theory33

Years passed quickly as they tend to do when no one is watching. Ana had become a round faced, awkward little cherub child who's head was slightly too big for her body, so that she managed to tumble over her own feet quiet often. A lopsided halo of mousy brown hair seemed to stick up at odd angles all the time. Mischief followed the child. Or rather, she followed it. Far to clever for her own good, she seemed intent on testing everything she came across. This particular morning, she'd decided to switch her plastic eggs for the oh-so-interesting ones located in the refrigerator. The plan was solid. She'd simply place her own in the box and the special ones into the blue box she carried tucked tightly under one tiny arm.

The worn-shiny linoleum floor stretched out, vast and daunting. Glancing around the arm of the couch, Ana tiptoed forward. Emboldened by the lack of audience, she darted across the room on sure, fat little feet that slapped against the smooth floor. "Aha ha. Hee." Short little fingers clamped tightly together as her face broke into an excited grin, the sound she made an echo of the expression. Victory was so close.

It seemed simple enough. With surgical precision, she extracted the white shelled eggs one by one, replacing them with the slightly yellowed plastic doppelgangers, the tip of her tongue trapped between her teeth in concentration. The seams around the edges had been worn smooth by hours of handling so within the confines of the refrigerator the disguise was nearly perfect. She only had six plastic ones, so once her carton was full the child carefully closed the lid on both boxes and the door to the fridge. However, the temptation to examine the new version of her old toy was overwhelming. Carefully balancing the blue plastic box against her round little stomach, Ana popped the latch and extracted one egg. Turning it over in her hand, she couldn't figure out how it was so smooth. There were tiny little grooves all over its surface. It was fascinating.

Something moved in the corner of her vision and her head jerked around hard. At first she'd thought it was her mother but it was a dark shape. The furtive movement set the little girl's heart to pounding far too hard, although there was nothing at all in the brightly lit kitchen. She saw those a lot and they made her nervous. Quickly trying to replace the egg into her carton and give into the sudden desire to be as far away from there as possible, the tiny oval slipped from her fingers and exploded on the floor. The now freed hand flew to her lips, stifling the OH! of surprise.

Everything forgotten, she knelt quickly to examine it closer. How did they get so much stuff inside? The clear white goo was seeping out into a puddle. Ana poked the yellow bubble in the middle. Did they all have that hiding within? And how come her eggs did not? Two more of the stolen goodies quickly followed suit, as her tiny finger poked through one and the other was smashed under a bare foot, the contents squishing between her chubby toes. "Ewwwww."

The screen door at the back of the house slammed shut, bouncing once with a resounding smack of spring loaded wood on wood. A horrified gasp escaped her lips as her mind blanked once more. This was not the plan. She had intended to be long gone with her purloined prizes before anyone had seen her. Now, they lay in a slimy heap at her feet on the linoleum. This was not good. Abdondoning all hope of saving the eggs, Ana ducked behind the first thing she could see that would hide her - the trash can. Curling into a tight ball and willing herself invisible, she held her breath as the footsteps got closer. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no. The mantra repeated through her head, tiny pursed lips mouthing the words silently. Daring to peek, one of her eyes slowly opened. The dark figure she'd noticed scuttling around as she examined the eggs was back and it was behind the trash can with her.

There was no time to make any sound. No shape to recongnize, either, just a lack of light or a thickness of shadow that separated from everything around it and yet cast none of its own. Terror gripped the child, worse now than when the footsteps had gotten closer. She was rooted in place. Slowly, what would be considered a hand if shadows had them, rose and made a gripping motion in the air and Ana could no longer breathe. A sick, twisted hiss of breath escaped the creature as its eyes began to burn.

In the kitchen, her mother had discovered her mess and was furious. "ANA!" The angry voice rang out as the sounds of drawers opening and salt hitting the floor seemed inordinately loud in the stillness. "Ana you come back here this instant and explain yourself, young lady!"

Tears streamed down the little girl's face, unable to alert her mother to what was happening. A cold so intense it burned her skin tightened around her throat. It felt as if her whole body was frozen, trapped by fear and this strange shadow beast. If she could just .... wildly, her left arm flung out and knocked the trashcan over. It thumped against the floor, spilling its contents and sliding forward a few inches. The shadow creature hissed angrily and vanished behind the refrigerator as her mother came into view. Ana was crying hard now, gasping for air and pulling at her clothes, trying to rid herself of the feel of terror.

"Young lady, what do you think you are doing?" Oblivious to what her daughter had just witnessed, Kathleen Benson crossed her arms over her chest and glared down at the huddled girl. "What am I going to do with you? Spank you?"

"No, momma please." She looked up, finding her mother's eyes with her own, her face ashen. Instinctively, she knew it would do no good to tell her mother about what had happened. "Just scream at me."

Mistaking the child's reaction for fear of the aforementioned spanking, Kat's heart melted and she pulled the little girl close with a soft shuckle. "Ok, ok. But, you are in big trouble Ana. Big trouble."

Clinging to her mother, Ana thought it didn't matter. No kind of trouble her mother could dish out would be as bad as what was behind the refrigerator.

*

That night, a fever developed. Ana lay sweating in her bed, pale little body twitching from cold, eyes sunken deep into her too large face. Her mother had left her while she slept, but now it seemed as though the fever was not going to break. It kept getting hotter. The second hand finally came around and Kathleen reached for the thermometer to check the reading. A low whistle escaped her lips. "A hundred and four, almost four and a half." She looked up at her friend Sonya, a cousin and constant companion throughout most of Kat's life.

"Should we take her to the hospital?"