Friday, August 18, 2006
New Beginning 81
The knock came at dusk. Olivia had just settled into her favorite chair, the one she'd patched with duct tape colored with markers to match the worn green leather. Her dinner, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, balanced precariously on the arm of the chair; a book was cradled in her bare legs.
The knock was sharp, rattling the old, warped glass in the front door. She knew without looking who it was. They had come without their lights on, knowing that she would run. They had been right.
The book slid from her lap, the sandwich flipped onto the floor. Olivia was halfway up the stairs before the second knock came. She'd been preparing for this for almost six months, since that horrible day in Portland. Her fifteenth birthday had been far from happy.
It had started with the clown. Stan the Clown. Olivia had shoved cake in his face and cursed out her parents because HELLO! She was fifteen years old, not five. She should've had a cool band for her party.
The clown had not taken it well. As he'd wiped icing from his face, he'd sworn vengeance.
And now . . . the clownmobile was outside.
Continuation: Vampire Librarian