Three years earlier
There was an old man, sitting by the sidewalk.
He was tired.
A girl sat next to him. “This is my spatula,” she said. The girl picked up the old man’s walking stick. She began to flip it as if it were over a stove.
“Oh?” The old man exclaimed. Is that so?”
“Yes!” She said. “ I'm making tasty treats. For the both of us!”
The old man stiffened. He had heard of this girl before, yet he still took the babysitting job. He didn't believe any of the stories, but a small bit of paranoia still crept into his mind. “What are you making?” He said.
“I am making meat.” She said.
“Well, that's fine,” he said wistfully. “ I haven't had some good chicken for a while.”
She smiled. “Try some!” The girl acted like she was handing him an imaginary plate. She put his stick down.
The old man obediently pretended to eat a hamburger. Well this is just a little girl playing make pretend, he thought. There is nothing to worry about.
“Ew,” the girl suddenly said.
“What is it?”
“You just ate a bone.” She smiled and laughed it off. “It's fine, though. There are a lot bones in it.”
The man stared at her dumbly. “What, exactly, am I eating?” He asked.
“Your hand,” the girl stated. She picked up thin air herself, like a plate.
But instead of pretending, she took her own hand to her mouth and started chewing on it. She bit, and she bit, and the old man did nothing to stop her. Blood welled in her mouth, and the old man stumbled away.
He felt a sting on his elderly hand. It was just the little girl, playing make pretend. Her fingernails dug into his skin, and he could see welts in her hand here she bit. He wrenched his arm away and ran for his the girl’s house where he was supposed to be babysitting her.
The girl followed him.
“What are you?” The man yelled.
“I don’t know. What are you?” She smiled.
The man picked up the phone. He dialed his employer’s number and waited for the phone to be picked up.
“Who is this?” Mrs. Teahim answered.
“Your daughter is insane. I swear, she has to go the mental institution.” The man replied. He turned around. The girl wasn’t there, and he sighed in relief.
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Teahim said.
“She has to go. I’m calling them right now.”
“No! Jill wouldn’t hurt a fl-!”
The man hung up before she could finish. He quickly found a phone book and searched through the numbers.
“What are you doing, sir?” Jill asked, tapping his shoulder with her bloody hand.
“I’m calling some very nice people, so they can take you to a really fun place.”
“You’re lying, sir,” Jill answered.
The old man paused and looked over at her. That last things he saw was Jill’s pretty blue eyes and a kitchen knife in her hand.
They found his body with that same knife in his ear and a phone still ringing in his hand.