The Health Project

The Health Project 

 

She opened her desk to find a baby, the fake one she had to care for in Health class. It was so creepy, open mouth, black eyes, and the laughing and crying was all too realistic. "Why couldn’t we just do the egg like in the shows?" She asked herself, shoving the baby in her backpack, ignoring the crying. Luckily she only had two more days with it until the baby was gone from her life, Sandy didn’t care if she got a bad grade. She drove her way home and threw the baby into the empty crib in her room, where cobwebs still hung, as well as the smell of someone long gone. The indentation years gone. At least this time she was in charge of the baby, not her mother. She fell asleep with the pillow covering her ears and muffling the crying, not too unfamiliar of a feeling.  

 

She woke up early Saturday on again, crying still ringing from the crib. She considered getting ear plugs, "It would be cheaper to pull out the battery." She reasoned with herself. In the end she settled to just leave it in the crib, but not before stopping when she noticed something on the dolls hand. Black streaks were slowly curling around its fingers and onto its wrist. Sandy tried washing it off but it wouldn’t come off, no matter how strong she scrubbed. She sighed and dropped it back into the crib, rocking it slightly, she debated not even turning the baby in. She laid back on her bed and looked at her room, cracked walls, paint slowly falling off in to piles on the ground, a slight smell of something sour to scrunch her nose. Her entire house was like this, not safe for a baby, real or fake.  

She walked around town, in and out of thrift shops, still too rich for her mother's blood. The baby shoved into a large purse like a puppy. She couldn’t find anything and left before she ran into anyone from class. Knowing her mom wouldn’t be home until Sunday, she used the last of her emergency money to buy pizza. She waited outside until the ironically pizza face delivery kid drove up so they wouldn’t see the inside of the house. She sat watching the wall, and entertained herself by putting the pizza on the baby's face to "feed it". 

 

She woke up covered in grease on the sofa with springs sticking out the sides, another unsafe item in this house that could be used in a Saw movie. A flash of people taking pictures of the couch and every other dangerous thing was burned into her mind, she shook her head. Sandy looked over at the baby, the pizza slid off its face leaving a yellow stain on its baby blue shirt. Another memory of her mother looking through court papers with the same stain on her shirt pops up. She rubbed her eyes and gasped, the baby had changed even more. Now all of its arms were covered by the streaks, and she guessed some of its chest. The baby was starting to look almost see-through. Did she do this is her sleep? She didn’t take any of the sleeping pills her mom hid until the people found them, but she couldn’t recall anything past eating pizza last night, but all of the sharpies and dark markers couldn’t do anything like this, much less actually work.  

 

 

 

 

She sat up straight, remembering her mom was getting back today from whatever she did. And surprisingly the house looked worse than usual, how did she let it get this way? She spent all the morning cleaning, brushing dust under carpets, throwing dishes into the duct taped and sagging washer. Completely forgetting about the baby, resting on the couch with the half eaten pizza and bugs starting to congregate and probably making society inside the cushions. Finishing up the last of her "cleaning" she laughed at the thought of the bugs creating a democracy, or maybe they would have a king? She fell back onto the couch, chucking at the thought of a roach with a staff and a crown. She put her hand over her head to grab the baby, but when she pulled it back it was only the blue shirt with the single stain on the front, a staple of its stay at her residence. She got onto her knees and turned around to see why the clothes were off the baby.  

 

She dropped the cloth and screamed, all she had found was an arm and leg. Both were slowly but steadily disappearing. She  heard the door slam, her mother is finally home. Sandy watches as the baby is ripped from her, angry, but happy it wont have to line in the pit she call a house. Her mother walks into the room, immediately talking about where she went, and then asking how the health project was going, not exactly caring but acting like she did. Sandy says it was fine, dropping the clothes into the trash before she was asked what it was. Her mother says she's going to go nap off her trip and makes her way upstairs. Sandy waits until she hears the sleeping pill bottle shake, then goes to her room, grab the crib, now just cradling more memories, and drags it outside, not caring about the scratches. She takes a hammer to each of the bits that kept the first baby jailed for hours and sometimes days on end before he was freed.  She takes lighter fluid and a match, that’s all she needs. She watches as the crib turns the color of the dolls eyes and then ash. She walks back into the house, onto the couch, and collapses. 

Author's Note

We had to write a flash fiction for my writing class, and I soon realized how bad I was at writing a story under 700 words. And this one isn't really even that good, haha.