Megan first saw her, the little girl, sitting in a wicker arm chair in a corner of her bedroom. Her dark clothing contrasting sharply against the lavender cushions of the chair. At first, she hadn't seen her. As the sun bathed the window, sending lightning bolts of rays across Megan's closed eyelids, she rolled lazily towards her alarm clock, which at that time, had begun to shout the voices of the morning DJs. In a one-eyed, one-handed motion, Megan shut off the alarm and had begun rolling back to her warm groove in the center of the bed when a small, dark shape appeared in her peripheral...
More..Kristal Stafford
Member since: February 2007
Articles Written: 10