GENRE: YA secret
I can’t be sure there is something hiding out here in the backyard, lying silently in wait for my sister and me. But I’m also not sure there isn’t. This terrible feeling of uncertainty burns inside me, striking my bones like flint and sparking dread.
I unclip my pajama bottoms from the line and shake out any squatting spiders, but I freeze mid-shake. The atmosphere closes in around me. A storm. There’s no denying the hum that prickles over my skin, hisses through the trees, and brews the air to a snapping point.
The urge to run inside to the pantry and hide out with the pickle jars overwhelms me, but no, not this time. Enough. The laundry isn’t going to collect itself. Besides, I'm too old to indulge these fears, to run and hide from thunder and rain, imaginary creatures, and faded but potent memories from thirteen years ago.