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Poulet Frit

Part 2: The Child

Everyday I see her, the lady with the red on her hands. Whenever I walk home from school with Daddy, I point her out. Daddy says she’s just a normal lady, waiting for someone to pick her up. He says that she probably just got off of work. But everyday, while walking past, she stares at me. Sometimes, when we go out for dinner, we walk past the same lamp post, and she’s still there…staring at me. Mommy doesn’t seem too concerned about the lady, either.
This afternoon, on the way home from school, she was watching us walk again, this time though, she smiled, and I noticed blood oozing from her mouth…Daddy didn’t believe me. When Mommy got home and I told her, she didn’t believe me either.
Now, as I hear them screaming downstairs, I don’t believe them. They have been doing it for the past couple nights. I don’t believe it’s them…I think it’s the lady trying to get me out of my safe bedroom. Whenever I call for Mommy and Daddy, the screaming stops, and Mommy says to go to sleep.

The Aux Cable