I pull up to the house. It’s quite large, two story’s, completely white, a yellow glow coming from all the windows but one. And a large gate keeping me from pulling into the driveway. “State your name and business.” A robotic type voice commands. “Oh um Naomi, Naomi Parter. You hired me to babysit. I live down the street.” “Permission granted.” A light flashed green and the gates opened. I park my car in there drive way and make my way to the front door. Before I even touch it the door swings open, a lady stands in the door way.

She tall, with short, blonde,hair, pale skin, and greenish eyes, and a grey pantsuit. Probably in her thirty’s. “Come in. Young master Thomas will arrive soon. As well as Mr. and Mrs. Foster.” The lady pulls me into what I think is the living room. “Hello, Ms. Parter. How do you do?” “I’m doing great. How are you?” I reply. “Just fine, thank you.” Mr. Foster is a short, round man. He has red hair, blue eyes, and he’s paler than the lady who let me in. Mrs. Foster is almost the complete opposite! She’s tall, fit, black hair, and has olive skin. I’ve never seen them around the neighborhood but they seem pretty nice. “What time is it, John?” Mrs. Foster asks. “Almost three.” “We must get going then. Thomas should arrive around four. The guest bedroom is on the top floor, second room. His is right next to it. All you have to do is feed him, make sure his homework gets done, and keep him entertained.” “Yes, Mam.” “We’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, Ms. Shane will be accompanying us, so it will just be you and Thomas.” “Ok.” I nod. “Good bye, Ms. Parter.” “Good luck, Ms. Parter.” I hear the lady, Ms. Shane, whisper. Almost exactly an hour later, Thomas arrives. He bursts through the front door. “IM DONE WITH SCHOOL! NATALIE! GET ME A NEW SCHOOL! AND A SNACK! I WANT A SNACK TOO!” He throws his bag in the floor and runs up the stairs so fast, I don’t think he saw me. No wonder they’re paying so much! This child’s a handful. I walk into the kitchen and swing open the cabinets to get the kid a snack. Broccoli, no. Apples, not gonna work. Brussel sprouts? Ugh I don’t want him to hate me. Cookies. Yes, that will do. I grab the plate of cookies and a glass of milk. Then I grab his bag, and hurry up the stairs. His doors locked. How does he expect to get food if he locks the door? Honestly this child is so….ugh. I knock, this job pays to much for me to quit. “You have keys, Natalie!” He yells. “I’m not Natalie.” I sigh. The door swings open, “Why are you in my house? Are you the new Natalie? Because I like the other one more!” He looks like his mother, black hair, skinny,olive skin, and gray eyes. “I’m not replacing Natalie, I-” “Get out of my house then!” “I brought cookies and milk.” He moves out of the doorway, “Well what are you waiting for? Come in, come in!” Then the boy flys! He flys to his bed! I’m babysitting a junior Superman!