“Hi, you’ve reached the voice mail of Carolyn Wilkowski. Leave me a message, and I’ll call you back!” Her voice sounded cheerful and chipper, quite different from how it had sounded on the message she left me.
“Darn,” I muttered, and waited for the beep. Continue reading
I woke up in a cold sweat at three in the morning, fighting with my blankets. I was hyperventilating and shivering, and the shadows in my bedroom, cast by the streetlight shining in through the blinds on my window, looked sinister and threatening. Apparently my subconscious was not a fan of being shot at, and had decided to let me know by giving me bad dreams about shadowy attackers.
I reached to my nightstand and turned on the light. I was alone, of course. The room looked a lot less scary with the lights on. I took a deep breath, and tried to relax. Continue reading
I was still sitting on the curb when the cops showed up. Or rather, when they drove past. The police car flew through the intersection at the end of my street, lights flashing and siren wailing. And kept going.
I blinked. The sirens faded into the distance again, clearly headed somewhere else. Continue reading
The gun went off with a bang, and I flinched. Well, obviously.
I also kind of expected to die. Or at least hurt a lot.
I didn’t. Continue reading