um well what the heck am I supposed to do with this?
"You can't back out of this now, honey. You promised to babysit the child," My parents call from their sixth year in jail for serial killing.
"But mom, she's a witch! How am I supposed to babysit ashes?" I argue.
"Exactly. She's a witch. They're not ashes, Amberly, they're a baby. A dead baby. But she still needs to be taken care of, okay? Now, some things about ashed children. They really don't need to be fed or any of that, you just need to make sure they don't destroy themselves. Keep them away from fans and scissors. I know you're used to babysitting live children, but give this a try. Poor Mrs. Lasalle works overtime, and we already told her that you'd babysit her baby Violet in repaying for us killing her. Have fun, and call us if you need anything!" The phone beeps.
I sigh. I look over to the baby lying in the crib next to me, squealing to be fed. I get up to feed him, but then I remembered that Mrs. Lasalle cremated him yesterday.
Violet is still a baby - just made of ashes. Mrs. Lasalle, the unfortunate witch in my neighborhood, trusted only me with her secret identity (because my parents killed her child.) Plus, I'm a teen who babysits kids, so who else would you call to babysit a pile of moving ashes?
I turn off the fans and turn on the AC instead, making sure all the things baby Violet could hear herself apart with are in other rooms. I pick up the spare wand Mrs. Lasalle gave me, telling me that if I needed to move the baby, this was the thing to do it with. I put it down and text my friends.
Alya: Are you babysitting?
Me: Yeah. I wish I could come to the party, though.
Trisha: You're missing out, girl! Do we have to come and drag you over? Take the kid with you, the community center's got a daycare.
M: NO! I mean, I can't - my customer asked me to keep an eye on her at all times. She's a baby.
A: Really! How cute! Maybe, after the party's over, we could come over?
M: Can't, I'll be done by them.
T: Great timing, Amberly.
M: Okayyy…got to go, the baby's crying. See you tomorrow!
I sigh and look at Violet, her disturbing ashen face looking at me. It's hard to imagine that Violet will soon be my size - not going to school, of course, in fact she'll have no outside contact at all - but still, a teen like me made out of ashes.
I put my head in my hands. Why, oh why, was it me?