Berry's Library

Hi Fam.

I don't know how to say this or apologize for keeping you all waiting for the next chapter of HeartBeat, but I've just been under the weather at some point, and mentally stressed.

Heartbeat will continue, I hope you all will stay to read it, It definitely will continue.

Meanwhile, check out my ongoing book on Moboreader. And no, I'm not going to stop posting on that one too. Neither will I abandon Heartbeat or My Super Hero Story as you might think I have.

Also, I'm thinking of starting a little giveaway here someday, to encourage you for your stay here.

What do you think?

🖋️Berry Bee.

❤️❤️𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝐵𝑒𝑎𝑡 💝❤️

𝘉𝘺 𝘉𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺'𝘴 𝘓𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘺

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝!!!

CHAPTER ONE

Babysitting is a very, very tough job. Cleaning up the messes the children make and having to scream out your lungs to the least attentive children then going home at the end of the day stressed with a lot of body aches, which per se, is, unfortunately, the life of a babysitter, say — me. From school, after helping Mom with some house chores, I go babysit Mrs. Quinn's demon children as my part-time job. I call them demons because that's actually the best term to classify them as; they make my life hell.

Now, I'm on my way to their house which is ten blocks from mine. I greet Mrs. Philensky, the lanky old woman watering her flowers as I pass her house and a few other people till I reach their house — more like, mansion. I release a sigh, standing in front of the building, mentally preparing myself for whatever stress I definitely will go through once I pass through their door.

“Aunt Corrie!” Jacob, the youngest of the children yells the moment I step through the door into the house. I frown my brows at the ridiculously oversized batman costume he seems comfortable wearing as he draws closer to hug my legs.

“Corrie, dear,” says Mrs Quinn, coming out from a corner. She seems to be in a hurry as she frantically wears a pair of silver long earrings. Her blonde hair is parked in a ponytail. She is wearing a black shiny dress with a slit at the side and a pair of glittery stilettos.

“I'm so glad you're here now. I was just about to call,” she utters as she approaches me.

“Sure, sure,” I mutter and take up Jacob who restricts my movement with his stiff grip on my legs into my arms.

“Hailey and Fay are upstairs in their room,” she states. “Please make sure they're not up to any mischief or the sort,”

I nod.

She glides across the room and picks up her to match glittery purse on the sofa.

“Also, Kyle will be coming back today,”

Kyle. That name sends weird shivers down my spine. Kyle is her eldest son, aged twenty-three, charming — yes, but if I classified his siblings as demons, he was the devil himself. When I started working for Mrs. Quinn, he would torment me. And when he left for Manchester three months ago for college, I was ecstatic that I would never get to see him again because I had thought I would quit this job before he came back. Guess one can't always get what one hopes for.

“O-okay,” I say.

“I can sense sweat breaking out from the pores on your skin, Aunt Corrie. Are you scared that my big brother's coming back?” Jacob says.

“What? Pfft…no!” I deny. “Why should I be scared of that?”

“I don't know. ” He flicks his gaze to his mom. “Mom, do you know?”

“No, darling. I don't think she's scared of that,” Mrs. Quinn replies.

“Corrie, there are leftover pies in the fridge, please pre-heat them and serve them to the children as dinner because I don't know what time I'll be back,” she says as she draws closer and kisses Jacob's hair. Then she puts a hand on my shoulder and stares into my eyes in all seriousness.

“Take care of them like you always do, okay? I'm counting on you,” Those were words I hear from her almost every day I come here to meet her scrambling off to one meeting or the other, so I just nod. She then bids us goodbye and leaves.

“Put me down,” Jacob demands as soon as the door shuts close.

“Okay,” I drop him to the ground and he runs straight towards the stairs yelling “Kyle's coming back” while I trail behind him. He pushes open Hailey's door with his tiny hands, barging into the room and earning shrill screams.

“Gosh! Can't you knock, Jacob!?” Hailey yells. I pull innocent-looking Jacob out of the room as I observe what had been going on in the room. They had been playing dress up obviously because of the scattered dresses on the bed and the fact that they were just in their un**es. I pull the door to a slight close and peep.

“He's sorry. He just wanted to inform you that your brother is coming back,”

“Ugh! We know! Now get out!” Fay groans. I shut the door completely and stare down at Jacob who has his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at me.

“I don't need your help to handle my sisters,” he states, matter-of-factly and I scoff.

“Trust me, with the way they looked at you when you barged in, they would have thrown a heel at you or something,” I say, walking down the stairs.

“No they won't, you don't know that!” he retorts, following behind.

“And how do you know they won't?” I turn slightly to him.

“Because they are my sisters. And they very much wouldn't like to get grounded by mom when she sees a big bump on my head caused by them,”

“Touché,” I mutter, continuing my journey toward the kitchen.

“I'm not hungry, Corrie,” he says and I huff before turning to him, crossing my arms over my chest.

“So what do you want then?” I ask. He puts a finger on his jaw and stares up at the ceiling as if thinking, then grins.

“Play Martha!”

“What?” I c**k a brow.

“Batman's mom — Martha. I want you to pretend to be Martha while I'm Batman — the dark knight,” he utters the last sentence in the fakest deep voice he could muster.

“If I recall, Jacob, Martha died along with Batman's father before he even thought of becoming Batman,” I speak on my little knowledge of the Dark Knight movie I had watched some months ago.

“Yeah, but this is my sequel. In my Batman story, as Batman, my mom Martha does not die before the start of my superhero life,” he explains. I stare at this seven-year-old boy speaking like an adult as my mouth forms an “oh”.

