text: I woke up with a start. Someone was hammering the door to the flat. I looked around wildly - Jimmy and Kevin were up and about. I could see Kevin’s back, facing the door with his arms outstretched. Jimmy was behind him, hunched and making whimpering, sobbing noises. I swung my legs off of the sofa, shaking. I was embarrassed that I’d fallen asleep before the kids I was supposed to be babysitting. And guilty. Was this karma? My limbs still felt dead from sleep, but I forced myself to stand. As I did so, the door hammered again, hard. “Let me in, kids!” I gasped, and my tension melted a little. It was the kids’ mother. She hadn’t called, and hadn’t meant to be back until tomorrow. I took a step to the door. “Don’t!” screamed Kevin, freezing me. I suddenly noticed what he was holding. A silver pistol, far too big for his hands, pointed at the door. It unnerved me how steady his hands were. Beneath that little mop of brown hair was a determined, detached expression. I wondered where he’d got that. Beside him, Jimmy was clearly terrified. He wasn’t quite holding onto Kevin, but he was close behind, and tears were streaming down his cheeks. The door hammered again and their mother’s voice came, sweetly. “Kids!” it came, drawn out questioningly. “Please just open the door.” BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. Why was she hammering? I looked from the door nervously back to Kevin. He didn’t look at me, eyes trained on the door. I didn’t know their mother well, but she’d always been polite. Normal. Nothing to suggest that she was any different. The kids were kids, but as far as kids go some of the most well-behaved I’ve ever met. They’d been happy to occupy themselves with the TV until bedtime. I had just been about to put them to sleep, that must have been when I’d nodded off. As my mind unclouded, harsh sensibility began to regain control. This was completely out of hand. “Give me the gun,” I said to Kevin. I extended my hand and reached towards him. “You don’t understand,” he said. His voice didn’t crack. ‘Isn’t he only ten?’ questioned my tired mind. “That’s not our mom.” I frowned, shushing the little sudden drop in my stomach that felt a little bit like panic. “Kevin,” I said in a slow, measured tone. “That IS your mother.” His voice did crack this time. “It’s NOT!” His eyes moved away from the door, just for a fraction of a second, to mine, and in that second I saw a very scared little boy. Not fear of being reprimanded, not even fear of being belted. It was the kind of fear that kids shouldn’t know about at that age. His eyes flicked back to the door and he rearranged his grip on the gun, shifting his stance and licking his lips. His voice came again in a tiny whisper. “That’s not mom. That’s not mom.” I didn’t know what to do. The hammering came again. I couldn’t believe how strong she was. It sounded almost like it was going to break down. Why was nobody else in the building coming? My mind was breaking down under the possibilities. Something was very wrong. But I was the adult. I couldn’t just go back inside and hide under a blanket, as much as I might have wanted to. ‘There’s a simple way to solve this’, piped up my rational mind. ‘Go look in the peephole’. I looked at it, and then back to Kevin and Jimmy, and voiced my intentions. “I’m going to go and look through the door,” I said quietly. Why was I being so quiet? My rational brain chided me, but I shut it up. Kevin looked like he was trying to say something. He started a word, then trailed off. As I stepped forward to the door, he inched a little closer with me, as though every centimetre were paper-thin ice that might suddenly shatter. The door was only a few feet away, but it felt like no-man’s land. I didn’t want to take those steps, but I did. My heart thudded as I stopped in front of it. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG. The last thundering blow was punctuated, as though they were trying to break THROUGH the door. I’d never noticed before, but it was incredibly study. The chain rattled with every blow. I let out a quiet breath as I stepped up to it. The thudding stopped. I moved the peep hole aside. I screamed. I screamed and I screamed and I screamed. My feet kicked back and I scrambled back across the hallway on all fours, gibbering. Jimmy cried and moved out of my way as I got back behind the line he’d formed. Kevin stepped back in front of us, white as a sheet. “I told you,” he said quietly. The hammering started again. “Let me in! Let me in!” it came, that voice just like their mother’s but different. I hadn’t noticed the subtle different before, but now it terrified me. Had it been their mother, behind that door? Had it been something else? I felt like I was in a dream. A nightmare. It had to be. I held hands with Jimmy, and found myself crying with him. I woke with a start. The lights were out. I was on the sofa, covered in a blanket. Those sweet kids must have covered me after I fell asleep. My breath rattled out of my chest in a sigh of relief. I got my icy feet to the floor, the fresh terror of the dream subsiding, and shakily walked to the lightswitch. The doorbell went. I must have jumped almost through my skin. My heart was racing again. I felt supremely silly. I glanced towards the boys’ bedrooms before walking into the hallway and turning on the light. “Hello?” I called. It was the mother. “It’s just me,” she said. “I got done sooner than expected, so I’m home a little early. Will you take off the chain?” “Yeah,” I said with a smile on my face. I was sure that my cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. Before I took off the chain, I opened the peephole and looked through. It was their mother. Something inside me unclenched, I took a breath, and I took the chain off the door, opening it. She came inside, taking little steps as she made noises of tired relief. “How were the kids?” she asked, “alright?” I thought back to the dream nervously. “They were angels,” I laughed. “I’ve just gotta go to the bathroom, and then if you like you can go home,” said the kids’ mother. “I’ll pay you for tonight, is that okay?” “Sounds great,” I said. She went into the bathroom and I settled down onto the couch, pulling the blanket into a pile on my lap. I made to collect my belongings from the table. I noticed that my phone was blinking and checked the messages. There was one from a minute ago. It read: “Hope the kids are okay. See you tomorrow.” The bathroom door opened.