The Haunting Hour

The Haunting Hour Read Free Page B

Book: The Haunting Hour Read Free
Author: R.L. Stine
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shakes his head and frowns. “What on earth does he have to be unhappy about?”
    Mommy raises me close to her face. “Come on, smile, Marky. It’s a happy day. It’s your first Halloween!”

The Bad Baby-Sitter
    INTRODUCTION
    ILLUSTRATED BY VINCE NATALE
    O ne night when I was a kid, a new baby-sitter came to the house. She was young and pretty, and I looked forward to a fun night.
    I was wrong.
    As soon as my parents left, the baby-sitter started telling me frightening stories. She told me about a two-headed kid who went to her school. And about a teacher who died but kept right on teaching.
    She told me about a scientist who kept a living human brain in a fish tank and brought it to parties. And about a boy my age who had fish gills on his neck and could breathe only underwater.
    She told me the stories were all true, and I believed her. By the time I went to bed, I was shaking so hard, I couldn’t sleep!
    I remembered that baby-sitter when I started this story. And I tried to create a baby-sitter even more frightening than the one I had that night.
    I was so glad when Mom told Larry and Maryjo they had to leave. And I could see that my sister, Courtney, was glad too. Yes, they live next door, so Mom says we have to be nice to them. Courtney and I try, but give me a break .
    These kids are oinkers. I’m trying to be polite. But they are total oinkers. Oink oink .
    In my room that day, Larry found a bag of potato chips I had been saving. You should have seen the way he snuffled down the whole bag —with the bag shoved over his face! Then he grinned with the grease shining on his round cheeks and chin.
    And the gross burping noises he made. Come on— we’re twelve years old. Burping hasn’t been funny since we were ten.
    My dog, Muttley, burst in and sniffed out the potato-chip bag Larry had tossed on the floor. Muttley dove for the bag and started chewing it up.
    That big mutt will eat anything. I had to wrestle it from his mouth—and he bit me!
    Ha ha. That made Larry laugh.
    Later I started to show Larry my new PlayStation racing game. “Give me that, Matthew,” he said. He grabbed the controller so hard, he ripped the cord in two.
    Did he say he was sorry? No. He started giggling and rolling on his back. Like it was real funny. Oink oink .
    I could hear my sister arguing with Maryjo down the hall. They fight every time they are together. I don’t know what it was about this time, but I heard Courtney shout, “It’s not nice to call people names, you moron!”
    Sometimes Courtney really loses it when Maryjo is around. She hates Maryjo’s scratchy voice and the way she whines all the time. And she hates the way Maryjo is constantly brushing her long blondhair, brushing, brushing—even at the dinner table.
    So we were glad when Mom herded everyone together. “Sorry to break up the party, guys,” Mom said. “But Larry and Maryjo have to go home now. I’m meeting your dad at the mall. The new baby-sitter will be here any minute.”
    â€œCan I have something to drink before I leave?” Larry asked. He always has to have a drink before he goes. Like he’ll die of thirst before he gets home.
    â€œMe too,” his oinky sister whined.
    Mom hurried to get them juice boxes. Then we sent them out into the rain. It was really coming down. I enjoyed slamming the door behind them.
    â€œOops, it slipped,” I told Mom.
    Mom squinted at me. “Matthew, that wasn’t nice.”
    â€œWhy do we have to have a baby-sitter?” I asked, changing the subject. “I’m twelve years old. I can take care of myself.”
    â€œYour sister is only eight,” Mom replied. “Do you really want to be responsible for her?”
    I turned to Courtney. She flashed me a devilish grin. Mom was right. Courtney is trouble.
    For one thing, she thinks she’s a gymnast. She’s always doing cartwheels over the

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