The Great Baby Migration

A few days ago, my family recieved a strange poster in the mail. It featured an image of a family with a newborn baby. I'm not positive what exactly it was advertising, it mostly just talked about how precious babies are, and I don't think it was selling anything. It didn't include any bright pictures or free coupons, so my mother tossed it into the junkmail pile and neither of my parents gave it a second glance until the next morning, when I discovered it.

It was a Saturday morning and I had recently woken up. After getting a drink of water, I was trudging back to my bedroom when I noticed the poster. Sometime during its delivery to us, the poster had become badly folded so that the family was on one half and the baby on the other. When I came across it, the baby side happened to be facing me.

Upon seeing the image of the baby, my first thoughts were, That is one weird ass baby. And those terms are putting it nicely. The coloring on the picture is dark and everyone's skin has the orange look of a spray-tan. The poster itself gives off a gloomy vibe, and if you didn't read it, it looks more like an advertisement for abortion than the miracle of birth. The baby is especially creepy. It has been rotated in a way that makes it appear to be standing, and it is peering at you from the corners of the pamplet. The worst part is it's eyes. They're pitch black and look as if they are staring straight into the core of your soul, while at the same time they're plotting the slowest and most painful way to rip you apart. I'm positive that if you looked into the eyes of Satan, they would look exactly like that baby's.

I grabbed the poster and strode into my living room, where my parents were seated on the couch chatting about the golf game on TV. I waited until they were finished with their detailed analyzation of Anthony Kim's swing, and then raised the baby so they could see and announced, "This is one creepy baby." My family laughed and agreed and I made some dramatic insights about the baby's eyes and then put it back on the table and returned to my room.
Thoughts of the baby evaporated from our minds until the next morning. Since I am currently sick, I have been sleeping on my futon instead of in my loft. I woke up on my futon this morning and groggily went to the bathroom to pee. I was half asleep and stumbling, and I hadn't yet gained the ability to comprehend things-usually I have to be awake for a few hours before I accumulate that skill. Intent on going back to sleep, or maybe just laying on the futon for hours, I hadn't decided, I fell back onto my makeshift bed and closed my eyes. A few minutes later, I heard a scuttling sound from my doorway. I ignored it. The scuttling continued. Angrily, I looked up, wondering who dared to disturb me from Tramp-sleep-time. There, placed on the steps of my loft, was the babyposter, turned so that the baby's eyes were staring right into my soul.

I had just woken up. My brain wasn't functioning properly. I was disoriented and  confused and could barely keep my eyes open. But I was capable of understanding that this:

was freaking creepy as hell and was almost definitely a demon intent on killing me.
Following my primal instint, I screamed and flailed under my blankets, managing to reach forward and knock the poster to the floor. That was when I heard it, coming from the hallway outside my door.
The familiar sound of my father snickering.
I somehow figured out that my father's laughter was connected to the baby, that he found all of this funny because he had put the baby there. Seething, I flung the covers off me, grabbed the poster and -holding it as far away from me as I could- marched into the living room. "DAD!" I shrieked flinging the poster at his feet. This was followed by me yelling unintelligibly and storming away, while my parents laughed uncontrollably.

Unlike Vamp, who will wake up and fall back asleep countless times during sleepovers, I am the kind of person who cannot fall back to sleep once I have been woken up. Knowing this, I knew it was better to just skip the part where I ineffectively try to go back to bed and instead I got myself a honeybun from the kitchen and settled back into my room for breakfast.
After devouring my pastry, I came to the conclusion that it was a perfect time for me to watch my favorite movie: King Kong. My morning had gotten off to a bad start, and I figured the only thing that could make it better was a rampaging gorilla slaughtering dozens of people. I had watched it the night before, and so I knew the disc was already in the DVD player, so I skipped that and instead bent down and plugged everything in. Finally, I raised my head to turn the player on, and that was when I saw it.
There, sitting atop my DVD player, cobalt eyes gazing into my soul, was The Baby. My breath caught, my eyes bugged wide. My tyranical father must have snuck the thing in while I was retrieving my breakfast.

A similiar scene was repeated, I ran to the living room and yelled and threw it at my dad, who at this point was in hysterics.
I slammed my door shut, and went back to watching King Kong, which has the uncanny power to make me forget about anything else. Once the movie was over and I was again at peace, I decided it was time for a change of scenery and I began to walk towards my door.
And there, slid under the crack of the door, was the baby.


At that point, it was too much.
I needed a better way to rid myself of this baby.
I figured it was faster than burying it, so I chucked the poster down the stairs.
Unfortunately, the only method of disposal that didn't come to mind was throwing the damn thing out, so the scenario I decided on wasn't all that effective either, and the next time, maybe an hour or so later, when I left my room once more, I was greeted by this horrific image:

At this point, it was time for retaliation.
I crept into my father's bedroom when he wasn't looking, and set this up in his bed.

Next time he went to take a nap, my dad would have a satanic cuddle buddy.
Later, once my father had discovered it in his bed, he took the poster and slid it quickly under my door, so that it sped through my room and gave the illusion that it had came in on its own
And so I put the baby here:

In my dad's shower.

He later got back at me by slipping into my bathroom and putting this above my toilet paper dispenser:

This was made much more traumatizing by the fact that I didn't notice it was there watching me until after I had pulled my pants down and done my business and was reaching for some toilet paper.

Bathrooms are a scary place.

A DEMON BABY WATCHED ME PEE!

Okay, so this is where I put the baby afterwards. That is a bag of bird seed, as my father religiously feeds birds every afternoon. The bag is located in my basement, which is full of shadows, spiderwebs, and unidentified sounds. That means that when my father discovered the baby here, it was made slightly extra creepy. I'm sure the demon baby felt quite at home in the eerie atmosphere of my basement.
Anyway, of course this left my father in possesion of the baby, and he plotted his next move through knowledge of my morning schedule.

So, in the morning when I'm doing my hair, that weird picture frame thing is what I face because it is directly across the room from me. I spent a few minutes doing my hair when I looked upon and BAM! GOOD MORNING! Demon baby is there, staring at me.

That left me in possesion of the poster, and I found a way to get back at my dad without letting him get a hold of it. I have skillfully hidden it in a place he will never think to look. I'd share my brilliant spot with you, but for all I know he has spies searching the internet for any answers about the location of the baby. All I can say is it definitely isn't under a pile of sheets in my room.

I swear.

Don't even bother looking. It isnt there.

Anyway, he recently discovered that, and since he doesn't know how to change his wallpaper, I am in complete control of power until I decide on how I shall bring the baby back up in its original form.

Yours demonically,

-Tramp