By Mike Carey
Billy wasn’t happy.
His parents were going out for the night, and in spite of his protests, they had called Lisa to come babysit. Billy hated Lisa. She always hogged the TV and the computer, she was mean, and she smelled weird. Worst of all, she made it sound like she was doing him favors and always wanted him to thank her. The doorbell rang and Billy shuddered. He knew that she had arrived and his best bet was to just stay in his room, but he knew what was coming next.
“Billy!” his mother called up the stairs, “come down here a minute.”
He knew the routine by heart. Dropping his phone on the bed, he sulked down the stairs. As usual, Lisa had managed to block most of the bottom stair with that huge creepy old bag of hers. She said she kept schoolwork in it, but Billy had never seen her open it. He tried not to look at her, but she could tell she was staring at him with her fake smile stretching across her pimply face, and her greasy red hair falling onto her bony shoulders. Continue reading