The Guest Room

Welcome to Scary Story Podcast. Today's stories deal with creepy children. Let's see if you can spot them in the stories based on a suggestion about a story of a cursed child. You'll also hear the babysitter in the second part. My name is Edwin and here's a scary story. It was in the summer of two thousand and one when my family got the news that my uncle was in the hospital. We were all worried about him because all of our cousins and the rest of my family had great memories with him. In reality, I think we all felt bad though, because of his wife, well, the woman he started living with after my actual aunt died. She was not someone that we liked to be around. Have you ever met one of those people with a sour face, like the kashier at the grocery store that hates his or the woman that sells the tickets at the movie theater that just wants you to hurry up and decide what you want to watch so she can speak to the next customer. Well she was like that, but worse. She had convinced my uncle to move out into not quite a rural area, but very close to it. My uncle loved hanging out with us, fishing and going to the arcade almost every weekend, but his new wife was not going to have it. Eventually, she got her way after making them sell their house and move to a worn down place at the edge of town. But first we thought that we'd be able to get farm animals and go camping at his new place. Says The whole thing looked like a ranch, but we could all tell that this woman was really draining my uncle every ounce of energy he had. When most of us got to high school, my uncle was just another one of those people that we visit only during Christmas, and that we would be kind of forced to call him on his birthday, both him and that woman. By this time, we're a lot older, We had all grown up, and some of the cousins even had their own families. When my uncle ended up in the hospital, we figured it would be responsible of us to help out his wife around the house, even though nobody wanted to step foot in there. A few times we visited, it was an elephant in the room situation, talking about how messy it was. Boxes of new dishes for the kitchen had grown this sticky, yellow brown substance on them, unopened and stacked around the kitchen holes likely made from the rats that would crawl inside, but also let in large cockroaches and crickets, and they bounced around the house when we try to make our way to the dusty living room area. My cousin Ari, the one with the kindest heart out of all of us, was the one that would go out of her way to visit my uncle. More often. She would spend the night, sometimes staying in her truck that she converted into a type of fang life rig that looked very cool. It was her actually the one that convinced my uncle's wife to hire a cleaning lady, and she did an amazing job, even for the short time she was there. The kitchen was a first place she tackled, followed by the bathrooms and even the exterior windows. Her name was Miranda, if I remember correctly, and she had been recommended by another one of my cousins. We all felt a little bad for her, knowing that she would end up with such a terrible job, but in the end, work was work, and Miranda accepted. There was one incident with Miranda that shook the whole family, though she had asked for a ride in the middle of the night one time, afraid of something she had seen in one of the rooms. Miranda didn't want to talk about it, especially in front of my uncle's wife, but kept saying that the place was not safe for people to visit, at least not at night. And everyone, and I mean everyone in my family believed Miranda that was a little bit skeptical over the whole thing, and even when I mentioned it to my cousins, they would tell me that my uncle's wife was involved with the occult, that they even suspected that she used it to manipulate my uncle into doing what she pleased. I tried to act surprised, but still my skepticism remained. What could she have possibly seen at the house? I had gotten her to quit just a week after that. Nobody knew what to say, except for maybe finding another person to come clean the house, But even making the listing felt weird after knowing what Miranda had told everybody already. And it was like that for several months until well my uncle got sick and we all simply forgot about it. Those days were intense. My uncle's wife was even more unbearable making demands about things that only concerned the rest of our family, like telling us who could and couldn't visit my uncle at the hospital, then her long list of reasons why, and then what she would do if she found out that we didn't listen to her. Nobody believed her. In fact, she even stopped going back to my uncle's house and opted instead for staying at her older sister's place, which I was surprised was still alive. Nobody had connected with her family very much. My uncle and this woman had an old dog that roamed around their property. They had fed him after he wandered in one day when it was raining and he just didn't leave. They hadn't named him, but I used to call him Tank for how strong he looked as he patrolled the house with this woman not even caring about what happened to him. I asked one of my cousins, Ari, to come with me, and she agreed, but made it very clear that she wanted to be out of the house before it got dark outside, And I forgot to mention that Ari had also had an experience in there, but also refused to tell us the whole story. As luck would have it, Tank came running up to us when we opened up the gates and barked while turning back toward the house, as if trying to lead us to it. We figured he was doing that to help him get to the dog food bucket and the water pool. So we got back in the car with Hank galloping in front of us toward the house. We were supposed to be in there for only a few minutes to feed him and make sure that his blankets were dry out on his doghouse, but he barked non stop at the front door, expecting us to open it. Ari and I looked at each other. I knew that eventually we'd have to go inside to find out what was happening, so I found the fake rock with the key to the front door and opened it. The smell of musk immediately filled the air. We talked about how much cleaner the house looked, but maybe it just fell empty without my uncle there. That's when he heard someone's footsteps coming from the upstairs area. Tank took off full speed towards the stairs, growling. I could hear his paws against the wooden floorboards above us as he made his way toward what would be my uncle's bedroom and then down the hallway. Ari and I were obviously terrified, and all we could do was stand by the doorframe, waiting as Tank rushed back towards the stairs and then