After my attempt at a warning, I was expeg even a slight hint of remorse on the faces of any of the children; instead, the three quickly exged gnces before fag me seriously side by side. "Yoing to be down," Francis said seriously, advang from their small formation, puffing out his chest. He even seemed to stand on tiptoe slightly, trying to appear intimidating, followed by his two even younger brothers who simultaneously nodded seriously.
Uo help it, I chuckled at the children's clumsy attempt at intimidation. "Well, while you're at it, I'll be with Dewey," I said, still amused, as I walked out of the room. "Oh, and if you want to watch TV or py a game before dinner and your parents arrive, you know where to find me," I sarcastically teased as I left their room.
They were just kids, what could they do?
Returning to the living room, Dewey had somehow mao ge the TV el to a pletely inappropriate movie for a child his age. "Wow, buddy, that's not cartoons," I quickly remarked as I took the remote to search for cartoons again on TV and remove the semi-naked woman Deatg.
"I'll stick with this," I said, putting away the remote after finding cartoons, shaking my head slightly at the calm child. "Do you want a snack?" I asked the child, who responded by nodding while maintaining deep eye tact.
"Okay," puzzled by the child's behavior, I said as I walked to the kit.
Midway to the kit, Mal suddenly appeared in the hallway, looking surprised to find me in his path. "Oh, PJ," the child quickly said, moving swiftly past the dining table toward the living room. "I wao watch TV too," the child tinued with a strangely forced smile.
Again puzzled by another child's behavior in this house, I nodded, pointing to the chair where his younger brother was sitting. "Do you want a snack too?" I asked the child, pointing with my thumb to the kit behind me.
"Yeah," the child said strangely nervously as he sat o his brother. "Oh, PJ!" before I could turn to tinue walking to the kit, Mal suddenly excimed, catg my attention.
"Yes? What's up?" surprised by the sudden shout.
"Oh, nothing," after a few seds of calming his suddenly agitated breathing, the child quickly responded. He seemed to be watchful behind me, as if searg for something. Obviously, his behavior was suspicious, making me quickly turn sharply to see what was grabbing his attention. Again, I could sehat something was going on.
The kids were pnning something.
Cheg the kit with fusion as I hadn't heard or seen anything ing from there, I approached slowly, prepared for anything the kids might have prepared.
Not seeing anything, I approached much more calmly before being drawn to the window pointing to the Wilkersons' garden. Being mid-October, the su much earlier, making the garden in front of us dark, or at least it should have been. "Is that fire?" surprised, I quickly asked, heading out the gss door beside a round table.
Inside one of those metal trash s with a horrible chemical smell emanating from it, a 'trolled' fire was lighting up the garden. Quickly looking for something to extinguish the fire, I found the metal lid a few steps away, which I immediately used to close the tainer, hoping it would be enough to smother the fmes. A few seds ter, with the garden hose and careful not to burn my hands, I removed the lid to spray the remnants of whatever the kids used to start the fire.
Now I saw that the woman's warning was not in vain. What kind of kids start a fire? And why did they do it?
Moving away from the smelly mess the kids caused, I returhe hose to its pce before trying to re-ehe house, or at least attempting to.
The gss door through which I had goo the garden was closed. Now I uand.
Knog on the door, trying to get Dewey's attention, who was fag away from me watg TV, I was surprised when suddenly the three older Wilkerson kids appeared in front of me, sharing terrified smiles.
"Very funny, kids, e o me in," a bit annoyed by their bold and proud smiles, I said.
"What?" obviously pretending not to hear me, Reese put his hands behind his ears, asking from the other side of the gss door.
Taking a deep breath to think about what to do, I pretended for a few seds in front of the kids before quickly running to the other door a few steps away from me. I hoped they had fotten to close at least one of the entrances, being followed by the kids from ihe house.
The door, like the previous one, was closed, as was the one and the windows after them. Finally, I returo the door I had exited through. "e o me in, you've had enough fun," I said, more annoyed.
"I don't think so," with a proud smile, Francis said, approag the door. "This is our decision, good night, PJ," he tinued mog before quickly closing the curtain.
---
After Francis closed the curtain, we briefly celebrated. "Yes, that'll teach him," Reese proudly said before stopping. "Now what do we do?" he asked, looking to Francis for an ahat my older brother seemed uo give.
"I don't know, we could watch TV," uainly tributed, that's J had offered us. Well, if anyone was to bme, it was Mom; we didn't need a babysitter.
"That's it, Mal," excitedly said Francis before quickly running to our room and back, carrying what seemed to be a movie box. "Let's watch this; Richie got it from his cousin," Francis tinued showing the box first to Reese. "It, great, I heard other kids talking about it at school," Reese said excitedly as we walked together to the living room.
