Written After Reading Too Much Stephen King

Donnie was sitting in the kitchen eating Tofutti and talking softly with Teenie, a little boy who lived in Donnie’s liver. Donnie never knew how Teenie got into his liver. It must have been all that soy milk his mother made him drink because he was lactose intolerant.

Teenie was Donnie’s best and only friend, because all the other kids thought Donnie was weird and were afraid to play with him. Teenie had no choice, being stuck inside his liver. Teenie would often tell Donnie things that nobody would have any way of knowing, which made him useful. Donnie’s parents tolerated Teenie because they figured an imaginary friend was better than no friends at all. Besides, Teenie had given them a stock tip last month that had made them some good money.

Donnie’s father was a technical writer with a permanent case of writer’s block. How he could have writer’s block when he was told what to write about and given all the information he needed was beyond anyone’s understanding. However, he hadn’t written anything in two years. In the meantime, his wife had learned how to write semi-pornographic romance novels, and the family was getting rich on her royalties. They had recently bought an old bed and breakfast inn in a small New England town. They had bought it cheap, because the place had a reputation for being haunted by some old woman who had drowned in a bathtub and a couple of scary little girls. They had moved into it two months ago.

Tonight was Prom Night, and Donnie’s sister Cora was sitting in the living room in her prom dress, waiting for her date, the obnoxious kid up the street who looked like John Travolta. Teenie had predicted to Donnie that this would not be a good night for Cora, but Donnie hadn’t told anybody. He didn’t want to spoil Cora’s big night, just in case Teenie might be wrong, for once.

While waiting for her date to pick her up, Cora, who had telekinetic abilities, amused herself by making the hedge outside move around. Donnie, who was passing through the living room on his way upstairs, saw this and it really gave him the willies. He was hoping it was not an omen of things to come this night, and that the town’s hedges would be safe from his sister.

“Hello, Donnie,” said a twangy male voice. It was Andy, a male nurse who was renting one of the upstairs rooms. He was an avid reader of all of Donnie’s mother’s books, and described himself as her biggest fan. Teenie had warned Donnie to stay away from Andy because he was psycho and he liked to hit people in the feet with a big hammer.

When Donnie arrived upstairs, he noticed that the door to Room 2, which was always locked, was ajar. He had been told not to go into that room, but he couldn’t help himself. Gradually, inch by inch, he pushed the door open and tiptoed through it into the room. He heard splashing noises coming from the bathroom, which was strange because nobody was renting that room. He pushed the bathroom door open.

She was there! In the bathtub! The ghost! A hideous old woman with wrinkled skin and missing teeth! Donnie screamed. The old woman screamed and tried to cover herself while she attempted to pull the shower curtain around the tub. This was not possible because, being dead and a ghost, she didn’t have any hands.

“Hey you, Kid!” she screamed. “Get out of here! Can’t you see I’m taking a bath?”

Donnie ran out of the room and down the hall to his own room. Panting and out of breath, he locked his door behind him, dived into the pillows of his bed and lay there until he stopped trembling.

This was fun, but I think it’s better if I quit while I’m still ahead.

By the way, in case you don’t know, the references in this piece are to:

The Shining (D’oh!)
Carrie
Misery