The Vamp Tramp

As Zara reached for the phone nestled innocently by her computer, she felt a pang of longing for her sister, Maria. Maria knew not to bother Zara when she was on a writing binge, and Zara was grateful for that. So all the more reason Maria was the person Zara needed right now.

She punched in the numbers on her phone, and waited impatiently for the ringer to stop ringing.

Finally, after about three rings, she heard someone pick up the phone and said a yawned, “hey.”

Zara instinctly glanced at the clock to her left. It was eight o’clock in the morning. Kind of early for her sister. Whoops.

“Hey Maria. Can you come over?” Zara asked, plucking at some fake dust on her shirt.

Maria laughed. “Wow, you really are deranged.”

Zara frowned. “Huh?”

Still laughing, Maria replied. “You’re a writer, Zare. And all you ever do is write. You even forget simple things, like the fact that I live in the same house as you.”

Zara gave a small smile, but it quickly faltered when she realized Maria was right. She had been writing for so long. Being an author has practically taken over her life.

“I’m coming downstairs.” She hardly heard Maria say, and then the phone went dead. Zara put it back on its charger, and heaved a heavy sigh.

She heard footsteps trampling down the stairs. She tried to put on a smile for her sister when she entered the room, but found that she couldn’t keep it up.

Maria had wrapped herself in her soft scooby-doo blanket. She looked at Zara. “Alright, sis. Tell me what’s going on.”

When Zara opened her mouth, she felt it was hard to say the words. That she couldn’t write anymore. She was the famous Hanna Merrill, the author that captured an audience of every state in America.

Zara was even more famous than J.K. Rowling nowadays. And she knew, that with her talent of writing, she would get mobbed by fans everywhere. So she used a penn name for her books. And as for the author picture, let’s just say she had become very good friends with photoshop.

Of course, her family, friends, and editors/publisher knew her actual name and what she actually looked like. And it was a great relief to Zara that no one came on her doorstep asking for an autograph. She just didn’t want people always trying to bud into her life.

“Zara? Hell-o?” Maria waved a hand in front of Zara’s face. Zara found she was staring off into space, in deep thought.

“Sorry. I was just... what I am about to tell you is really hard for me to say.”

Maria nodded sympathetically. “I’m here for you, sis. What’s up?”

“Well... I’ve got writer’s block.” She hung her head down, as if ashamed of such a simple fact.

She didn’t, however, expect her sister’s reaction.

Maria smiled, and wrapped her blanket around Zara’s shoulders. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for like, two, three years, to hear you say those words.”

Zara’s head snapped up. She was confused. What the hell?

Zara again heard her sister’s familiar, musical-like laugh. “What’s so funny?” Zara asked.

“The fact that you have to ask that is sad. Don’t you remember, about three years ago? When you published the first book in the Vamp Tramp series?” Maria smiled, shaking her head. “I sure haven’t. Don’t you remember our deal?”