Timmy was sitting in the living room, absently watching the TV. His mind wasn’t really on the show; it was on Vicky, his babysitter, who was supposed to arrive any minute now. He dreaded the thought of her showing up. Vicky wasn’t exactly the kind of babysitter that kids looked forward to seeing, it was... more like the opposite.
The doorbell rang, sharp and loud, snapping Timmy out of his thoughts. With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself up from the couch.
"That’s gotta be Vicky," he muttered under his breath.
"I better open up before she breaks the door"
He made his way to the front door, bracing himself for the usual storm of complaints or demands that Vicky brought with her. But when he opened the door, the person standing there wasn’t Vicky at all. Timmy blinked, momentarily thrown off.
"Wait... you’re not Vicky, who are you?" he asked, confusion creeping into his voice.