing. It feels weird. You do it.
He had a point. It wasn't appropriate for him to be out there conversing with a ten year old little freak in a bikini and a face full of makeup. Where is her mother? I go to the front door and open it slightly.
Me: Yes?
Shannon: HI! DO YOU REMEMBER ME?
Me: Sort of. (I lied. Of course I remember her. She burns down my house and laughs at the horror in my nightmares.)
Shannon: Can I pet your dog?
Me: No. Top's sick. Really sick. She's not taking visitors.
Shannon: WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER?
Me: She's, umm, sick.
Hearing her name mentioned, Top, who is not sick, came prancing to the door, bouncing around happily to be having company. She loves children, even evil ones.
Shannon: HEY! THERE SHE IS!! (She starts pushing her way in the door to get to Top) ARE YOU SICK? ARE YOU SIIIIIIICK?
Me: Yeah, she's...uhh...ummm....really sick.
Shannon: I CAN HELP TAKE CARE OF HER!
Me: No!
Shannon: ONE TIME, MY DOG THREW UP! I GUESS HE WAS SICK, TOO!
Me: (silence)
Shannon: CAN I PET YOUR CAT?
Me: No. You can't pet the cat. Go on home.
Shannon: (deflated) Alright.
We locked the door and peeked out the front windows to watch her leave. She went to her bike and danced around for a bit pulling on her swim suit as if there was a bee. Finally she picked up her bike and took off. When she had turned the corner I told Kevin it was safe to go back outside.
Kevin: She's creepy.
Me: I know! I told you!