"Move," with a shove, Reese removed Dewey from the ter of the cou front of the TV before passing the movie to Francis, who ied it into the pyer.
"Now, Dewey, give us the remote," stretg his hand, Francis ordered our younger brother, who just stared bnkly at Francis with his usual ck of rea. "Find it," a moment ter, probably getting tired of Dewey's ck of response, Francis ordered Reese, who briskly started searg under my younger brother and around the sofa.
"It's not here," frustrated Reese said, stopping his search after rummaging through all the sofa cushions.
"He probably has it, PJ," annoyed Francis said, g his fists.
"y the movie without the remote," I quickly said as I stood up. I had seen Dad do it the day he brought the pyer a few years ago, before Dewey was born.
"Good," Francis quickly ged his attitude, allowio pass towards the TV.
It only took a few button presses to make the movie visible. I quickly put on the movie and ran to the sofa, getting fortable. It had already started, but not much had happened yet. For now, there was only a child in a yellow raincoat running uhe rain, seemingly chasing a small paper boat.
"Ha, how silly," amused Reese said when the child's paper boat fell into a sewer.
Suddenly, the music that had been pying in the se stopped, and the disappointed child in the movie was looking ihe sewer, with only the sound of rain audible.
The sewer was pletely dark, and for some reason, that was genuinely creepy. It seemed like nothing was going to happen in the movie until suddenly, "Hello, Geie," a voice said, making Reese jump in fright. "Ha, you got scared," I teased him, hiding that I was also a bit scared.
"It's not tru—" Reese was defending himself. "," but he interrupted himself when a appeared in the sewer in the movie.
The child in the raincoat and the started a versation about talking ters, and the sititude of the along with the eerie music made everything chilling. The , for some reason, had balloons in the sewer, and the foolish child in the raincoat didn't find it strahat the strange knew his name.
Fortunately, the child ighe balloon the sinister man was . Unfortunately, the had the little paper boat the child was following.
"The kid is going to die," fear in his voice, Reese asserted.
I didn't bother pointing out the obvious fear in my brother's voice because I was sure my voice souhe same or worse than his.
As the child reached his hand to take the paper boat, unsciously, Francis, Reese, and I approached with fear, listening to the speak mgressively until suddenly the child's hand was taken. The four of us, including Dewey, started screaming. The face of the with horrible sharp teeth and creepy yellow eyes was the st thing we saw before the TV turned off, making us all scream again.
---
"What the heck do you think you're doing?" Being part of the first line of emergency, you learn some tricks to open doors. Unfortunately, with the ck of lighting, the task bees quite plicated, especially if the only tool you have is a hospital ID card.
"Oh, it's you, PJ, thank God," frightened Mal was the first to react after they screamed again.
"Obviously, it's me. Who else would it be?" I asked the kid, annoyed, as I approached Dewey, who was g. What were the kids thinking, putting something scary in front of the little boy?
"A killer ," still scared, Reese affirmed, making Dewey, now on my shoulder, cry even more.
Signaling Reese to be quiet with gestures while lifting Dewey, I assured the g child on my shoulder, "It's okay, buddy, calm down, nothing's wrong."
"I 't believe you made your brh this," annoyed with the kids, I said, still trying to calm the little boy in my arms. "You could have traumatized Dewey," I said disappointed.
"We got scared too," offended, Francis tried to defend himself, attempting to get up from the couch, which I prevented by pg my hand on his head, making him lose his bance again and fall bato his seat.
"But you're older," scolded, "especially you, Francis. It was your decisiht?" I said to the older kid, making him lose his anger for a few seds. The older boy seemed a bit remorseful for his as.
"You two as well, you're family; at least take care of each other," disappointed, I said to the other two kids, achieving a more obvious repentan their faces. "Think about what you did," really not knowing what else to say to reprimand the kids as I walked with Dewey, still scared, in my arms.
It only took a few minutes before Dewey, obviously exhausted fr so much, fell deeply asleep in my arms. In the room where I had entered his brothers several minutes ago, I chose the bed with more stuffed animals to y the little boy down and cover him with his bs.
The other three kids were surprisingly still sitting in their pces on the sofa. For possible arsonists, I didn't believe my 'speech' was deep enough to make them reflect. They wanted something.
"Do you have something to say?" I asked the kids, who quickly lowered their heads at the same time.
After elbowing each other, Mal stood up. "We're sorry, PJ," he quickly said. "Yeah, we're sorry. we tig the movie now?" Reese quickly seemed uo trol his words before receiving a pun the side.
"No," annoyed, mainly because they locked me out of the house, I said, "by the way, I'll fiscate this and give it to your parents," as I took the movie out of the pyer.
