Categories > Original > Horror0 Reviews
What turns into a normal, but annoying, baby-sitting gig, three friends find themselves in the throughs of a nightmare.
“It’s not my fault,” said Mickey as she swung around in the island chair.
“We just put Hannah to sleep and watch horror films for three days,” said Brittany.
“No little kid can sleep for three days,” said Amanda.
Mickey, Brittany and Amanda all milled about in the top floor living room kitchen in Mickey’s late grandfather’s house. He lived in Utah and the girls, who were in Vegas, were called to baby-sit Mickey’s four year old aunt, Hannah, while her mom and girlfriend went out to Vegas to party. Mickey’s step-grandmother was as old as Mickey’s mom and didn’t really care about her child.
Who could blame her. Mickey had become sick after the call. Hannah was a brat in every which way. Brittany and Amanda just rolled their eyes and didn’t believe here. The girls thought they could take some marvelous pictures and Mickey would get to ride her Polaris Quad once again.
Brittany felt a tug on her denim cut offs, she turned around and saw a little blond girl standing there holding a teddy bear. Brittany smiled and picked up the girl. “Hello, Hannah, I’m Bri-OW!”
Hannah began to pull on Brittany’s hair. Mickey managed to unhinge Hannah’s sticky paws away from Brittany’s hair. Two large chunks of Brittany’s blond and brown hair stuck out like wires from Hannah’s hands. Amanda who sat on the sofa laughed. “You can’t even handle a little tug of the hair?”
Brittany handed Hannah to Amanda. Hannah thumped Amanda on the head with her teddy bear. “Ow!”
“You can’t take a wittle thump in the head?” cooed Brittany.
“That bear has a voice box,” groaned Amanda.
“And that child has the grip of King Kong,” sighed Brittany.
“I wanna play,” pouted Hannah as she climbed off of Amanda’s lap.
“Well, it’s almost seven,” hummed Brittany. “Let’s eat first.”
“Can we have Fruity Pebbles?” asked Hannah.
“No,” said Brittany. “Well have spaghetti.”
“But I don’t like spaghetti,” said Hannah crossing her chubby arms.
“Yes you do, Hannah,” said Mickey. “I’ve seen you eat it.”
“I’ll cook it,” smiled Brittany as she grabbed an apron.
“I want Fruity Pebbles!” screamed Hannah, stomping her feet.
“That’s a breakfast food,” smiled Brittany getting on Hannah’s level.
“Who says you can’t have cereal for dinner?” said Amanda.
“Don’t encourage the brat,” sneered Mickey.
“We’re going to have spaghetti,” said Brittany. “Tomorrow for breakfast you may have some Fruity Pebbles.”
Hannah kicked Brittany in the knee, making the tall woman fall to the wooden floor. Hannah grabbed Brittany by the hair and screamed, “I HATE YOU!”
Mickey picked up the screaming girl and carried her like a wet dog. “I hate you too.”
Hannha threw out her bottom lip. She wasn’t getting her way. In this house, it was Hannah’s way or the highway. Mickey walked down the hall and placed the screaming toddler in her room and shut the white oak door.