CHAPTER# 6 by Sunni Yuen ******************* "Neurotica! Great to see you!" Dylexia greeted a teenage girl with fizzy purple hair knotted on top of her head. Her name suited her. She looked neurotic thought Mitch. Neurotica whistled " Looking good, Dye" Dye ? That was probably Dylexia's nickname. " Thanks, help yourself. The servant will see to your needs" Dylexia indicated Mitch. Neurotica grinned," And I thought that babysitting was all diapers and work! We can go into joint business someday, huh? But you still would have made a great cook." "Well I am better at cooking than Salmonella but babysitting is SO fun! It's just knowing how to manage kids" Neurotica leaned over after she took off her jacket. " This is real leather kid." her fingers running up and down it. " Real leather. And when I come back and if I find out that you didn't take good care of my jacket, Dylexia will take care of you." her voice was dangerously soft. Mitch swallowed. " Where do I hang this?" he asked Dylexia timidly. " In the closet" her attention returned to Neurotica. The hour wore on while guests steamed in. Most of them had really weird names such as : - Debtor , Keroscenic, Euphoria, Clime & Tariantulay.............. But they were all pretty much like Dylexia-wild. Soon the party was in full swing. The stereo blasted out loud music which hurt one's eardrums when standing close to it. None of the songs were familiar. The stuff teenagers listened to these days, the music ranged from rock and roll to slow dancing and popular hit songs. Teens screamed and sang along with the songs. Teens danced. Teens ate near the kitchen and refreshment table. Every once in a while, a guest would yell out to Dylexia to compliment her on the food. Mitch himself was able to sneak little tidbits when nobody noticed, while Dylexia was busy on the dance floor. Teens smoked on the patio. Teens swore and talked to each other. But most of all, teens pushed and ordered Mitch around! They would grab him by his hair and tell him what they wanted. Afterwards, it was obvious that someone was always going to tease or abuse him. Almost constantly, he heard someone call "Hey kid", or "Get your butt here right now, Mitchie". Although the area of the Willow's property was just about filled with Dylexia's friends, more kept arriving. Some that Dylexia didn't even know came! "Come, join us!" she would call. Finally, the doorbell got a break for an hour , since most of the guests had already arrived. Poor Mitch slaved about. By then, he understood the meaning of child labour. Never again would he complain about chores. Bad times passed ever so slowly. 'Ding-dong!' Dylexia strode eagerly to the door, "Hi! Make your-", she stopped in mid-sentence when she saw who it was. Then, she put on the nicest smile, "Oh, hello, Mrs. Nowlan. How are you this fine day? Have you come to join Mitch's fun-for-all party?" Mitch opened his mouth to protest, but Dylexia shot him a warning glance. If only old Mrs.Nowlan with her everlasting wrinkles and cotton white hair knew the truth. She was close to guessing it though. You could just read the puzzlement on her face. " I'm not too fine, thank you. I wouldn't even dream of attending the party. Anyway, aren't those friends a bit too mature, older and wild for Mitch?", she eyed Dylexia suspiciously. Then in a business tone, "I've come to complain about the noise. I'm having trouble hearing my own voice! I suggest you turn down the volume immediately". "Of course!" Dylexia relayed the message to her friends to turn the volume down a notch. Mrs. Nowlan sniffed disapprovingly at her. Then, to Mitch, she said "I was also wondering if you'd like to come over right now and play with Robert, my grandson ? "She smiled kindly at him. "Oh, yes! I'd like to very much." He tried to send the message--'please help me escape from Dylexia!' with his eyes. Mrs.Nowlan understood that look, "Of course, I need your baby-sitter's permission first". "I'm afraid Mitch can't leave his party. Perhaps another day. Good-bye , Mrs. Nowlan", Dylexia gushed and then shut the door. She tweaked his ear and said," Don't even think of running away! I'll be watching you". "What did that old bag want with you?", demanded Euphoria as she inhaled a fancy cigarette. Dylexia started to imitate the old woman. Mitch's face flamed. Old bag indeed! Mrs. Nowlan happened to be one of the nicest people ever! Mrs.Nowlan had glimpsed the true nature of Dylexia, but she had no concrete evidence to prove who Dylexia