The sun was an intruder, diving through the curtains with malice.
Rachel rolled out of bed toward it, changed course, and rolled the other way.
She would have allowed herself to roll all the way off, hit the floor, see what that felt like, but she heard a footstep just as her last balancing elbow tottered on the edge.
Way too early for Marty to be here helping her move, and he didn’t have a key.
C.P. would do some crazy shit like break in just to be funny, but it was too early for him too.
Her stuff was packed up in boxes. If there was a real home invader she could at least jam her boxes of books against the door and hang drop out the window.
It would be a helluva way to leave your childhood house– never a home, but still…
More footsteps.Light.Someone heavy sneaking?
Rachel didn’t pray, but cracked her right pinkie knuckle when she wished on whatever space dust or mythic gremlin looked out for her.
She cracked it, rolled back toward the obnoxious Darkside lightsaber of sun, grabbed Turtle and slid down on top of two boxes of clothes, barely beneath the height of the bed and not anywhere near the door. She’d just have to hang drop with Turtle.
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