Chapter 10: Clown On The Prowl

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~Well that's alright, lets give this another try.~In this land of makebelieve, dead and dry.~Lean you head on me, one last time

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I opened the bathroom door, and ran to pull Francine from the door.

She turned to me in shock “Don’t open that door!” I yelled at her.

With a hand she moved her blond hair out of her face. “What? Why? It might be our other guest’s sweet heart. A few of Roberts’s nephews and nieces are coming over!”

She went to move past me, and I blocked her way. I need to make something up. “I—I heard there’s a burglar in this neighborhood who um, um he um…”

Crap!

Francine shook her head, and gently pushed me out of the way. “I assure you it’s just our family,” she said with a laugh, and a look that read ‘crazy-bitch.’

I frowned, and started backing away to the kitchen. I looked behind me at my Parents and then quickly ran past the front door, into their living room. I sat down on the couch, and pulled the blankets over me. Francine is talking to the people at the door. A fat tall guy in a white and blue polo shirt walked in, followed by a young man with a navy t-shirt, and dark jeans, finally a skinny woman with a orange dress came in, holding a baby.

A few kids ran in, one a little girl, the other a little boy. The girl had a  pink princess outfit on, and the boy looked like a ninja. I watched the rest of the people come in, and I’m starting to think this is a parade, and not a party.

I swallowed, not seeing anyone with black hair and green eyes. She shut the door, and right on cue the doorbell rang again. Francine opened the door, and started laughing, with her hand on the ridge of it.

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” I heard her say loudly.

She continued to talk with someone, using hand gestures and getting really into the story. I stared at her, seeing her mood completely change to almost a flirty mood. She opened the door wider, and a tall man came in. He shook her hand, making sure her right one was between both of his. Francine took a step back, and motioned for him to go in the kitchen.

Two men came in, dressed in dark sweaters, with collars at the neck. Both are both really tall, and strong built from what I can see. They have a mess of blond hair. The one closest to me turned in my direction, and I recognized him instantly, as ‘John’ from the party.

I quickly looked away, blushing from his gaze. The other man who didn’t even look in my direction whispered something to Francine. She nodded her head, and they walked to the kitchen. The man with the gray eyes walked to me, his hands in his dark jeans.

“You again,” I said, with a hint of flintiness.

He flashed a bright smile, and sat down on the opposite end of the couch. “You shouldn’t be here Faith.”

“How do you know my name?” I asked, sitting up, “And more importantly how do you know I would be here?”

He laughed and rubbed his chin, as if there was stubble there. There aren’t any hairs on his chin though, so I’m taking it as an act of thought. “I’ve been watching you, looking over you in a way. You’ve managed to get yourself in a whole heap of trouble,” he stared at the tan carpet as he spoke, and lifted his gaze up to mine.

I frowned, but didn’t say anything.

“Tell me Faith, do you consider yourself intelligent?” he continued when I didn’t respond.

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