Ring...

Ring...

Ring...

          "Margie, hi! Just wanted to make sure we were still on for gal's night tonight. Great! You're what? Oh! Trying out a new babysitter huh? How old is Bebe now? Four? Oh, Five. Well we shouldn't be gone too long, good time to try out a new sitter. Hey! That reminds me of a story I read on on a' those creepy story sites. Ya' wanna hear it?... 

          ... My babysitter always acted like a big kid. I was seven years old, she was sixteen. She did not bare the usual hallmarks of a teenager that I had come to recognize from the high school kids that flooded out of the building a block away from my kindergarten every day. 

          She had no piercings, no uncomfortable looking shoes, no makeup. She never checked her phone, in fact I don't even know if she had one. Probably not. She didn't carry a purse, instead having a sparkly little purple backpack that she kept my toys and snacks in when we went out to play in the woods behind my house.

          She dressed like a kid, too, In lots of layers with bold, bright colors, often adorned with butterflies or hearts or stars. She wore a lot of pastel Bermuda shorts, that I remember, and baggy multi-colored jackets. She wore a lot of those rubber bracelets that are in different shapes when you take them off. To top off the look, she would always put her blond hair up in two pigtails, held up by pink scrunchies.

          When I was alone with her she would often suggest we do things like bake cookies or watch old Disney movies. Peter Pan was her favorite. I had limits on how much sugar I was supposed to have and how much T.V. I was allowed to watch, but she never minded them.

          I remember one time we were eating lunch together. We each had a PB and J, she cut her own crusts off, but I told her that I didn't care, so she left mine on. She was blowing bubbles in her glass of milk, when I asked her a question that had been on my mind for a while.

         "Emily," I asked, that was her name, "Do you have a boyfriend?" My cousin was around the same age as Emily, and she had one. Emily grimaced in response.

          "Ew! No!" She stuck out her tongue. I considered for a second.

          "Do you have a girlfriend?" I asked.

          "No! All that romancey-pants stuff is gross!" She stuck out her tongue even harder before going back to her milk.

          "Where do you go to school, Emily?" I asked. I must have been in a curious mood that day. She pondered the question for a minute before answering.

          "Same place as you." She answered, and I laughed.

          "Emily! You're too old to go to my school!" I smiled at her and she smiled back. I don't remember what we talked about or did after that. We probably ordered pizza. I always asked her to get pepperoni, but she always got plain cheese.

          "Toppings ruin it." She would always say. I would pout, but she was in charge.

          One day we went out exploring in the woods. We did that a lot together. I did it with my parents too, but it was always more fun with Emily. Unlike my parents, she never made me keep walking when I saw a cool bug or a funny looking patch of mushrooms. Not only would she stop and look at it with me, but she would often encourage me to poke and prod whatever we found, something my parents strictly forbid me to do.

          "Dare you." Emily said, pointing at the biggest mushroom I had ever seen. I looked at it. I had never seen one that looked like it before. 

         "My parents say it's dangerous to touch mushrooms." I said. She frowned in disappointment.

         "Chicken." She said stubbornly, "How can a stupid mushroom hurt you?"

        "My dad says it can poison me." I said meekly.

        "That's dumb." She said defiantly. "You're no fun. I don't babysit you for money, you know. I babysit you because I thought you would be a fun friend for me."

        "You're mean." I said and crossed my little arms. She suddenly looked alarmed.

        "Hey! I'm not mean!" She said. I turned away from her, still mad at being called chicken.

          "Say I'm not mean! Say it!" She cried. I continued to shun her.

          "What if I find something else for us to do? Something really cool, that only the bravest most daring explorers do!" She caught my interest. I uncrossed my arms and nodded slowly. Proving yourself to a teenager was the absolute dream to a seven year old.

         "Come on! We're not even far from it!" She said happily and started running down the path. I followed her, chasing after the sight of her bouncing pigtails and sparkly purple backpack. exited to see what we were going to do.

