I went dead cold, remembering the program, remembering the nightmare. I was terrified by the statue and vowed to not look at it again, praying the girls would not wake up while their parents were gone so I didn’t have to go past it again.
I returned to the living room and could not stop thinking about the statue and the peeping Tom. The television program could not keep my interest, so I decided to try to go to sleep. I reclined on the sofa and looked at the ceiling, where a chandelier hung.
As I stared at the chandelier it began swaying, very gently, but very definitely. I had never been more terrified in my life.
The next thing I remember was the parents coming in the door, several hours after I’d checked on the girls.
I think I might have passed out from fear. Needless to say, I never babysat there again.