The doorbell rang. A little boy answered, accompanied by a young woman wearing all white, who appeared to be in her mid 20's. "Hello, are you Charlie?" The babysitter, Jane, asked. He ran away immediately, intimidated by the new person. The woman let Jane in, and closed the door carefully behind her. Jane was showed around, and after the tour, the mother left. Charlie, the little boy, sat on the sofa, almost motionless.
"What would you like to do?" Jane asked. "I'm hungry." He replied. Jane got up to fix him a plate of fruit, and as she went to the kitchen she stepped on baby clothes. 'That's odd,' she thought. There was no other child around. The clothes would not fit the little boy she was watching over. The walls of the house were white, almost too white. Everything seemed to be baby proofed, foam corners on the tables, no wires although there was lighting. Jane opened the refrigerator, to find nothing on the spotless shelves. She searched for a plate to place another meal for the boy. Every cabinet she opened was empty. Panicking, she hurriedly walked to the living room of the house to ask the boy where everything was. "Do you know where the plates are?" "I'm hungry." He responded. "Well I can't fix you anything if I don't know where the food is." Jane smiled. 'Silly boy,' she shook her head. She stepped back into the kitchen, thinking to herself. 'The boy looks oddly familiar.' Jane searched for more food. "There's got to be something in this house for the boy to eat." Jane went back to the boy on the couch, still motionless, and asked once more where the food was. She got the same response. Jane grew frustrated with the boy. He would not reveal where anything was, he would just respond in the same monotone voice, "I'm hungry." She opened every cabinet, every drawer in this one floor house. Every room she searched had an odd similar look. She realized, there were no beds, or bathrooms in the house. Just empty floors with dressers and cabinets hanging from walls. It seemed as every room was a kitchen or closet. She tousled her hair, almost ripping it out of fury. She ran around the house, trying to think of an option. Suddenly, she stomped into the living room with the small sofa and asked again, "Where is anything in this house?!" "I'm hungry." The boy calmly replied, as though she wasn't fuming with rage and as if the house was normally set. Jane had enough. She ran to the boy, and grabbed him by the feet of his pajamas. She slung him around, satisfying the need to break something. She threw him into the ground, and as she heavily breathed with stress, she looked around. Her stance towers over the motionless body of the boy who drove her mad. Drawers were hanging out of dressers, cabinet doors were wide open, and the single sofa was turned over. Jane looked at the boy, and assumed the worst. She fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. "She's overstimulated. Let’s remove the box." A voice calmly said. Jane opened her eyes to the flicker of fluorescent lights. Two doctors were over her, covered in white clothing. They carried a cardboard box that had been shredded beyond recognition. Beside Jane, lay a baby doll. She sat up, observing her surroundings. Picking up the doll, she pulled a string connected to its back. The doll whispered, "I'm hungry." -- DeLarge
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Harriet Benjamin walks into her new home. The walls are painted a soft blue, the floors a calm colored wood, and paintings were already hung up.
“Are you all set? The paperwork will be mailed soon.” The realtor turned to Harriet, and stared at her distressed face. This was the first time Harriet had to live alone. She was a woman in her thirties, a kindergarten teacher, and all her life, she stayed with her parents or various boyfriends. This time, she knew that she had to get over her fear. “Yes, thank you Donna. You can leave now, I can take it from here.” Harriet replied, still anxious. She picked at her nails and her eyes darted about, as if she was looking for someone to be there. The realtor left, and there Harriet sat, in the middle of an unfurnished living room, alone. Wanting to do something to get her mind off her loneliness, she unpacked a few of her boxes. Soon desks were filled with papers and cabinets were stocked with food. She made her bedroom and unpacked clothes. Her house started to take shape, and soon she was out of boxes to unpack. But in the very last one, she found an ad, clipped out of a morning paper. On the bottom it was signed, Just in case. - Mom The ad was for a speaker system. It could play music from records or tapes, but it also had a mode where a voice would talk to you. It could perform tasks such as searching the internet or pulling up the weather or time. Harriet called the number on the ad and talked to a customer service representative. She placed an order for the system and it should arrive in a few days. Impatiently waiting, she went back to her parents’ house to pick up more of her things. When Harriet walked in the door, her mother started to bombard her with questions. “Oh hello there, Harriet. How well are you adjusting to the new house?” “Hey, mom. Everything’s fine.” Harriet lied. “Did you unpack your boxes?” “Yes. I just came back to get more things. I found the newspaper clipping, mom. I ordered a system for my house.” Harriet had a solemn tone to her words. “Oh good, Harriet. It will help you adjust. I hear those things are very smart and human-like. You’ll be fine, and remember, I’m only a few streets away.” Harriet trudged upstairs to collect more boxes and load them into her car. This will take your mind off it, she thought to herself. After leaving her parents’ house, she drove back to her new home to unpack more boxes. The house soon became less empty as time went on. After a few days, a new box waited on her front porch. Harriet called her mother over to set up the speaker system, and the house started talking to them. Each room was filled with a human voice, that was soothing to Harriet’s ears. Her mom left, and she spent the day talking with this masculine voice that made vibrations in the walls. At the end of the day, the voice almost whispered through the speakers, “Good night, Harriet Benjamin. Sleep well, and I will hear from you tomorrow.” His voice was friendly, and he was created to be interested in whatever she says. Harriet woke up to the tender voice asking her about her plans for the day and fell asleep to the voice saying, “Good night, Harriet Benjamin. Sleep well, and I will hear from you tomorrow.” Although his voice mimicked that of a person, there was a certain way he talked that you could tell he was something other than human. Harriet got used to her house soon enough, with the voice’s help. She didn’t feel alone, almost like the voice had a presence in the house. The voice made the house full and alive, and Harriet appreciated its company. Every night, she heard his voice, “Good night, Harriet Benjamin. Sleep well, and I will hear from you tomorrow” as she slipped into her dreams. On one particularly cold evening in November, Harriet got home from working late to find her house completely dark. She called out a greeting to the voice, but the response wasn’t as loud as it was before. “Got to change your battery soon, huh?” Harriet exclaimed in a relaxed tone. This system really worked to keep her calm when she was alone. “Come into the kitchen, you will be able to hear me better.” The voice responded. Harriet walked into the kitchen, where all the lights were off, except the lamp on the breakfast table. She slowly approached the table, wondering why the lamp light was on. At the table was a note, Can you hear me now? Harriet stumbled back. She tripped over the power cord for the lamp and dragged it to the floor. The bulb shattered and created sparks and a loud cracking sound. She screamed because in the light of the sparks, stood a man. He stalked up to her, and with the stream of the moonlight flowing through the window, she saw the shimmer of the kitchen knife. Harriet screamed again, and he came closer. “Hello, Harriet.” The voice was as smooth as the one from the speakers. It was oddly familiar. “Who are you? Why are you in my house?” Harriet exclaimed furiously, holding back a scream in her hands. “You’ve heard me in your speakers. I’ve always been in your house.” At that moment Harriet realised who he was. She gasped, and he cracked a smile. As the knife was brought down on her heart, he said, “Good night, Harriet Benjamin. Sleep well, and I will hear from you tomorrow” in the same comfortable voice she fell asleep to every day --DeLarge |
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