Ding-Dong! “Get the door will you?” Mother Cowpat shouted from the top of her lungs while waiting by the stairs. I slowly twisted the luminous doorknob, when I looked down at the step in front of me, which had a small cream coloured basket placed on top of it. It reminded me of the one I had used last week for our picnic. I knelt down on the step to take a closer look at it. There was a note attached to it. It read “Please take good care of my child, he has been with me for some time now, but his needs I just can’t meet. Whatever food I provide gets spat back out, not to mention the problem of his constant gnawing of his pacifiers. I suggest you don’t upset him for your own good.”
My God! Who could have left their child of all the places here? I mean everybody in town knows we are very poor and only get by because of our farming.
I carefully lifted the basket and took it inside the house. Now, what to do with it was the problem, at first I thought of hiding it, but what would that do?
I told Mother of our little ‘situation’ we were having, and she wasn’t at all pleased, and enough moaning occurred to send you unconscious. She eventually sighed, and asked me if I had actually looked at the baby yet, I told her that I hadn’t. She slowly removed the basket grasped in my hands and took it into the living room, then turned on the lights.
“Gordon Bennett!” I heard her cry in a split second. As I hurried into the living room I was confused. She screamed but wasn’t moving. I faced her from the opposite side of the room when I noticed she was staring at the floor pointing in horror. “What? What’s wrong?” I asked nervously. “I think you better look at this!” I looked to the floor where lay the basket. Inside was the baby. “So what?” She told me to look deeper. I didn’t get this, but I did as I was told. There was just a pair of small feet, tiny legs at the bottom. As I kept on looking I saw the stomach and arms. Now for the head. I stared at the head, just a regular chin, a large mouth with sharp teeth, a long grey snout covered in fur and two big pairs of piercing black eyes. I could believe this, whatever it was, it was far from human. My reaction was now the same as my panicked mother. A quiet groaning noise crept from the basket. It sent sudden chills down my spine. I certainly did not like this, not at all!
The groaning now became ferocious growling. Both of us hid behind the sofa, not knowing what was going to happen next. Who knows what this creature could be capable of? I realised the note what was attached to the basket from the mother was still slipped in my back pocket. I referred back to the section about food, which got me even more worried. I began to realise what was happening here. We ARE the food.
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