Okay, picture this:
I'm riding my bike through the neighborhood, minding my own business. A middle-aged couple, somewhat attractive, are walking along together. I pass by them on my bike without a word. Suddenly the woman hollers after me: "Miss! Oh, miss!" She gets louder and more persistent until I stop to see what she wants. It's clear she's referring to me, because there's not another soul to be seen on the entire street.
She tells me that she and her husband are new in the neighborhood, and that they could use some "help" with their house. For some reason, she's insistent on me helping them.
I figure, "Hey, what could it hurt?" So I agree.
At their house (which is a complete mess), the lady admits that she's grown up without doing chores (even though she has to be at least in her late forties, possibly early fifties), and she doesn't really know how to clean a house by herself. Though her husband is there, she (again, for some unknown, bizarre reason) needs another woman to help her function, particularly a young woman like myself.
I make very basic suggestions that she accepts as absolutely revolutionary, like she never heard of anything so wonderful in her entire life. For instance, I suggest where she could place her couch, and when her husband suggests moving it somewhere else, his wife will have none of it. She flies into an irrational rage at the very idea of ignoring or altering my ideas in any way. If I say something (even if it's no more than a friendly suggestion), she accepts it as something that must be done; no ifs, ands, or buts.
Over time, this lady becomes obsessed with every little thing about me. She gets hysterical if I change my clothes, cut my hair, exchange my glasses for contact lenses, or even start dating. She treats me as if I'm totally flawless the way I am, and that any changes, however harmless and even necessary, are unforgivable sins.
When someone says, "Don't ever change," this lady uses that joking phrase as a threat.
I don't know how the story should end, since that was about the time I woke up.
But I think with a little time and work, this would make for a fabulous short horror story.
No comments:
Post a Comment