LJ Idol, Season 10 Week 20: Open Topic
When Rafaela was five years old, she knew exactly how cute she was. And she exploited it. She used her round cheeks and her bouncy black curls to hook them, and her big, dark brown eyes and thick lashes to reel them in.
No one was immune to her charms, except for her mother. Even then she had her mother's friends, to whom she pretended to be bashful so that they would do anything to draw her out of her alleged shell.
The racket worked out pretty well for her. She got presents, sweets, special attention from her kindergarten teacher, and little favors from everybody else. The only downside was that she was getting a little chubby from all the candy and pastries. It didn't matter, as long as she stayed adorable.
Her biggest victim was, naturally, her father, who she had wrapped around her finger. He and her mother would occasionally quarrel about her, especially since her brother was born. But whenever her mother had to leave town for a business trip, Rafaela lorded over the place.
And that's why it was midnight, and she was still wide awake in bed, describing the plot of her father's favorite grownup movie-which he let her see because she asked nicely-to Reggie the Unicorn, Mr. Willikins the Badger, and Bear the Fox.
“And then he chopped off his head! Chopped it right off! And then-what is it Mr. Willikins?”
She held Mr. Willikins, the most outspoken of the group, to her ear for a few moments, nodding along.
“Yes, Mr. Willikins, he was dead. You don't get your head chopped off and live. And then, lightning started coming out of the dead guy! And it blew up all the cars! And then it started going in the other guy-the one who chopped off his head! Yes, Reggie?”
Reggie was a unicorn scientist who probably knew a lot about what was going on, so she listened carefully to him.
“No, Reggie, the lightning didn't hurt him. It was magical lightning. Daddy says it makes you stronger.”
Reggie had a follow-up question.
“No, Reggie, lightning wouldn't make you stronger. Just the guys in the movie.”
She was about to dive into the next part of the film, where the men had long hair and wore skirts, but she stopped when the closet door creaked open. She debated with herself whether or not she should get out of bed and close it. The only reason she thought the door should be closed is because when it was open, it was easy to imagine monsters inside. But she shouldn't worry about monsters. From when she was old enough to talk, her parents had told her that monsters were absolutely, 100 percent real, but she was safe from them as long as she stayed inside the house. So there couldn't be a monster in the closet.
And then it cackled.
Rafaela swallowed.
“What have we here?” asked whatever was in the closet.
“I'm Rafaela Torres, and I don't think you belong here.”
“Such a pretty name. Let me get a look at you.” The door creaked open further, revealing nothing but darkness. “Ha ha, yes! Look at you! You have a bit of plump on you. That's good! When I bring you home and roast you over my fireplace, your fat will dribble down my chin. You're going to be so delicious!”
As quietly as she could, and never taking her eyes off of the closet, she climbed out of bed. Clutching Mr. Willikins, she left her room and made her way to her parents' where she found her father snoring enthusiastically.
“Daddy,” she whispered.
He snored away.
“Daddy,” she said, a little louder.
He continued to snore.
She leaned in close to his ear and shouted, “Daddy!”
He bolted awake. “What's going on? What?” He looked over the room until his eyes found Rafaela. “What is it, Angel?”
“Daddy, there's a monster in my closet.”
He sighed. “There's no monsters in your closet. Mommy and I cast a spell to keep them out before you were born.”
“But, Daddy, it's talking about eating me!”
He shook his head. “You're just having a nightmare. Go back to bed.”
“Just look for me, Daddy!”
“No, Angel,” he replied, “you're perfectly safe. Now go to bed.”
She left his room and shuffled down the hallway. He wouldn't even take a look for her? She made a mental note to withhold affection for a little while, just to teach him a lesson.
So what was she supposed to do now? She couldn't go back to bed, because the monster in the closet was going to cook and eat her. But she had to deal with this situation. “What would Mommy and Daddy do?” she muttered. A grin blossomed on her face. “I know!”
She made a detour to the kitchen for a few minutes before going back to her room and cautiously walking up to the closet. “Hello?” she announced.
