A book of poems that probably aren't that great, but I write them anyway because I have nothing better to do.
Warning! Some of my poems are about topics such as depression, self harm, rape, and anxiety. They may also contain course language. Please...
"She scared my cousin, Emma, half to death." And me, too.
"I wonder who that child is," Ms. Trent mused. "Do you know her last name?"
"She won't tell me. I don't even know where she lives. That's why I followed her today." I frowned. "I want to find her house so Dulcie can talk to her mother. Sissy's a bad influence on Emma. She ought to stay away from us."
A clock struck eleven times like a miniature Big Ben, startling us both. I jumped up, stricken with guilt. I'd walked off two hours ago and left Emma sleeping. Dulcie was probably furious. "Are my clothes dry? I have to go home."
Ms. Trent disappeared into the laundry room and came back with my jeans and T-shirt and underwear, still warm from the dryer.
"It's raining too hard to walk all the way back to Gull Cottage," she said as she handed them to me. "Why don't you call Dulcie?" I'd love to see her. I'd drive you myself, but my poor old Volvo's in the shop having yet another overhaul."
As soon as I was dressed, I dialed Dulcie's number. Just as I'd feared, she was cross at me for leaving without a word to anyone. But she was also relieved I was safe.
"I'll come right away. Where are you?"
"At Ms. Trent's. It's a yellow house on Sycamore Road. She has flowers everywhere, more even than Mom has. You can't miss it." "What on earth are you doing there?"
"I tried to follow Sissy home, but I couldn't keep up with her. I thought she must live in Ms. Trent's house, so I knocked on the door and she invited me in, but she doesn't know Sissy."
"Sissy, Sissy, Sissy." Dulcie sighed into the phone. "I wish you'd never net the girl."
Page 101, Deep And Dark And Dangerous by Mary Downing Hahn
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Poem:
"She isn't the monster You fear she is." He can't be persuaded
