Suspicious

 This is a story I wrote for a Twitter KidLit competition. We spin for a word. Mine was suspicious. We only had 125 for the story. 

The old woman was always on her porch at this time in the morning. Before the sun had started to stretch morning rays across the street. 

When Annie and her mother had moved to the house on Blake Street, it was hard not to notice the old woman’s house. Nothing grew in the garden, it was as if the soil was poisoned. 

Her mothers garden was bursting with life and color. 

The night she saw the old woman, pacing her porch, muttering to the old matted gray cat, Annie couldn’t ignore her fears anymore. 

So she sat and watched early one morning in the dark. She felt the cat around her ankles before she heard the chanting. The old woman. And her mother. Then, darkness.


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