The door flew open and the monster jumped out. Through the outside light that filtered through her windows she could make out a shape just a little smaller than her really old great-grandmother. It was naked, except for a ragged loincloth, and its large belly hung down limply, like a water balloon. Its teeth were dull, and several of them were missing, and wisps of hair sprouted from the top of its shriveled head. Its bloodshot eyes leered ravenously at her. “Hello, tasty!”
Rafaela shrieked, threw Mr. Willikins at it, turned, and ran as fast as she could. She didn't know what it would do to Mr. Willikins, but when she looked over her shoulder she could see clumps of cotton in its teeth.
Truly it was a monster.
As she predicted, it chased her into the kitchen, and shortly after she made it inside, she stopped running and faced it. The monster was right behind her, and it was just about to reach her when it came to a complete halt.
“What did you do?” it demanded.
“Salt,” she replied, pointing to the ring of white powder surrounding the monster. “Mommy and Daddy say that salt traps most monsters.”
“I was going to kill you before I cooked you,” it told her, “but not anymore. I'm going to eat you alive! You hear me?”
“But you know what Mommy and Daddy say monsters really hate?” She hit it on the shin with a frying pan. “Iron!”
It yelped and hopped around on one foot while Rafaela giggled.
Her father's voice growled from the hallway, “I don't know what you think you're doing, Angel, but you're in deep-” The overhead kitchen light flipped on, and his eyes fell on the monster. “Oh.”
“I told you, Daddy!”
He shook his head for a moment before saying, “Angel, come with me.”
She followed him to the living room, where he opened a cedar chest, pulled several items from it, and headed back the way he came, but not before ordering her, “Stay here, and don't come into the kitchen for any reason.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
She heard her father chanting while the monster called him some bad names. There was a flash of light, then silence.
He returned to the living room and dropped to his knees in front of her. “Angel, I'm so sorry. I was tired, and I wasn't thinking, and I was cocky, and I put you and your little brother in danger. I promise never to doubt you again.”
“It killed Mr. Willikins!”
“We'll get you a new badger.”
“I don't want a new badger! I want a puppy.”
“We'll talk about it tomorrow.” He held his arms out. “Forgive me?”
She should have been furious with him, but she couldn't stay mad. He was her daddy, after all. She hugged him, and he carried her safely to bed.
No one was immune to her charms, except for her mother. Even then she had her mother's friends, to whom she pretended to be bashful so that they would do anything to draw her out of her alleged shell.
The racket worked out pretty well for her. She got presents, sweets, special attention from her kindergarten teacher, and little favors from everybody else. The only downside was that she was getting a little chubby from all the candy and pastries. It didn't matter, as long as she stayed adorable.
Her biggest victim was, naturally, her father, who she had wrapped around her finger. He and her mother would occasionally quarrel about her, especially since her brother was born. But whenever her mother had to leave town for a business trip, Rafaela lorded over the place.
And that's why it was midnight, and she was still wide awake in bed, describing the plot of her father's favorite grownup movie-which he let her see because she asked nicely-to Reggie the Unicorn, Mr. Willikins the Badger, and Bear the Fox.
“And then he chopped off his head! Chopped it right off! And then-what is it Mr. Willikins?”
She held Mr. Willikins, the most outspoken of the group, to her ear for a few moments, nodding along.
“Yes, Mr. Willikins, he was dead. You don't get your head chopped off and live. And then, lightning started coming out of the dead guy! And it blew up all the cars! And then it started going in the other guy-the one who chopped off his head! Yes, Reggie?”
Reggie was a unicorn scientist who probably knew a lot about what was going on, so she listened carefully to him.
“No, Reggie, the lightning didn't hurt him. It was magical lightning. Daddy says it makes you stronger.”
Reggie had a follow-up question.
“No, Reggie, lightning wouldn't make you stronger. Just the guys in the movie.”
She was about to dive into the next part of the film, where the men had long hair and wore skirts, but she stopped when the closet door creaked open. She debated with herself whether or not she should get out of bed and close it. The only reason she thought the door should be closed is because when it was open, it was easy to imagine monsters inside. But she shouldn't worry about monsters. From when she was old enough to talk, her parents had told her that monsters were absolutely, 100 percent real, but she was safe from them as long as she stayed inside the house. So there couldn't be a monster in the closet.
