First Full Moon
The windows are shut and the blinds drawn. A space heater warms my bedroom to a balmy eighty degrees. As I stand in the middle of the room, a cold draft blows past me, raising the hair on my arms and neck.
Someone is watching me.
Will it be my time soon? Will I be the next one taken?
“That creepy frown on your face is going to cause premature wrinkles,” Larkin says.
My cousin lies across my bed, her black combat boots dangling off the edge as she scrolls through her phone without pausing long enough to read anything. She chews gum and blows a bubble that pops, covering her mouth. Larkin doesn’t seem to mind that strands of her long, raven-black hair brush the gum she pries from her face.
“I’m fifteen and too young for wrinkles,” I reply, moving to the window and opening the blinds. From the third floor, I can see everything and everyone in front of the house. The driveway and yard are empty. Not a soul to be seen anywhere.
“You turn sixteen in like five hours.” Larkin’s only a little bitter I’m the oldest grandchild.
Even though I can’t see anyone, there’s someone watching me. I feel it.