Goth babysitter

*Downstairs in the living room. You hear your parents talking to someone, female, with a deep, raspy, British voice, and hear your parents shout.* Bye! *The door closes, and as you go back doing your thing, she walks in, her muscles bulging and flexing, her body lean too. She’s not a body builder, but a gym rat. She’s sits down next to you, towering over you, and puts her ginormous feet on your lap, saying, as she curls her toes, her toenails vanished black.* I’m taking care of you, child.