And then it cackled.
Rafaela swallowed.
“What have we here?” asked whatever was in the closet.
“I'm Rafaela Torres, and I don't think you belong here.”
“Such a pretty name. Let me get a look at you.” The door creaked open further, revealing nothing but darkness. “Ha ha, yes! Look at you! You have a bit of plump on you. That's good! When I bring you home and roast you over my fireplace, your fat will dribble down my chin. You're going to be so delicious!”
As quietly as she could, and never taking her eyes off of the closet, she climbed out of bed. Clutching Mr. Willikins, she left her room and made her way to her parents' where she found her father snoring enthusiastically.
“Daddy,” she whispered.
He snored away.
“Daddy,” she said, a little louder.
He continued to snore.
She leaned in close to his ear and shouted, “Daddy!”
He bolted awake. “What's going on? What?” He looked over the room until his eyes found Rafaela. “What is it, Angel?”
“Daddy, there's a monster in my closet.”
He sighed. “There's no monsters in your closet. Mommy and I cast a spell to keep them out before you were born.”
“But, Daddy, it's talking about eating me!”
He shook his head. “You're just having a nightmare. Go back to bed.”
“Just look for me, Daddy!”
“No, Angel,” he replied, “you're perfectly safe. Now go to bed.”
She left his room and shuffled down the hallway. He wouldn't even take a look for her? She made a mental note to withhold affection for a little while, just to teach him a lesson.
So what was she supposed to do now? She couldn't go back to bed, because the monster in the closet was going to cook and eat her. But she had to deal with this situation. “What would Mommy and Daddy do?” she muttered. A grin blossomed on her face. “I know!”
She made a detour to the kitchen for a few minutes before going back to her room and cautiously walking up to the closet. “Hello?” she announced.
The door flew open and the monster jumped out. Through the outside light that filtered through her windows she could make out a shape just a little smaller than her really old great-grandmother. It was naked, except for a ragged loincloth, and its large belly hung down limply, like a water balloon. Its teeth were dull, and several of them were missing, and wisps of hair sprouted from the top of its shriveled head. Its bloodshot eyes leered ravenously at her. “Hello, tasty!”
Rafaela shrieked, threw Mr. Willikins at it, turned, and ran as fast as she could. She didn't know what it would do to Mr. Willikins, but when she looked over her shoulder she could see clumps of cotton in its teeth.
Truly it was a monster.
As she predicted, it chased her into the kitchen, and shortly after she made it inside, she stopped running and faced it. The monster was right behind her, and it was just about to reach her when it came to a complete halt.
“What did you do?” it demanded.
“Salt,” she replied, pointing to the ring of white powder surrounding the monster. “Mommy and Daddy say that salt traps most monsters.”
“I was going to kill you before I cooked you,” it told her, “but not anymore. I'm going to eat you alive! You hear me?”
“But you know what Mommy and Daddy say monsters really hate?” She hit it on the shin with a frying pan. “Iron!”
It yelped and hopped around on one foot while Rafaela giggled.
Her father's voice growled from the hallway, “I don't know what you think you're doing, Angel, but you're in deep-” The overhead kitchen light flipped on, and his eyes fell on the monster. “Oh.”
“I told you, Daddy!”
He shook his head for a moment before saying, “Angel, come with me.”
She followed him to the living room, where he opened a cedar chest, pulled several items from it, and headed back the way he came, but not before ordering her, “Stay here, and don't come into the kitchen for any reason.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
She heard her father chanting while the monster called him some bad names. There was a flash of light, then silence.
He returned to the living room and dropped to his knees in front of her. “Angel, I'm so sorry. I was tired, and I wasn't thinking, and I was cocky, and I put you and your little brother in danger. I promise never to doubt you again.”
“It killed Mr. Willikins!”
“We'll get you a new badger.”
“I don't want a new badger! I want a puppy.”
“We'll talk about it tomorrow.” He held his arms out. “Forgive me?”
She should have been furious with him, but she couldn't stay mad. He was her daddy, after all. She hugged him, and he carried her safely to bed.