Veronica's Baby | Teen Ink

Veronica's Baby

February 9, 2012
By Marisa Sehested BRONZE, Smithtown, New York
Marisa Sehested BRONZE, Smithtown, New York
1 article 0 photos 1 comment

The eerie glow of the moon began to fade into the black mist surrounding the clouds. A slight whistle of the wind can be heard along with the screeching yelps escaping an old bat’s mouth. A river stayed put, rippling after each touch of an animal’s tongue. Ronnie sat on the edge of her bed typing on her laptop. Vanilla leaked from a pallid candle that was carefully placed on a beige china dish on the maple oak nightstand. Her fingers typed furiously as she starred into the screen. A thin pair of tortoise shell framed glasses slid down her nose. Her nose immediately crinkled as she drew her head back to stop the glasses from moving. The wavy golden hair that grew wildly out of her head shook quietly.

Her adopted parents had left to go to a party, leaving Ronnie by herself in the house that sat alone on top of a hill. The sky was darkening into a rich black color that covered the stars and left the moon to be the only light source. Another hoot of a howl echoed in the forest.
The small lips on her face curved into a yawn. Ronnie stood up and walked to her dresser where she pulled out her pajamas. She hastily changed into the new clothes and jumped into her bed. Her pale hands gripped the blankets and stretched them up to where her chin laid on the white pillow. Her face rubbed into the pillow as she smiled with pleasure. The pillow smelled musty, almost like a grilled scent. The smell traveled down Ronnie’s lungs, scraping into them. She coughed harshly and flipped the pillow over. The scent was still there, increasing until it was all she could smell. Ronnie grasped the pillow and held it under the candle. She noticed stray black streaks on the pillow, closer to the corners rather than the middle. Ronnie promptly paced out of her room and down the maple oak stairs, in the dark, towards the linen closet. She turned the brass knob, opened the door and grabbed a pillow. She sprinted up the stairs, hitting her foot on each cold, hard stair as she lastly reached her room. Her chest rose and sunk after the breaths she regained. She huffed heavily and brought the pillow up to her nose and smelled it.
“Ah, ah, ahchoo!” Ronnie sneezed loudly. Her hand sprung up to her nose to cover it. It still smelled like other pillow. A soft groan escaped her lips. She stepped out of her room, but this time she grabbed the candle with her.

The smell was just as strong now. It seeped into her nostrils as Ronnie shook her head in disgust. Her two fingers pinched her nose, slightly, as she walked down the hallway into her parent’s room for a new pillow.

A ripped, black object flickered under the light. Ronnie’s eyes ran to it as her knees bent down. Her fingers trembled towards the jagged object as she tried to pick it up. It sharply, jerked forward down the strip of the hallway. It rested only two feet away from Ronnie. Her slippers hushed on the floor as she walked after it. Her arm reached down but, it still jerked backwards.

“Come on,” Ronnie sighed. She ran after it as it slid farther down, it stopped at the door entering the guest room. “Come on,” Ronnie repeated in a whisper. “Come here.”

The object slowly swept the floor backwards, it then halted.

“Finally,” Ronnie ran into the room as her fingers skimmed the wall until they flicked the light on. Her eyes rested on the black object. On it, there was a thin, plastic, brown rope tied to it.

Ronnie’s breath began to quicken as she noticed the end of the rope lying underneath her parent’s bed. She backed out of the room slowly as her eyes strained at the object. Her hand smacked the light off as she slammed the door shut. She ran down the hallway where the black thing touched. She jumped into her room and shut the door. A loud smacking sound was created. Ronnie backed away from the door, starring at the knob. She thought it would have moved and turned or shook from the banging on the door. But, she heard nothing, Her body stood still and tense as she waited for a sound.

A sting shot through her veins and onto her hand. Ronnie’s eyes leaped down where she saw the tips of her fingers about to touch the mushy candle. She quickly raised the candle to her mouth and blew harshly. Her shaking hand set the candle on the shelf while the nerves vibrated and began to fasten her pulse.

“Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow,” she muttered in pain. Her other hand held onto the other and squeezed tightly. She released it and shook her hand angrily. Ronnie walked to window and lifted it open to allow a new breeze in. It ruffled in her waves and blew against the sheets of paper resting on her desk. She stuck her hand out to cool it down. Relief washed through Ronnie softly and soothingly. Once her eyes were relaxed and calm, Ronnie tucked herself inside of her bed. She gripped the sheets and laid her head on the bare mattress. She was beginning to feel more restless as the breeze hit her face again; her body squirmed under the covers until she was completely buried in blankets. It was hot yet tranquil in there, but Ronnie did not mind. Her eyes slowly closed and her breaths became subtle. It was black in her mind.

“Ronnie, Ronnie…. Ronnie?” a soothing voice welcomed into her ears, nipping at her nerves. Ronnie shifted and squeezed her eyes. It sounded like her mother’s voice; calm and caring. Why is her mother home, she wondered while her eyes opened slowly.

Its pupils were a dark, blood red. Its eyelash lines had small cracks from where its lashes should have been, the texture was similar to rusted iron. The skin strewn tight on its cheeks, letting bones begin to break onto the surface. Its eyebrows were unusually hairy and large, as were its ears. The baby’s mouth opened while lifting its boney, stubby hand out from the dark. Caring words drifted into a soft lullaby from its mouth.
“Ronnie, Ronnie, Ronnie?”

Ronnie rolled out of the bed, the baby jumped on top of her grabbing her shoulders and squeezing hard. She cried out, gasping from the stinging caused by the contact with its bones. Ronnie grasped it and threw it against the dresser. A small popping sound escaped into the atmosphere. The gold knob screwed in cracked its head open. Purple blood began to flow out from the opening, as it traveled down the pointed cheek, spilling out to the wood floors. The baby’s eyes rolled backwards to reveal a translucent substance foaming out of the eye sockets. Eventually the slight figure of its chest stopped moving.

Purple, thick fluids raced down the wooden floor up to her bare knee. As it touched her, Ronnie heard screams, and screams, and screams. She shut her eyes and saw the baby again, crying innocently as its blue eyes penetrated into hers. Its stare broke her balance as she collapsed to the floor.

“Ronnie?” an arm stroked hers.

“Get away from me!” she shrieked while flapping her arms at the stranger.

“Veronica?” Ronnie opened her eyes to only see her mother staring at her.

“Veronica? I told you to not fall asleep with the window opened and better yet, why would you go to sleep with wet nails? Did you paint them in the dark?” she demanded at her, her eyes narrowing into Ronnie’s.

“I didn’t paint my nails Mom.” Ronnie whispered under her blankets.

Her mother’s hand reached under Ronnie’s and pulled her wrist out. She stared at her fingers and then wagged them in front of her face.

“What’s this? Did you get it in your bed?” Ronnie’s eyes caught the clumps of purple encrusted under her nails and embedded deep in the rounded corners. She gasped as her hands flew to her face.

“And, you will clean up the mess too.” Her Mother added while pointing at the floor.
She walked out of the room while slamming the door, similar to the noise it made the previous night.

Ronnie stepped lightly out of her bed. “No, no,no,” she repeated, hoping there wasn’t any blood on the floor, but there was. Dried deep outlining the veins in the wood where it had gushed to meet her leg last night. She dropped to her knees as her index finger skimmed the crack. She felt the blood and heard the screams.


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This article has 2 comments.


jillla BRONZE said...
on Feb. 16 2012 at 10:44 am
jillla BRONZE, Hauppauge, New York
2 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"If you feel under control, you're just not going fast enough"

This is soo goood!

Drew3333 said...
on Feb. 15 2012 at 7:34 pm
A tad disturbing.... But amusing. Write more!!!