really was. It was obvious that Dylexia wanted to please her friends. For a couple moments, she disappeared and then returned with his father's best most expensive champagne. What? His father hadn't even dared to open that bottle least he waste a drop of the precious liquid. Mitch heard the glass of punch shatter to the floor from his hand. "Leave that!" barked Dylexia," and fetch us some wine cups", as Mitch bent down to clean up the mess. He heard Dylexia's friends hoot while she triumphantly popped the cork and poured the wine into the cups. "To the best party ever!", she yelled. They cheered. "To babysitting!" shouted Neurotica. "To cooking!", screamed Debtor. "And to Dylexia!", the crowd all had a toast. Dylexia refilled her glass two more times, and dizzily staggered to the dance floor, just as a hit song came on. The teens cleared way on the floor so that Dylexia and Clime could dance. On the sides of the room, teen's started clapping, stamping their feet to the beat as well as chanting. "Dylexy, dylexy. You're so sexy, so sexy! " Dylexia merely grinned and did a revolting dance. Mitch squeezed his eyes shut tight. How I wish that my parents were here! Then, they would know the hidden side of Dylexia, he thought! The alcohol was really taking effect on everybody--especially Dylexia. A foodfight started. Pieces of pizza flew across the room. Splat! Gloops of ketchup ran down the walls. More and more puffs of second hand smoke drafted through the house. Somebody stuffed Jell-O down his shirt. All of a sudden, rather abruptly, the foodfight stopped. All the teenagers started to push and jump at each other. Some even flickered on lighters, held them high in the air and waved them around. 'Mosh' was what they termed it. Dylexia and a few of her friends scaled up onto some high furniture grabbed the microphones and sang along with the CD, while doing a series of movements to music. Is that how teens danced? Or called dance? wondered Mitch, staring at Dylexia's embarrassing movements as she crooned "I've heard it already". Everybody was out of control and wild. Mitch kept getting pushed from side to side! He could hardly breathe! Next all the lighters disappeared back into the pockets of their owners. Everybody waved their hands up in the air hoping to catch Dylexia when she jumped. They tossed her into the air over and over again like a ball. She rotated positions while singing in the air. Her skirt flared up and down as well. Finally, she was put down. She scanned the room for Mitch and found him. "Let's play some games!" she said slyly. Mitch tried to hide, but Dylexia and her friends caught him roughly. There was no escape. She screamed and drew out the long slender whip. Mitch's eyes widened, he was enveloped by the reek of cigarettes, stagnant air and stale alcohol. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead as he felt himself being jerked back up on his feet and the biting pain of the whip. Lash after lash as Dylexia's crazy friends took turns. All he heard was his own weak voice crying for help and the muffled laughter of the mad teens. This was far worser than all of his nightmares of Dylexia combined. "Oh Dylexia, this is the best party you've held so far." Keroscenic complimented her. Then, the dancing resumed again. So did 'moshing'. But this time, Mitch was thrown into the air from one person to another. The hours ran by and Mitch spent them being harassed by Dylexia and her friends. It became a game for one teen to torture him quickly and then toss him to another who would try to do something even worser to him and etc. etc. , while they all kept dancing to the deafening music, which blocked out Mitch's pleads for help. Several times, Mitch thought that he heard the doorbell ring but the noise level was so high that nobody else seemed to hear it. Finally, Mitch ended up with Dylexia who enjoyed squeezing, pinching, slapping and playing with his face when the door clicked and opened and there stood his parents. "MY WINE ! " yelled Mr. Willow. "MY HOUSE !" screamed Mrs. Willow. "MY BOY!", Mr. Willow ran to rescue Mitch. "My baby-sitter!", sobbed Mitch. Now Dylexia was drunk but not stupid. She seemed to have forgotten that his parents had solid evidence of her torturing Mitch. She simply gave a big drunken goofy smile and said with slurred words, rather sleepily, "I'm just so sweet and innocent!", before she collapsed onto the floor, a look of innocence on her face. * * * * * * * * * * * THE END * * * * * * * * * *