The dark changed familiar furniture to mysterious shapes. I held onto the wooden staircase and listened. Silence met my ears. I climbed, glad for the carpet that muffled my steps. My hand slid along the slick banister until it met with something sticky. Probably the remains of my idiot brother's grape popsicle. I held my palm to my nose and sniffed. Ugh… definitely not grape! Glad I hadn't tried to lick it. The smell alone made bile form in my throat. I reached the landing and shoved my hand under the angel night light. Red… blood.
"Keep reading and dreaming"