          She finally stopped running, and when I caught up to her I stopped abruptly at the sight of a huge gorge in the ground. It looked like it might have been a dried up river, or a crack made by an earthquake. My eyes went wide. I had never been near something like this before. It was three times as wide and four times as deep as I was tall, at least. the bottom was dark but I could just make out a bed of rocks at the bottom.

         "Whoah." I said, my small mind spellbound, "That's amazing!"

         "Yeah." Said Emily deviously, "And we're gonna jump it!" I looked at her incredulously. Surely she was joking. But she didn't look like she was.

         "No way!" I yelled, "We could never make it!"

         "Yeah we can." She affirmed, "I'll show you!" She took a few steps back, I cried out for her to stop but she bolted towards the ravine and pushed off, gliding through the air, seemingly in slow motion. I watched in agonizing tension as her foot just made it to the edge and she stumbled forward to the other side.

         "See!" She huffed, "It's easy!" 

         "Easy for you!" I yelled, "Your legs are like, as tall as my whole body!" 

         "Don't be a chicken!" She shouted angrily, "Just jump! It's easy!" 

         "No!" I shouted and started walking away, along the edge of the ravine.

         "Fine!" She yelled after me, "I'll be here when you finally decide to stop being such a BIG FAT CHICKEN!" I kept walking. There was no way I was jumping. I kept walking aimlessly, just wanting to get away from Emily, until I saw something sticking out of the dirt.

         It was a little laminated plaque, partially obscured by some dried mud. I could make out the letters, and, being an advanced reader for my age, read them.

                                      IN MEMORY OF EMILY MOORE

                                                  AGE 6, 2003-2009

                                        SHE DIED TRYING TO JUMP

                                              OVER THIS RAVINE

        My fingers shook as I brushed away the mud that covered the bottom, revealing a little girl, close to my age. She had blond hair put up into pigtails with pink scrunchies, a huge smile, a bright red butterfly shirt, and was gripping two purple backpack straps.

         All he blood drained from my face as I looked into the young, smiling face of what I could not deny was Emily. My throat went dry and I almost fell over. This was way too much for my seven year old mind to handle. Then I heard Emily's voice calling me.

        "Hey! Please come back! It's time to go home! I'm sorry I called you chicken! Please?" I walked shakily back to Emily, never taking my eyes off the ground. I didn't want to look her in the eye, I couldn't take it.

          "Hey, is something wrong?" She asked, squatting down to my eye level. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head vigorously.

        "Geez. If I knew it would freak you out that badly I wouldn't of brought you here." She said with a shrug. She took my hand and walked me home. I didn't look up the entire time, and once we got home I run up to my room and shut the door. I wouldn't open the door until I heard my mother's voice outside of it. 

          I told her that I didn't want Emily to be my babysitter anymore. I didn't explain why, I just insisted until she complied. I didn't see Emily again after that. After a while the memory warped and faded in my mind, until I half forgot, half buried the memory all together.

        I was sixteen, and desperately wanted to have my own car within the next year. I started taking up jobs around the neighborhood, odd jobs for whoever would offer me one. 

        One day a neighbor said they had gotten me a babysitting job from a friend of a friend. I accepted. the day of the gig came, and my doorbell rang. I opened the door and almost passed out at the sight before me.

          There, on my porch was a little girl, a girl in a bright yellow star shirt. She had on pastel Bermuda shorts, a baggy jacket, and a sparkly purple backpack. Her blond hair was done up in two pigtails, with pink scrunchies.

        "Hi!" She said, extending a hand, "I'm Emily!"... 

                                                           The End

          ... What's that Margie? ... No, I just told it in first person 'cause it's not as scary in third ... You're what? ... No! You can't cancel gal's night! ... The New Babysitter? ... I'm sure they'll be fi- Margie? Margie? Ugh. I need to make braver friends. Either that or learn to keep my big mouth shut."