the quilt. The moment that I had driven those four thumbtacks through its corners, I had heard the quilt scream.
The next night Mom and Dad had a fight. Dad was doing his taxes and had papers spread across every table in the house. He always got irritable around tax time, but this year was worse than any other, because he had been out of work for so long.
He and Mom argued that night about money. They argued about how hard Dad was looking for work, and they argued that Mom didn’t get paid enough. They also argued over the fact that they were arguing. Finally I heard my name mentioned, and I stood at the edge of my doorway looking out into the living room, listening to what they were saying.
“We can’t have both,” said my dad. “It’s got to be one or the other.”
“We can’t just take it away from her,” said my mom. “She’s wanted one for so long.”
“Well, then, what are we going to do?” asked my dad in frustration. “Let the twins run around in the street after kindergarten?”
I knew what they were talking about. My piano. Ever since I was ten, they’d promised me I could have one, and just one month ago I finally got it. Now they were talking about selling it to pay for the twins’ day care.
I didn’t want to stand there and listen to their decision. I knew what it would be. The twins always got what they wanted. They were always taken care of first. And as for me, well, I would just have to share in Mom and Dad’s money misery, because misery loves company, right?
Then Mom and Dad began to whisper so quietly that I couldn’t hear, and I heard them coming into my room. I jumped onto my bed and pretended to read.
Mom, I could tell, almost had tears in her eyes. Dad looked pale and tired. This is all the twins’ fault , I thought. Dad had lost his last job because he had to spend so much time at home when they had the chicken pox.
“Your father and I are going out,” Mom said. “You’ll watch the twins for us, okay?” She didn’t so much ask me as tell me.
You must be desperate if you’re asking me , is what I wanted to say. They never trusted me alone with the twins, because they said I was too mean to them, and they’re probably right.
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll watch them.”
As soon as the twins heard that they were being left with me, they began to whine.
“No!” Timmy yelled. “Marybeth will play tricks on us!”
“She’ll play scary games,” Maddie cried. “She’ll make us cry. Marybeth hates us.”
“Don’t be silly,” Mom said. “Marybeth’s your sister. She loves you.” And with that, she and Dad left.
Now, I wouldn’t say I’m the nicest person in the world, but I would never call myself evil. At least not until that night. I’m not sure what came over me, but as soon as Mom and Dad left, I turned to the twins with a big smile that was not meant to comfort them.
“All right, you two,” I said. “Would you like to play a game?”
They looked at me with wide eyes that were getting wider by the second. “What kind of game?” they asked in unison.
“The monster game,” I replied.
“No!” they cried. “We hate the monster game! We hate it!”
“Well, tough,” I told them. “That’s the game I want to play.” Immediately the twins ran into the living room and ducked under the coffee table, as if hiding there would keep them safe.
“Please, Marybeth,” Timmy whimpered. “Please don’t scare us!”
I dug through my closet until I found this wonderfully hideous rubber Halloween mask. Then I put it over my face and stomped out into the living room.
“ Grrrrrrowl! ” I roared, shoving my monster face under the coffee table. The twins ran screaming into our parents’ room, and I stomped after them.
“I’m the monster that eats bad little boys and girls!” I growled, finding them in Mom and Dad’s bed, hiding their faces with pillows.
“ Grrrrrrowl! ” I roared again. They screamed, leaped out of the bed, and ran. I
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