wavered like the flames of a fire. Eyes stared out the window at her, glowing with the light.
An old black and white car was headed straight toward her as if the driver did not see her in the way. She screamed and put her hands up as if that would stop it.
Then suddenly she was in the kitchen. Grandmother towered over her, frowning and shaking a finger at her. Little Miranda looked down at the figurines she held in her hand and the rosy cheeked cat she’d been playing with turned into a twisted, fire-blackened being with leering face and a black cape flapping like wings. It writhed in rhythm to a tinny tune that sounded like it came from the steel-comb teeth of a music box drum that had warped. Miranda dropped the statue, screaming, and could finally hear her grandmother’s words.
“If you’re not careful, Miranda, the things you do in life will come back to haunt you.”
Miranda screamed and woke up, but the dream words still rang in her ears, as did the last few notes of the eerie music. Rufus stood close to her, shivering and whimpering as if he, too, had had a nightmare. Or perhaps he was simply feeding off of her fear. Miranda held her breath and listened. The only sounds now were the normal house sounds she’d already begun to recognize: the shift of logs in the dying fire, the branch scraping against the kitchen window, the rush of air whistling through a loose doorframe.
“It was only a dream.” She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Rufus or herself. She did know that it would be impossible to get to sleep right away. Not until she once again checked the doors and windows.
As she swung her legs to the floor and sat up, her head spun and her stomach gave a lurch. She paused, waiting for the feeling to subside. When she finally rose to her feet, she still felt weak, but not as strange as she had before.
Gun in hand, she made the rounds, finally stopping in the kitchen where she hesitated before edging the curtain away from the window. Dawn light spread fingers across the driveway. She took a deep breath as relief poured through her. She had made it through the night.
That was when she realized the light on the porch appeared to be lit. She stepped outside to confirm that the bulb she’d placed in the empty socket was indeed live. As she did so, the motion-sensitive light on the pole over the garage went on.
“Yay!” Miranda clapped her hands and gave a small hop. All was well again. No more boogey men or night terrors would be visiting her. The electricity had been switched on sometime while she slept.
Rufus barked and ran around her. Suddenly he ran to the edge of the porch and growled. The ruff of his neck stood straight up. Miranda turned to see what was disturbing him.
Far back at the line of timber behind the barn, the German Shepherd she’d seen before was running toward the trees. This time, however, the dog was not alone. This time, a man ran alongside the canine: tall, thin, dark haired. Wearing a brown jacket. A leather one, maybe? Just before the two reached the woods, they turned. The man was only a profile against the dawn-rimmed horizon, but it seemed like he was looking right at her. A moment later, both figures were gone. Miranda was left alone on the porch, gripping the door jamb with whitened fingers.
The whole scene was eerily reminiscent of the incident at the grocery store the day before. The man in the field had been about the same height as the one who watched her through the grocery store window. She even thought—maybe she was just fooling herself—that the man in town had been wearing a brown leather jacket.
Miranda hurried inside and locked the door, leaning against it as if that provided extra security. Every nerve felt on edge, every sense heightened.
The branch scraping the window sounded more like fingernails than ever before. A subtle whoosh! made her jump until she realized it was the sound of the furnace kicking in. Warm air blew against her bare feet
An old black and white car was headed straight toward her as if the driver did not see her in the way. She screamed and put her hands up as if that would stop it.
Then suddenly she was in the kitchen. Grandmother towered over her, frowning and shaking a finger at her. Little Miranda looked down at the figurines she held in her hand and the rosy cheeked cat she’d been playing with turned into a twisted, fire-blackened being with leering face and a black cape flapping like wings. It writhed in rhythm to a tinny tune that sounded like it came from the steel-comb teeth of a music box drum that had warped. Miranda dropped the statue, screaming, and could finally hear her grandmother’s words.
“If you’re not careful, Miranda, the things you do in life will come back to haunt you.”
Miranda screamed and woke up, but the dream words still rang in her ears, as did the last few notes of the eerie music. Rufus stood close to her, shivering and whimpering as if he, too, had had a nightmare. Or perhaps he was simply feeding off of her fear. Miranda held her breath and listened. The only sounds now were the normal house sounds she’d already begun to recognize: the shift of logs in the dying fire, the branch scraping against the kitchen window, the rush of air whistling through a loose doorframe.
“It was only a dream.” She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Rufus or herself. She did know that it would be impossible to get to sleep right away. Not until she once again checked the doors and windows.
As she swung her legs to the floor and sat up, her head spun and her stomach gave a lurch. She paused, waiting for the feeling to subside. When she finally rose to her feet, she still felt weak, but not as strange as she had before.
Gun in hand, she made the rounds, finally stopping in the kitchen where she hesitated before edging the curtain away from the window. Dawn light spread fingers across the driveway. She took a deep breath as relief poured through her. She had made it through the night.
That was when she realized the light on the porch appeared to be lit. She stepped outside to confirm that the bulb she’d placed in the empty socket was indeed live. As she did so, the motion-sensitive light on the pole over the garage went on.
“Yay!” Miranda clapped her hands and gave a small hop. All was well again. No more boogey men or night terrors would be visiting her. The electricity had been switched on sometime while she slept.
Rufus barked and ran around her. Suddenly he ran to the edge of the porch and growled. The ruff of his neck stood straight up. Miranda turned to see what was disturbing him.
Far back at the line of timber behind the barn, the German Shepherd she’d seen before was running toward the trees. This time, however, the dog was not alone. This time, a man ran alongside the canine: tall, thin, dark haired. Wearing a brown jacket. A leather one, maybe? Just before the two reached the woods, they turned. The man was only a profile against the dawn-rimmed horizon, but it seemed like he was looking right at her. A moment later, both figures were gone. Miranda was left alone on the porch, gripping the door jamb with whitened fingers.
The whole scene was eerily reminiscent of the incident at the grocery store the day before. The man in the field had been about the same height as the one who watched her through the grocery store window. She even thought—maybe she was just fooling herself—that the man in town had been wearing a brown leather jacket.
Miranda hurried inside and locked the door, leaning against it as if that provided extra security. Every nerve felt on edge, every sense heightened.
The branch scraping the window sounded more like fingernails than ever before. A subtle whoosh! made her jump until she realized it was the sound of the furnace kicking in. Warm air blew against her bare feet
Similar Books
