One night Spencer went to babysit for her neighbor?s young children. The sixteen-year old arrived at her usual time of 6:30 pm, and the parents left out into the rain. She greeted the two young girls as they were coloring pictures of Hannah Montana on the kitchen table as they were watching the show.
?That?s my crayon!? Bridget screamed to her younger sister, Shawn.
?No, it?s mine!? She rebutted, as the two began to tug the crayon like a rope.
?Girls, it?s alright, there is another pink crayon here.? Spencer said
She waited for them to calm down, and then she began cooking macaroni and cheese for the girls. While she was waiting for the timer to beep, she sat at the table with the girls and decided to text her boyfriend. Suddenly, the lights flickered furiously due to the storm. All of a sudden, they shut off. The girls shrieked in terror and tears began to fall down their cheeks. While she was searching for a match to light, she reassured them that everything was okay. She lit the match, and thought she saw an image in the reflection of the light resembling a man. The match blew out; pulling her back into darkness, and her heartbeat began to race while she tried to contain her screams. She frantically attempted to light another match in the pack, but because of her quivering hands, she dropped the box. As she bent down to pick it up, she felt a cool sensation brush up against her cheek. The chills started to run down her spine. The lights suddenly reappeared, and the man she thought she saw was not there. "It was just my imagination," she said to herself. She was beginning to calm down when she noticed the girls were missing. "Shawn? Bridget?" she called out for them. But she received no answer. "Shawn?" she called again. She listened closely; there was no sound. She began barging into every room, searching for the girls. She slowly crept into the bathroom, and the two girls jumped out.
?BOO! Haha, we scared you!? Bridget exclaimed.
?That was so not funny, girls. Now get back to the table!? Spencer said as her heart beat slowly began to reach its normal pattern.
The timer finally beeped, so the teen went to drain out the pasta and serve the girls their dinner. The lights began flickering again.
?Not again.? She sighed as she got out the bowls. All of a sudden they turned off again. She could not find the matches she had before, so she browsed through the nearest drawer and found a flashlight. ?Girls are you okay?? She flashed the light back over to the table and they were missing again. ?Guys, this is not funny. You better get your butts back here or you will be in trouble!? But there was no answer.
?Girls?? There was a sound coming from upstairs. ?I know you are up there.? She said as she ascended the stairs. ?Come out come out wherever you are.?
She pushed open all the rooms and they were not anywhere to be found. She began to get nervous. She had a really bad feeling about this. She decided to call the girls? parents, to ask of any other hiding places. It was busy. She dialed again, and there still was no answer. She heard a loud alert coming from the television. ?Alert, Alert. Everyone in the Harwood area needs to make sure all windows and doors are secure. There is a serial killer on the loose. Alert, Alert.? She fumbled to dial the parents again, when she felt air tickling the back of her neck. Panic rose from within her, and instantly she knew she had to run. She reached the bathroom again, hoping that the girls were alright. They were not in there. She locked the door behind her, and patted the wall to find the light switch. The terrified girl stood there motionless as she read what was written on the mirror in blood: "You're next." She could see the killer's weapon breaking through the door as she screamed and cried with all of the energy she had left, knowing that it would be her last.