He ran all the way home. If the sight of the attack hadn’t sucked the air out of his lungs, he might have been screaming. He ran all the way up the steps, two at a time - something he’d never been able to do with his short legs. His mom said something as he passed her at the kitchen table, coupon books spread out in front of her, but he said nothing in return, racing to his room. There, in the safety of his bed, he curled together with the blankets over his head. But that image was burning into his head, he hadn’t known people could scream that loud.
He didn’t sleep at all that night, staring as light from the mood cast crawling shadows across his bedroom floor. At school he kept expecting to hear something, to hear about the body and a rapid escaped dog, but there was nothing. And as he walked down the hall to the biology lab he stopped. Standing against the teacher’s desk, his bracelets and throat intact, was Kelburn. He had what looked like a research paper in his hands, but it was smudged with dirt and badly ripped.
He watched in silence, screaming inwardly, as Kelburn gave the teacher an apologetic smile. “As lame as this sounds, my dog ate my homework.
Violet HillThe window fogged, a result of ragged breathing expelling air on to the cold surface. Tristan pressed one hand flat against the pane of glass, staring out at the falling snow over the grounds. He noticed the footsteps first, deep but short drops in the snow that left darker places. Already they were fast being covered, but they couldn't have been there long. The gloved hand dropped back to his side, finger tips tingling from the short contact with the icy surface, even through the black fabric. Slightly glazed eyes slipped down, following the tracks in a dazed sort of way. He caught a glimpse of a dark figure before the door shut behind them.