"You 't do that," annoyed, Francis stood up from his seat.
"Well, I just did," sarcastically showing them the tape. "You watch cartoons while I make dinner," I tinued, ign the protests the kids immediately unleashed.
Leaving the movie within my reach, I took enough from the family's refrigerator to make sandwiches for the kids for dinner. "Is there anything you don't want on your sandwiches?" I asked the still annoyed kids in the living room.
"Pickles," Mal was the only oo respond.
"Go wash your hands," after finishing preparing sandwiches for everyone, I ordered the kids still on the couch who had their heads clether than I would have liked, seeming to talk, pn.
"Yes," again, in a suspicious syny, the three said at the same time befetting up from the sofa and quickly going to the bathroom.
Their 'little' distra starting a fire in their backyard had me pletely alert to the kids' behavior. Their mother's attitude was entirely justified.
While putting away all the things I had used for the sandwiches, Reese and Mal returned. "Where's Francis?" I asked, looking seriously at the kids before quickly cheg the backyard window. I had filled the trash s with a little water to prevent another fire, but I didn't know these kids' limits.
Before I could ask where their brother was, a scream followed by g was heard from the kids' room. Taking the movie tape with me, I quickly trotted to see what was happening.
"Dewey, are you okay?" I asked the little boy who was obviously awake, g and hugging one of the stuffed animals on his bed. "It was the , he was here," the scared child excimed.
"Oh buddy, it's just a movie, it's not real," I reassured the child, taking him in my arms again to leave the room. I didn't want to leave the older kids alone for too long.
Somehow, Francis had made it to the dining table without me notig. He, along with his two brothers, sat in front of their sandwiches, apparently untouched, waiting with strange smiles.
"Oh, Dewey had a nightmare," with what seemed like fake regret, Francis said, "sorry, Dewey," he tinued, apologizing. "Yeah, we're sorry. We really are," Mal and Reese followed suit, apologizing as well.
"It's okay, buddy. Why don't you eat my sandwich while I make another one?" I lowered the little boy into the chair in front of my sandwich, handing him the pte along with the sandwich.
"No," quickly, Reese said, "what he means is that Dewey prefers cereal for dinner," interrupting my suspial quickly intervened. Again, and unsurprisingly, the whole situation was obviously suspicious.
"Is that true, Dewey? Do you want cereal?" shaking the hair of the small, big-eared child, I asked, receiving a small nod along with a shoulder shrug, which I interpreted as a yes.
"Okay," moving again to the kit drawers, I took out one of the family's cereal bowls and one of the suspiciously heavy boxes of sugary cereal. Opening the box to check its tents, I found a bunch of "worms?" I asked the kids, still alive and crawling with a lot of dirt ihe cardboard box. "Is this supposed to scare me?" I asked the kids, taking one of the worms from the box. In my life, I had touched much grosser things than a simple worm.
The three older kids seemed disappointed, probably because of my ck of rea. "Where did you get so many live worms?" I asked, genuinely surprised, putting the worm I had in my hand bato the box.
"At the bait store," as if it were obvious, Reese replied.
How long ago did they go to the bait store? And where did they keep the worms?
Leaving the box securely closed o isnd, I took another cereal box, fortunately with the tent it should have.
"Why haven't you had dinner?" suspiciously, after serving Dewey his cereal, I asked. I sat down in front of my sandwich, receiving strange and fixed stares from the other kids. "We were waiting for you," falsely friendly, Francis said. "Yes, we were waiting for you to start," suspiciously, Reese added, seeming eager for me to bite into my sandwich.
They had done something to my sandwich. Quickly, before the eager child could prevent it, I sed his sandwich with mine. "I mixed up the sandwiches, Reese. I'm gd you did mine," amused by the deyed rea of the child, I quickly bit into my now new sandwich. "What's wrong, Reese? Aren't you going to eat dinner?" I asked, making the child audibly swallow.
Only Dewey and I were eating our dinners while the other three kids were pletely focused on the sandwi front of Reese. "e on, bite," I kindly and emphatically offered/ordered the child, who slowly lifted the sandwich from the pte and in a quick motion cheart of it.
Everyo the table, except Dewey, arently didn't uand the situation, was watg Reese, waiting for aion. Slowly chewing, Reese raised his thumb, nodding a moment ter and immediately ran to the sink to spit, gargling with tap water again and again.
Taking the sandwich that the child had bitten a moment ago, I checked its tents, finding a strange white paste spread on the bread, "What is this?" I asked, bringing the sandwiy o smell it. Immediately pulling it away, it smelled horribly.
"trated garlic," again disappointed, Mal said in a whisper.
