Camp Unspeakable: POISONING OF THE OLYMPIC SHRINES

Chapter 2

A few hours later, I'm watching the news about the whole "an eight-year-old boy, a teacher in her thirties, and a ten-year-old girl passed out on school grounds!" thing. I was in my PJs and alone because the school day had to end early. I also had to walk home since my mom wasn't answering any of my calls. ( Yes, I do have a phone because my mom is so irresponsible) Probably since she was having fun with her friends and forgot to call me back.

"The ten-year-old girl, known as Farrah Miller, was also found with hives covering her whole arms without any reason. We are still awaiting info about the trio, so stay tuned—"

I sighed and turned off the TV, staring out the window. It was storming out there with lightning and rain. I grabbed my headphones and a notebook and a pencil. I started writing some silly stories about drama and school life while drowning reality with music. My favorite song is Girl On Fire, mostly because I'm a sucker for R&B songs. Then I heard the doorbell ring. That sent chills down my spine, and the doorbell rang again with some harsh knocking too. I scrambled off the couch and to my feet. I slowly walked to the kitchen drawers while staring at the door.

I opened the second drawer and grabbed a kitchen knife. Come on, don't blame me! I mean, who even goes knocking on doors in this kind of weather?! I walked closer to the door and almost dropped the knife on my foot since I was so nervous. I really do not want to slice off my big toe.

"Hello? Who is this at the door?" I whispered and gripped the knife for dear life. Oh my gosh, should I be doing this? Nope, I shouldn't and here I am, doing it. Oh good lord.

"Amaraaa! C'mon, let's play a game!" a voice giggled. It sounded like my mom's voice but mellowed.

"Amara? Come outside so we can talk, or inside. It's pouring rain out here. Amara, are you still there?" a deeper voice asked, I gasped. I took a deep breath and quickly opened the door, raising my kitchen knife.

"Who are you and why is my mom with you?!" I snapped and pointed the knife at a man with brown hair and tanned skin.

" Whoa, whoa! No need to pull that out so fast! Can we talk inside?"

"Meet Logan, so nice, right?" my mom said while laughing. I lowered the knife but glared at Logan.

"Okay, you may enter?" I said and led them inside the living room. I threw down the knife on the table and pushed up my glasses.

"So, you met my mom at a party, I guess?" I asked and scratched my head. This feels a bit weird and my mom is probably still drunk.

"No, actually, I'm her co-worker and we went to the party but—"

"My mom got too drunk and you took pity on her," I sighed as my mom fainted on the couch. Not again with this passing-out thing!

"Don't worry, that happened at the party. She got way too drunk and I decided to give her a lift since she could have been pulled over for DWI. Sorry, I couldn't drive her home faster, we had to make a few stops for her to vomit," Logan said sheepishly, I stared at my mom. Unfortunately, this is not the first time this happened. My mom really is irresponsible, wow.

"Well, thanks for driving her home, bye now," I said and shooed him away to the door.

"Uhm, okay? Bye for now," Logan said and walked to the front door. I waved goodbye. Well, this is getting awkward.

"I'll see your mom at work later, you know, like tomorrow," he prompted and I nodded awkwardly. Can this guy leave yet—or do I have to ask?

"Uh, okay? Bye, Logan," I said, and after five minutes of silence, he finally left. Thank god.