Her mom forgot to warn the new babysitter about the basement.
Pia stood at the top step, her little hands reaching up to clutch the railings, her arms and legs shaking, her breath puffed up.
''Pia?'' The teenager's voice drifted up from the basement. ''Your mom said the Coke is in the fridge downstairs, but I can't find it. Can you come down and help me?''
Mom said that she'd told the babysitter about the basement, Pia was sure of it. She closed her eyes and thought hard.
Before they left for the party, she'd been playing in the TV room. She had asked her. ''Did you tell her about the basement?''
''I most certainly did. No basements for Miss Pia. That door stays closed.''
When dad came around the corner, mom said. ''We really need to think about moving, Arnab.''
''Next year, I promise.'' He ran a hand through her hair. ''Be good for the teenager, kiddo.''
And then, they were gone.
''Pia, I know you can hear me.'' The girl yelled.
''I c-can't go in the basement.'' She called. ''I-I'm not allowed.''
''Well, I'm in charge and I say you are. You're a big girl.''
Pia made her feet move down one step. The back of her throat hurt, it felt like she was going to cry.
''Pia, you have five seconds or I'll drag you down here and lock the door.''
She raced down the steps so fast that she skipped a stair and tumbled right on the last step. Her ankle throbbed, tears burned her eyes as she looked around in the basement, with it's creaks and smells and shadows. And Mrs. Sharma.
There had been others before Mrs. Sharma scared them away. Like old Mrs. Mathur, who'd play peek-a-boo with Pia, and Mr. Singhania, who'd ask weird questions, like whether anyone lived on the moon yet, and most times Pia didn't know the answer, but he'd still smile and tell her she was a good girl.
She used to like coming downstairs and talking to the people. All she had to do was not look behind the furnace, where a man hung from the ceiling, his face all purple and puffy. He never said anything, but seeing him always made Pia's tummy hurt.
''Pia?'' The girl's muffled voice called. ''Are you coming?''
The basement was dark, just the night lights were on, the ones Mom had put everywhere when Pia started saying she didn't want to go downstairs and Mom thought she was afraid of the dark.
Pia could see the cold cellar door, though. She kept her eyes on that and walked as fast she could. When something moved, she forgot about not looking, but it was only the hanging man, and all she could see was his hand peeking from behind the furnace.
''Pia?'' The girl called from the darkness. ''You aren't afraid of the dark, are you? Aw, such a cute five year old baby.''
Pia scowled. The girl didn't know anything. She would get her Coke, run upstairs, and this girl would never ever baby-sit her again.
She tried to remember where the fridge was. She felt around for it until her fingers ran into metal, she opened the door and stood on her tiptoes. Her fingers closed around the metal can when a voice yelled behind her.
''Pia.''
Pia dropped the can. It hit the floor with a crack and rolled against her foot, soda pooling around her slippers. She turned around slowly.
In the doorway, stood an old woman in a pink housecoat, her eyes and teeth glittering in the dark. Mrs. Sharma.
She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, but she couldn't even move a muscle.
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