“So, what storyline does Martha play along to in your story, huh?” I ask. He reaches towards me, grabs my hand, and pulls me towards the sofa seater at the center of the living room(a pull I term as part fail because I let myself be pulled by his little strength).

“Sit,” he says, actually, commands.

“You don't tell me to sit, sans respect, Jacob,” I state and he rolls his eyes. Nothing I'm not used to.

“Fine,” he sighs. “Please sit,”

“Thank you,” I curt nod and sit, then await his genius batman sequel.

“So, first off, I think you need a dark wig,” he says.

“Why?” I ask with a perplexed chuckle.

“Martha's not blonde,” he declares.

“So? It's your sequel so she can be blonde because there is no way I'm wearing a wig. Take it or leave it, Jay,”

He frowns. He doesn't like me calling him Jay because, as he had said before, it made him feel like a baby.

“Don't call me Jay again, Curry,” he fires and I stare unbelievably at this boy.

“It's not Curry, Jay,” I fire back.

“Right, Curry,” he smirks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Fine. Play Batman and Martha yourself, I'm done!” I declare, standing from the sofa.

“No you're not!” he says, attempting to block my way with his three feet figure.

“You're the one that started it by calling me Jay,” he says the name with spite.

“And you proceeded to call me Curry,” I say.

“It's called a hit back! Someone calls you by a name you dislike, you do the same to them,”

“Right,” I throw my head back, looking anywhere but at him. Hit back my foot!

“Fine.” he huffs. “If you don't want to play, I'll call mom and tell her how much of a terrible babysitter you are and that you made me cry,”

I scoff. He's threatening me now?

“You will do no such thing,” I say. He glares at me and walks towards the kitchen where the house landline is.

“Jacob,” I call, but he doesn't turn. Instead, he increases his pace.

“Jacob, hey. Don't call your mom. We both know I'm not a terrible babysitter,” I tell him, scurrying after him.

“You are,” he says, picking up the telephone. He is about to punch one of the digits when I fiercely jerk the phone, but he doesn't let it go.

“Give it back!” he yells, dragging it.

“No, let go!” I yell back.

“You're gonna cut it! You let go!”

“Wow! Such a scene to come home to.” That deep familiar manly voice cuts through the air, making me seize my breath.

He's back!

“Big bro!” Jacob screeches, letting go of the phone. He sprints past me and I turn to see a smug smiling, drop-dead gorgeous Kyle standing halfway into the living room with Jacob running over to hug him. His blonde hair is still as I remember it — long and curly. He is wearing a turquoise-colored turtle-necked shirt and ripped faded jeans. There is also a black travel bag with him. When did he enter that I did not sense it?

“You're back!” Jacob beams as he jumps into Kyle's arms.

“I am, big boy,” Kyle ruffles his hair, then squints his eyes at the bougus cloth he's wearing.

“What are you wearing, Jacob?” he asks. He has that wondering thought in his eyes on how Jacob was comfortable in the costume like I had moments earlier.

“My batman costume! Like it!?” Jacob grins. Kyle mirrors his grin.

“I love it.” he tells him. But I know that he finds it rather ridiculous. His eyes gives most of that away.

After some seconds of their brotherly grinning moment, Kyle turns his gaze to me.

“Corrie Hemmington. Fancy meeting you here, practically dragging a phone with little Jacob,” he states with a knowing glint in his eyes that makes me uncomfortable.

“Welcome—”

“Kyle, Curry was being a bad babysitter. She didn't want to play with me. I feel so sad now,” Jacob interrupts me, fake sobbing and rubbing his eyes repeatedly and that makes me just want to grow a bump on his head.

“Oh really?” Kyle c**ks his brows at me in a sort of mocking way.

“He's lying!” I defend myself.

“Why were you dragging the phone with me then?” Jacob pipes up. “If you were a good babysitter, you wouldn't even be the least pricked when I threatened to call mom,”

I stare at him in disbelief. I admit I should not have tussled for the phone with him, but it was purely Instinctive because I am so not a bad babysitter.

“Cat got your tongue, Curry?”

If this boy calls me Curry one more time, I will definitely grow a bump on his head.

I glare at him and Kyle speaks.

“Curry, nice nickname,” he addresses, his signature smirk gracing his lips. I am about to protest, but different girly squeals tear through the air, stopping me.

“Kubby!” Fay yells the moment Hailey says “You're here!” from up the stairs and I chuckle under my breath. Talk about a nice nickname. They run down towards him and engulf him in a hug I'm sure is tight, then break the hug.

“We're glad you're back, Kubby. It's been so long,” Fay says, ginning.

“I'm glad to see you two too. Look how big you've all grown!” Kyle replies, mimicking Fay's grin. I'm pretty sure they forgot I'm here. Fay giggles and so does Hailey. I use this opportunity to move unnoticed to the kitchen and preheat the food in the fridge Mrs. Quinn asked me to for their dinner. I can still hear their welcome, welcome biddings till he tells them he had gifts for them in his car trunk and they gleefully exit the house, leaving a buzzing oven, Kyle, and me.

Okay guys, I'm sorry. I told you I wasn't gonna keep the page idle, but I did. I'm really sorry. Thing is, My Superhero Story can't continue. I know, I'm really sorry, but there are some plot holes there I really need to fix. So for the meantime, it won't continue.

Also I've been really busy that's why I haven't posted.

And please, if there are any writers here, please send your story to my DM. I can't really assure you all that I'll be consistent.

Take care, y'all.