chased this invisible thing all the way to the door, barking towards the outside, and he stood next to us, shaking and panting a little more relaxed than before. It's as though he could see something that we couldn't. We didn't want to leave him there by himself, but there was no way we would be able to take him with us. He would flat out refuse, so we shut the front door, put a big mountain of dog food, and made sure that his water bowls were full, and then we got back in the car as he ate. I knew ARII wouldn't want to talk about the situation, so we stayed quiet for most of the drive to my house, which he dropped me off. My uncle was able to leave the hospital later on that week, and after all the commotion. There was another problem because during his stay something must have clicked in his mind, because my uncle decided to break ties with this woman and live out there on his own. We were obviously in favor of that, and eventually the woman went to the house to pack her things and that was that. But that time, maybe a few months after that, when I went to visit and noticed that something was off about the house. It was much cleaner than before now with that woman gone, but it had an even stranger feel to it that would wear you out as soon as you stepped inside. One weekend, I went over to help move some things from the shed to the house, mainly collectibles and other items that my uncle had been forced to put up in storage when the woman had been living with him, and I decided to spend the night since i'd have to be there early in the morning anyway, I got settled into the guest room that he had next to the living room, said good night to my uncle as he walked up the stairs, and I shut off the lights from the living room before stepping back inside and flicking off my light through the window. The fields were scary looking, especially at night, with the dry grass fields and the line of trees in the distance. The moon was bright, and the dry trees that were closer to the house cast shadows of long, sharp claws all around the room through my window. Somehow, after holding my eyes shut tightly for what seemed like forever. I finally managed to go to sleep, but it was around three in the morning when I heard the sudden, tiny steps of a person coming up toward my door. I tried to open my eyes completely, it felt so heavy. I was only able to make out the sounds of the doorknob twisting and the door hitch squeaking as the steps continued. I had to really try to shake myself awake until I finally did. When I heard the sound of my door shut, I looked out into the mostly empty room, covering part of my face with the blanket, imagining things just like I had done millions of times when I was a kid. Even the mop upside down the corner of the room looked alive. It tilted its head and its long droopy hair stayed completely still. It was like a child abnormally skinny, twisting its body as it took a step closer toward my bed. I smiled at my own thoughts, believing them only a little bit, as I fully covered my face and tried to go to sleep. The next morning went as expected, with waffles and eggs for breakfast, and two of my cousins coming over to help organize the house, the one that we started working on right away. Once everyone was leaving and we were tidying everything up, I ran to the guest room to grab the mop to clean the kitchen, but it wasn't there, and I thought it was strange. I had seen it the night before, after all, and I couldn't think of anyone else going in there when I had all my things inside. Eventually I found the mop in the shed, wondering how it had ended up all the way there, but not making a big deal about it. When we were all finished, we decided to set up a housewarming party of sorts for my uncle, and it was at that party where I realized just how strange that house really was. After a couple of drinks, we asked my cousin Ari a few questions about her job and other uncomfortable things she never liked to talk to us about. Eventually, the topic of the house came up, and I asked her to tell me why she refused to come inside at night. What she said sent chills down my spine. She had seen a figure, not some shadowy one, but its skinny creature, like a little girl with wet brown hair standing in the corner of the room where she spent the night in the guest room. She tried to brush it off, but it twisted its way to the bed before it vanished. She was telling me the story. She was lost in thought that she turned to me and asked, do you remember Miranda, the cleaning lady. I just waited for her to finish, looking at her straight in the eye. Well, she saw it too. She was scared to death when she quit, saying that she had gotten very close to it, thinking it was a mop based on a suggestion from a Live Star reviewer with a request for one about a cursed child, I bring you the babysitter, and it is coming up right after this. When I was in high school, a lot of my friends started getting jobs, like at the tutoring center and at the movie theater, one of course sounded more fun than the other, but they were able to buy themselves things from the mall with their own money, which at the time was the coolest thing you could possibly do. When I asked my parents about getting a job, they weren't too happy about it and started offering me odd jobs around the house in exchange for cash. But it didn't feel the same. Eventually, Dad said that if I managed to get light weekend jobs like babysitting or mowing lawns, he would offer to drive me. So I asked around til a friend of mine suggested that I just post myself as a babysitter on Facebook, which I did. Looking for work babysitter forty dollars available weekend, daytime and evenings. Please send a message for more info. I press submit and received a notification almost right away. It was alike from one of my friends, and she was typing a comment. A couple of seconds after that I saw it. She attacked somebody that I didn't know. Obviously. I clicked on that person's profile and saw that she was a teacher at another school, and with that I just kind of forgot about it. About two weeks after that, I received a message from a person who was a friend of a friend, apparently asking about availability for that same upcoming Friday. It was a five year old girl. Her parents were going to go out to a company dinner and needed someone to take care of her that evening. My heart skipped a beat. I didn't know how to charge. Was I going to be able to take snacks like they do in the movies, that I have to take games or something else. I said that yes, I was available, and they gave me the address not too far from where I lived, and I agreed to meet them at seven pm and ran downstairs to tell my parents the