The Babysitter and the Man Upstairs

Jillian was sixteen years old and had been babysitting for the Carters for almost a year. They were a nice couple who lived in a large, old Victorian house on Maple Street, and they always paid well. Tonight they were going to a charity dinner downtown and would not be home until well after midnight. The children, Emma who was seven and Lucas who was four, were already asleep upstairs by the time the phone rang the first time.

Jillian was in the living room watching television when the call came. She picked up the phone and heard a mans voice, low and raspy. Have you checked the children? Jillian frowned. Who is this? she asked. But the line went dead. She shrugged it off as a prank call and went back to her show.

Fifteen minutes later, the phone rang again. Have you checked the children? The voice was the same, but this time it sounded closer, more insistent. Look, this is not funny, Jillian said, her heart starting to beat a little faster. Stop calling here. Again, the line went dead.

Jillian got up and checked all the doors and windows. Everything was locked. She went upstairs and peeked in on Emma and Lucas. Both were sleeping peacefully in their beds. She went back downstairs and tried to focus on the television, but her mind kept drifting back to the calls.

The phone rang a third time. This time the voice was different. It was slower, more deliberate, and it sent a chill down her spine. Why havent you checked the children? I am getting closer. Jillian slammed the phone down and dialed the operator. Can you trace the last call? she asked, her voice shaking. The operator told her to hang up and they would call her back.

A few minutes later the operator called back, and her voice was urgent. Jillian, you need to get out of that house right now. The calls are coming from inside the house. Get out now and call the police from a neighbors home.

Jillian dropped the phone. She could hear footsteps now, slow and heavy, coming from the upstairs hallway. She ran to the front door, fumbled with the lock, and burst out into the cold night air. She ran to the Thompsons house next door and called 911.

The police arrived within minutes. They entered the house with drawn weapons and went upstairs. In the second-floor hallway, they found a man hiding in the guest bedroom closet. He was holding a large kitchen knife and had been watching Jillian through the gap in the closet door. The children, mercifully, had slept through the entire ordeal.

The man was later identified as a transient who had entered the house through an unlocked second-floor window before the Carters had left for the evening. He had been hiding in the house the entire time, making calls from the extension phone in the master bedroom. The police said that if Jillian had gone upstairs to check on the children one more time, she would have walked right past the room where he was hiding. The story spread through the town like wildfire, and for years afterward, babysitters in the area double-checked every window and door before settling in for the night.