"Well, good luck getting close to anyone," amused, I said to the child who was still gargling with water.
After we threw the remaining garlidwi the trash, Reese served himself a bowl of cereal for dinner, still with a disgusted look on his face, probably uo get rid of the garlic taste in his mouth.
After finishing dinner while washing the used dishes, the kids were watg TV on a el I had previously chosen—the VHS tape of the movie was in my line of sight while making sure the kids didn't try to take it. "PJ," behind me, Mal, who had goo the bathroom a while ago, had red welts on his face as he coughed into his hand.
"I think I'm having an allergic rea to pickles," the child said as he scratched his throat.
Quickly approag the child, I checked for any other symptoms that would show an allergic rea. He definitely had small red rash outbreaks on his skin, but apart from that, in the short time it took me to check his face, I couldn't see signs of nasal gestion, no red or watery eyes, and ohing, I couldn't hear wheezing. In addition to that, the child didn't seem to have stomach pain.
Suspicious, I guided the child to the sink, taking a damp cloth and passing it over one of the visible 'rashes' on the child. Surprisingly, the small spot disappeared. "Look at that, it seems it wasn't an allergic rea, just a makeup mishap," pushing the child's head away slightly, I distanced him. I wanted him to call his mother, or was it just a distra.
Quickly cheg the couch behind the kit, I could only see two of the three heads that should be there. It was a distra.
Moving Mal out of my way in long and quick strides, I reached where I had left the VHS tape, whiow, not surprisingly, had disappeared.
Turning back with the child, I found him proudly.
"How many TVs are there in the house?" I asked calmly, surprising him by not receiving the rea I expected.
"One," he said after a moment of refle with drooping shoulders.
"Yes, as long as I make sure you don't put the movie in, having the tape is not really a problem," shaking the child's head, I tinued washing the dirty dishes.
After that, the night passed peacefully. Apparently, with no more ideas for pranks, the kids had given up.
The first to fall asleep was Dewey, who was already tired. Once again, I took him to his room, hoping the '' wouldn't appear again, at least not while I'm here.
Sihe kids had behaved at least during the st hour, I also, a bit tired of cartoons, decided to put on something else, finding a silly edy movie that seemed to ihe kids.
After finishing the movie, Mal was the o fall asleep, who fortunately decided on his own to walk to his room. "You o brush your teeth before bedtime," I remihe child after he said goodbye.
After a loud yawn, Reese relutly stood up as well. "I thought staying up te could be fun, but now I'm just tired," annoyed, he said, walking to his room without saying goodbye.
"You above all o brush your teeth buddy" I mao tell the boy before he disappeared at the door of his room.
The only o was Francis, whom I hadn't heard from since dinner. "So, do you have anything else pnned?" I asked the child, smiling ironically. "There's still almost twenty minutes until your parents arrive," surprised, I said after cheg my watch; time had passed quickly.
With his head down and thoughtful, Francis checked the hallway of the house before asking in a whisper, "Is it really my job to protect my brothers?"
"Well, it's really your parents' job. You should just focus on enjoying your childhood and studying," I replied holy, surprised by his question. He had been thinking about what I told him. "But," I added abruptly, "as the older ones, you and I were born with another burden. Reese, Mal, aually Dewey see you as a role model. You have more experien the world, and therefore, they will look to you first to solve the problems they enter. They might not say it out loud, but that's how it will be," I tinued calmly, once again making the child reflect.
In silence, we tinued watg TV until their parents arrived.
Slowly, the front door of the house opened, revealing Mr. and Mrs. Wilkersoering cautiously. They seemed to be looking for a disaster, probably pleasantly surprised not to find anything broken or burnt.
"Good evening," I greeted the couple, getting up from the sofa. "PJ, did you lose our number?" Mr. Wilkerson asked, worried, putting his hand on my shoulder as he seemed to search for visible injuries.
"No, I didn't o call, sir. It was a quiet night," hiding my pride that the kids had locked me out of the house.
"Don't lie," seriously and calmly, Mrs. Wilkerson said, approag slowly.
---
Author Thoughts:
As always, I'm not Ameri and Not a Doctor.
This chapter o be uploaded in the middle of st week. Due to personal reasons, I was uo do so, and therefore, I postpo until today.
So, for the first time, I made a ge in perspective. It was short and not very substantial, but I hope you uand that it was just an experiment. If I pn to occasionally ge perspectives ter iory, I might have to try other approaches in how to do it, but until then, you'll have to endure, along with me, my attempts, hopefully not failed.
With this, I hope that the immersion of the reading was not affected by the line breaks in the middle of the chapter.
Having said that,
I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, let me know, and I will correct them immediately.
Thanks for reading! :D
PS: PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW.