news. Mom was the one that was worried about things first, saying that I should make sure that my cellphone was charged and that in case anything happened to that kid, I needed to ask her parents for emergency phone numbers. My dad was more relaxed about it, asking at what time he was supposed to pick me up. I had forgotten to ask him about that, but I figured I just asked him later. My stomach was making all kinds of noises when my last class of the day was over on Friday, but the next day i'd have money that I would be earning on my own. Finally, A showered, got ready and waited for my dad to come home from work, and I ate quickly because I didn't want to be late. But even my dad said that the place was less than ten minutes away and to relax. We pulled up to the house at six fifty five. The lights were dim in the front porch, and there was an old station wagon parked in the driveway. As I was walking up to the porch, a woman of around forty years old or so walked up to me, put a keychain in her hand and a notebook in the other. She smiled forcefully at me, telling me that the girl's name was Millie and that she had already eaten dinner. Her bedtime was nine pm, but if she behaved, she would be allowed to watch a TV show until ten pm at the latest, that she'd usually fall asleep before it was over. I asked her what time they would be back, but she gave me a glare then and once again faked a smiled and said around eleven thirty or so, and that she would take down my number to let me know. Her husband came out the front door, completely ignoring me. Then he walked over to the car. He glanced over at me once he was at the driver's seat and his wife was in the car. That's when I looked over to my dad, who was parked on the curb in front of the two story house as he waved and then drove away too. I walked up to the door, wondering what this kid was like Millie, I asked, as I walked through the front door and the staircase. Peeking through the handrails was the girl. She was thin, with dark hair, and her eyes were wide open. Are you Sarah, she asked, grinning. I introduced myself and told her that I would be hanging out in living room in case she wanted to play or watch something on TV. We can play hide and seek, she suggested, stepping down the stairs. Maybe we can play that later, I told her. As I try to figure out the remote to turn the TV on. She walked over to me, asking if I wanted to see her pet rat. My stomach turned a little bit. I hated those things and I couldn't believe people would keep them ass pets, and did my best to hide the look of disgust in my face When I suggested that maybe later. She asked me what my last name was, and what my house looked like, and all these other random questions that made no sense if I like raisins, or about what my favorite insects were. She then picked up a coloring book from the center table and two crayons. Then she sat next to me. She was drawing dark circles around the characters and grinning with a look I had never seen on a chie Something was off about her, the way she talked to herself, but the voice that didn't seem like her own. As she colored the figures with the wrong colors, she asked to play hide and seek over and over again, until finally, at around ten at night, I agreed, this little girl should have been asleep by then. I know I'm really good at hiding. She said, I'll look for you, then, I replied, secretly, planning to just let her hide for a while for some peace and quiet. I realized I probably wasn't going to be very good at this job. She ran up the stairs and I could hear exactly where she was going through the thin floors. She was giggling in the strangest way. As I heard a door shut on the second floor, I got lost in the show. I was watching vivalist program that they had on a channel we didn't get at my house, and when it was over, I realized that I hadn't heard for a million a while. A bit worried now, I walked over the stairs and started climbing up toward the second floor. The walls were lined with old photographs. They must have been anywhere from thirty to over one hundred years old from the looks of it. Old couples with serious faces looking straight at the camera. I made it to the hallway, which had even more portraits of people that were separated by lights that looked like candles. Along the carpeted hallway, I looked around, wondering where that little girl could be, until I spotted a light on from the gap underneath one of the doors. I walked up to it, tried twisting the door knob just to see if it was locked, and easily and quietly it opened. I peeked inside, holding my breath at the sight of a mountain of toys on a box. By the window, there was a couch filled to the top with dolls of all shapes and sizes, porcelain dolls, plush dolls, rag ones too, all of them neatly sitting next to each other, as if they were the audience of a show about to begin. I looked at the walls, full of pages torn from dozens of coloring books, and all of them terribly colored in I heard something move from across the room from the direction of the couch. I stopped completely still until I heard a soft giggle that spotted her a face and between all of the dolls, holding that strange grin that had scared me when I first met her. Still, I pretended not to see her. I hear a noise, I said, pretending to look around. I looked at the audience of doll staring right at me when I noticed the blinking face. It was a bit paler than I remembered, but I saw her eyes fixed on me. She knew I could see her, and yet she wouldn't move. I stepped closer to the dolls, expecting her to jump out at me, but she simply sat there, completely still and covered up by the other dolls. Then I saw her turn her head slowly toward the door. That's when I heard a sound. It was a front door and Millie's mom calling my name. But it was then when I heard the footsteps and giggles from Millie as she opened the door from across the hallway, calling out for her mom, then running down the stairs laughing. I took a look back at the dolls. All of them we're sitting perfectly still, well except for one. You can get this story and more completely at free by going to scaryplus dot com to try it out, and you can also get seven days for free on the Apple Podcasts app. If you visit our show profile, if there's something you'd like to see on there, please let me know on Instagram or by email. I'll leave links to those in the description of this episode. Now banks be sure to check out my other podcast called A Dark Memory, which is about ghosts, legends, and mysteries and for extra creepy stories of people telling their own paranormal encounters. Search for true scary story, but as always, thank you very much for listening. See us sooner